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“How much are you regretting coming?” Jake asks Lennon as we pull on our winter coats.
She laughs. “It hasn’t been that bad.”
“Massiveregrets then,” Jake surmises. “Mom and Pop Winters are arctic cold.”
“They’re just a little chilly,” Lennon replies, magnanimously.
“You’re too good for Winters, Lennon,” Colt states.
I flip him off as I pull on my snow boots. “I’m trying to keep her from figuring that out, Adams.”
“Better lock it down,” Jake advises. “Just a matter of time. Surprised it hasn’t happened already. They’ll be married with two point five kids before you get your first girlfriend.” He grins at Colt.
“How the hell do you end up with half a kid?” Colt asks, looking confused.
“I have no idea, actually. I’ve just heard people say that. It’s a saying, right?” Jake says. “I didn’t just make that up?”
I’m laughing too hard to answer him as we leave the warm house. The loss of heat makes it feel especially freezing out. Darkness surrounds us. The only hint of light is the moonlight glittering on the frozen surface of the snow.
Jake parked his SUV right outside the front door, so it’s not a long trip to the car. Colt climbs into the passenger side while Lennon and I pile into the back.
It’s a short drive to the slope. The overlook has a drop that’s steep enough to spark adrenaline but not suicidal.
Jake brought five different sled options in his trunk. I grab the largest and Lennon’s hand.
Colt and Jake take off immediately, their shouts the only indication there’s anyone else out here in the wilderness with us. For the first time since the uncomfortable stretch of time known as dinner, Lennon and I are alone.
Instead of comment on how unpleasant it was, I decide to adopt Lennon’s attitude from earlier and just enjoy the moment. “Want to sled?” I ask her.
Her lips quirk, the movement barely noticeable in the dim light. “Yeah. Sure.”
I settle into the back of the plastic sled. Lennon climbs in between my legs, the warmth of her body counteracting the chilly air. The sky is spread out like an inky blanket above us, peppered with pricks of light and the beam of the moon that illuminates the barest outline of craggy mountains around us.
This is one of those rare perfect moments.
It’s tangible, the knowledge I’ll look back and remember exactly how I felt during this precise point in time.
“I’m glad we came,” Lennon tells me.
“Yeah, me too,” I reply.
Then I shove off, sending us into motion to slide down the side of the snowy mountain.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
LENNON
Ihave no idea how I got myself into this.
Actually, that’s a lie.
I’m desperate for some small sign of approval from a woman who’s alternated between acting as though I don’t exist and demonstrating her mastery of the back-handed compliment. I know Caleb’s relationship with his parents is strained for reasons unrelated to me. I also know if he had to choose between me and them, he would pick me. I don’t want him to have to, though.
And that’s why I’m stuck in a gondola, next to a woman I’m sure strongly dislikes me, climbing up the side of a mountain. The cliff I’m trying to talk myself off of in my head is only slightly steeper.
I assumed Abigail Winters owns a chalet in Aspen for an excuse to wear faux fur and host fondue parties. Her invitation to ski this morning was a totally unexpected one. Caleb tried to insist on coming with us, but his mother said it would be a nice opportunity to get to know me. I couldn’t argue with that, and neither could Caleb.
So, here we are.
