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“Okay,” she eventually says.
“Promise me,” I say, my voice low.
She swallows, her gaze locked with mine. “Okay, Ethan. I promise.”
I nod once in acknowledgement, the vice loosening a little.
We take the elevator down to the garage in silence, and as we step out and walk toward my car, I wait for the usual reaction to my black, top of the range Range Rover Sport. But nothing comes. Instead, Zoey nods a thanks as I open the door for her before she climbs into the passenger seat.
I move around to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat and the second I shut the car door, the small space is filled with her and me and this weird, crackling electricity, just like it was back in the elevator.
“So verdict on skiing?” she eventually asks as I reverse out of my spot and drive out of the garage.
Chuckling, I glance over before turning back to the road as I make my way out of the resort and up toward my place on the mountain. “Well, I clearly have a long way to go, but yeah, I liked it.”
She shuffles in her seat so she’s facing me. “You’re naturally athletic, so that helps, but I think a few more lessons and you’ll soon get the hang of it.”
“You offering to give me those lessons?” I ask, immediately wanting to face punch myself for how that sounds. “I mean I—”
Zoey laughs, her eyes shining as she watches me. “Yeah of course. It was fun.”
“It was,” I say, smiling, as I make a turn onto my road. “And thank you.”
When I pull up to my house, I again wait for the comments about how amazing it looks or how big it is, but once again, nothing comes. And it’s not until I’m parking the car in the garage and hitting the button to close the door, that Zoey finally speaks.
“Oh shit, I should’ve grabbed us a bottle of wine or something.”
Chuckling, I open the door to the mudroom, silencing the alarm before saying, “All good, Zoey, I think I’ve got a bottle or two handy.”
She follows me in, giving me a soft elbow to the side that sends a shiver up my spine as she replies, “Uh huh.”
The mudroom opens to the large gourmet kitchen that’s filled with stainless steel appliances that I rarely use, even though I love to cook. I drop my things on the counter, before taking Zoey’s coat and bag and hanging them up.
“So, wine. Red or white?”
Zoey glances at the large and well stocked wine fridge that sits beside the double-door regular fridge before giving me a smirk. “Red?”
I grab us a bottle and pour two glasses before grabbing my iPad. “And how’s Thai food sound?”
“Perfect,” she replies, holding up her glass as she smiles at me. “To the owner of the ski lodge finally learning to ski.”
I clink my glass against hers before adding a quiet, “Cheeky.”
She laughs and for a second I picture this happening every night.
Me and her. Here together. Sharing a bottle of wine. Having dinner. All of it.
Jesus christ, I am so fucked.
We’re on the patio outside, the fire going and the remains of our dinner left on the dining table inside. Zoey had asked about my view as we ate and when I turned on the outdoor lighting and she saw the lounge area and fire pit, I couldn’t resist starting it up when she’d asked if we could come out here. It’s too cold to stay out here long, but saying yes to her request was just so easy. Everything about tonight has felt easy and right, despite that inner voice in my brain reminding me that I should not be doing this.
“So, are you and your brother close?” Zoey asks as she takes a seat and holds her hands out to the fire.
I nod, still standing. “Yeah, we are, especially after our parents passed.”
“How old were you?” she asks, glancing up, a concerned look on her face.
“Nineteen,” I reply, walking around the firepit and past where she sits. “Hold on a sec,” I say, my hand resting on her shoulder for a moment, the action almost a reflex.
