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“I really piss you off that much, snowboard guy?” I scoff, my heart pounding in my chest as I stand.
“Yes,” he replies flatly, following me with his eyes as I head to the fridge and grab two cans of La Croix and throw him one that he catches midair.
“Damn, babe, who drinks this?” he asks, snorting out a laugh and staring at the can.
I roll my eyes and close the fridge with my foot. “You apparently, asshole.”
“La Croix? Really, Acie? Next thing you know, you’re gonna be drinking Whiteclaw like a real asshole. Don’t those guys have any beer?” he grins, waggling his eyebrows at me.
I grab the can out of his hand. Gritting my teeth, I walk back to the fridge, and give him an 805 beer instead of the Pink La Croix. When I hand him the beer, I stay stationary while he sits; it’s the safer option. He sprawls those thighs wide, his fuckable body taking all this space on the couch. Damn it!
“Why are you here, Jesse, other than to stalk me and say I piss you off all in the same sentence?” I ask, my strong voice cracking at the edges.
He gulps the drink down. “I’m a man of contradictions. Now join me on the couch,” he coos, motioning to the seat next to him.
“You know I can’t get over the fact you’re really pushy,” I say, my voice deadly, hoping it matches the look in my eyes.
With a low wolf whistle, he looks me over. “I know, babe, I know. I’m also an asshole with needs,” he drawls, motioning to the place on the couch next to him again.
I sit and watch him as he brushes his thumb over the brim of the beer can. He kicks his feet up on the table, not saying anything for a couple of seconds. “Okay, here it goes. I’m gone 10 months out of the year. I want to chase pow, I can’t commit. I need to ride the wave a little bit more. And I don’t know what I’m gonna do after it all ends, because my time at the top of the mountain will end, babe,” he says, his voice serious.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jesse. My father thought so too and look at him now. He’s still up on the mountain every Saturday,” I tell him, gently cupping his chin. He leans into my touch and sighs when I let him go.
“What are you going to do?” he asks, sounding truly interested. “Are you staying here?”
I shrug. “Sell more vintage clothes, get my own line off the ground. Maybe get involved in the family business,” I mutter, staring at the fire, the lights casting a soft glow on his face. “It’s time I stopped running.”
“That all sounds rad, babe, but where do you want to end up?” he asks, scratching his stubble.
“What do you mean?” I don’t know what he’s getting at.
“What if I asked you to stay here? And wait for me?” he asks, not a hint of doubt in his voice.
“You’re serious?” I ask, my cheeks flush in the process. “Who are you trying to convince here, Jesse, me or yourself?” I tease, pushing my finger in his chest.
He grabs my finger. “Fuck if I know. Maybe myself,” he says, covering my hand with his, brushing his calloused thumb over my skin.
“Jesse, we barely know each other, we—” I don’t know how to finish my sentence.
“Fuck that, Ace.” His voice is hard, and tension radiates from his body. “This is different. Don’t you feel it too?” he whispers, and his smile comes ever so slowly. Leaning forward, he lays a soft kiss on my neck. Moving up, he gently kisses my bottom lip, rubbing his stubble cheek over my cheekbone. He pulls back and watches me in silence.
I swallow hard. “Damn, snowboard guy, when you kiss me like that, I can’t think straight,” I mutter, placing my hand over my racing heart. He’s right because I feel the same way, but I shouldn’t give in to him. I know what kind of life he leads.
He stands and stares me down and crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want,” he asks.
“I don’t know what I want,” I whisper, listening to the music playing in the background.
Leaning on his knees in front of me, he grabs mine and pushes them apart as far as they can go. “Let’s have fun together.”
My thigh muscles tremble under his expert touch. “What do you want to do? Travel around the world chasing pow, and I’ll be waiting here as some housewife in the woods for you?” I ask, not understanding why I’m actually thinking about it, and liking the image that pops up in my head.
He stands and breathes out hard through his nose. “Pretty much. You can even move in with me when you get kicked out of this place.” He snickers, obviously joking, but his eyes are blazing with determination.
“Fuck that, Jesse, I don’t need you to swoop in and save me. I like your dick…” I grind out, shaking my head, not knowing what to say.
“But not enough to commit?” he asks, all hurt, pushing me back into the couch pillows with his big hand holding me in place. I try to wiggle free, but damn, the man is strong. He grabs the back of my neck, positioning himself between my legs. He runs his mouth over my earlobe, his lips brushing against my cheek, and I shiver from his touch.
“Jesse,” I groan, grabbing his shirt between my fingers.
