AllFreeNovel
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“I’m sorry, Jesse,” I whisper, laying my hand on his knee.
He shrugs, staring at my hand. “It happened. We got on with our lives. Dad works long hours as a pediatrician, and Gibb loves to board. Don’t know if he wants to keep doing it or go his own way, though,” he says, placing his palm over mine. He nudges me in the shoulder after a while. “And what about you?”
“About me?” I ask. This wasn’t the best idea. Of course he would flip the conversation back to me. Once people hear my last name is Kurton, they tend to only want to be friends because of my family and trust fund.
“Two-way street, babe,” he says.
“I used to try and visit my parents in Sturgis, where they lived for the better part of the year. The rest, I spend either on the road or house-sitting for my friends in Seattle. My brother still lives here, though, and my parents too,” I mumble under my breath, hoping he’s not going to press for more details.
“Sturgis, huh? Great motorcycle country,” he says.
I nod. “My parents love to ride. Whenever the rally is in town, I spend a week there, catching up with old friends. I used to live in Aspen, and a lot of my friends are still here—” I stop before I give too much away. He doesn’t say anything, but keeps looking at me.
“Why didn’t you come out here when you were younger?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not enough time, I think. My brothers went up on the mountain whenever they had the chance. My mom was still working as a model when she had Layne and Ronnie, and Dad was busy with his company.”
“So your mother is German?”
“Grew up in Berlin before she moved to New York when she was fourteen and started working professionally. My parents met when she was doing a photoshoot. The day she turned eighteen, my father married her. He’s ten years older, but he never really grew up,” I tell him, grinning when I think about my dad, a mix between biker outlaw and multi-million dollar mogul who doesn’t give a shit as long as he can ride his board every day. “Mom moved to Aspen from New York, and whenever he had time off, Dad would take us up on the mountain.”
“How old were you when you started snowboarding, and don’t act like you didn’t, babe.”
“From when I was three till—” I bite on my lip. Fuck, I shouldn’t be telling him this. “It wasn’t really my thing, but my brothers loved it.”
“When did you stop?”
“When I was sixteen.” I bite down hard. I’m not going to tell him about Ronnie. I never talk about my brother.
“Come on, that can’t be it,” he says, pushing my arm with his shoulder. “You’re a natural.
“Yeah, right,” I mumble, smiling a little bit.
“When you ignore all your yapping and don’t think too much, you glide.”
“I’m going to ignore your last remark,” I grumble.
“You do that, babe.” He chuckles, dipping his chin toward me. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to go on, a lopsided grin tugging on his lips. “Come on, I saw the look in your eyes when you were concentrating. You love the snow, just admit it.”
“I did it for a reason.”
He leans back on his elbows in the snow. “Oh yeah, because of what’s his face,” he growls out.
I ignore the way his deep voice rumbles right through me.
Staring out over the mountains, he lets out a sigh. “ So your parents are rock fans?”
“Why do you say that?” I ask. Nobody has ever guessed where our names come from before, not even Shane.
“Layne… isn’t that the name of the singer from Alice in Chains? And Ronnie, let me guess, Ronnie van Zandt?” he asks.
I smile, looking at the board. “You are the first one to pick up on that.”
“What’s your actual name, Ace?” he asks, giving me a long look.
“Fat chance, buddy,” I say, scrunching up my nose.
He chuckles, leaning back on his elbows. “Did you go to school here in Aspen?”
