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Traitor.But maybe Eric was getting used to this whole situation because he barely even cringed anymore. “It was part of the appeal.”
“Boss would love to hear that,” Martin said. “Always maintained that his investment in the scenery was part of what kept the lights on.”
“You’re in touch?” Eric asked, not sure why it surprised him.
“He sends us Christmas cards,” Adrian said. “And birthday messages.”
How … normal.
“Do you guys have reunions?” Kojo sounded genuinely curious. “Like a ten-year alumni get-together?”
Adrian’s laugh touched his eyes, a bright green in the reflected light of the sun. “They keep inviting us back as special guests, but we’ve been too busy. And, you know—it’s kind of a different life phase now. No regrets, though.”
“Speak for yourself,” Martin said. “That haircut circa Hawaii era, the one that made me look like a twelve-year old? So many regrets, man.”
Eric suspected the conversation might have meandered for a while longer if it hadn’t been for Adrian sliding his sunglasses back on with a sudden air of decisiveness. “All right, enough chit chat. Eric, let’s leave these two losers to their beers and go so we don’t run out of time?”
“Sure, yeah.” Eric adjusted his ski poles, and Adrian grinned at him.
“First one at the bottom gets to pick the next run.” With that, Adrian set off, giving Eric no time to react.
“Hey!” Eric called after him. “Not fair!”
Adrian raised one pole in a cheerful salute and kept going. Oh, the bloodycheekof him.
“See you later,” Eric told Kojo and Martin. He didn’t wait for a response before he kicked off to give chase.
Eric was competitive.
It wasn’t what Adrian had expected from a guy so mild-mannered, who blushed so easily. He was also much better than Adrian had predicted based on Eric’s self-assessment as merely ‘all right’. Oh, he still didn’t stand a chance against Adrian—but it was hardly fair given Adrian had grown up here while the UK wasn’t exactly known as a skiing El Dorado.
They arrived at the valley station within seconds of each other, and Adrian found himself grinning as he watched Eric slide to a stop next to him. It had been a while since he’d felt even remotely tested—Martin didn’t have a competitive bone in his body, and Adrian’s parents didn’t either. Matteo, Martin’s boyfriend, didn’t shy away from a challenge, but he came from Italy and had started skiing only three years ago. Excellent runner, though.
“You held back!” Eric accused Adrian as soon as he caught his breath.
“Just a bit.” Adrian tilted his head, briefly glancing at the procession of cable cars that sailed skywards, the queue of skiers and snowboarders moving at a steady pace. “Figured it’s not really the place for a race here, too many people on the slopes. We could go early one of these mornings—pick a weekday when there’s almost no one around.”
“That would be fun.” Eric sounded surprised but pleased at the suggestion.
They stepped out of their skis and joined the people inching their way towards the cable cars. “You up for a black run next?” Adrian asked, and Eric nodded.
“Yeah, sure. My muscle memory is slowly coming back, so as long as you take it easy on me…”
Adrian tossed him a grin. “Now where’d be the fun in that?”
“Um.” And there it was again—a brief spark of awkwardness.
Right.
So, as Eric’s boss, Adrian should probably suspend all flirting until further notice. That would take conscious effort.
“You seem to be getting better by the minute,” he said, tone deliberately light. “Where did you learn how to ski like that?”
“I spent some time in the French Alps last winter.”
“Neat. Whereabouts?”
“Chamonix. I worked with an artist who had a chalet there, so it was skiing by day and songwriting by night.” Eric didn’t sound like he was bragging, just stating a casual fact. Hmm. Maybe Adrian needed to reassess his initial understanding of how well Eric’s career was going—Chamonix was bloody expensive, and if Eric worked with artists who could afford a chalet there, and he got invited to stay with them…
