Page 42 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
I shoot him my most sarcastic smile.
“Okay, then. Don’t hurt yourself.”
He pushes off, sliding down the slope at breakneck speed, already passing Katie, who’s stopped to wait for me.
Jasper locks eyes with me for a brief second, but neither of us say anything. Then he pulls on his goggles and follows after his friend. I stare as he dips and weaves across the powder. His butt looks stupidly good in his ski suit.
But I can’t think about that now. I shake the dirty thoughts from my head and prepare to push off. I’m not going to be the one Elite Pack wolf who can’t make it down the slope, and if Clayton thinks he can be so smug, he’s got another thing coming. As the breeze picks up I take off.
At first, it’s crazy awkward and I worry I’m going to topple over at any second. But then I find my rhythm and actually it’s not so bad. I pick up speed and even manage to avoid a collision with a poorly placed tree.
Up ahead I spot Clayton and Jasper having pulled to a stop near a red flag, so I head in their direction. I’ve reached a sort of plateau with trees and a picnic bench; off to the right there are a few differently colored flags.
“Max!” Katie’s voice calls to me across the slopes. Luckily, the terrain has flattened out enough that I can stop without too much trouble. Katie skids her way over. “Wait up!”
Katie’s calls catch Jasper’s and Clayton’s attention.
“That’s the advanced trail,” she says. “The beginner’s slope is over here.”
Glancing back in their direction, I notice Clayton smirking and shaking his head.
“I’m fine,” I say, turning toward the red flag. “I want to try it.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“It’s just snow; how much can it hurt?”
“A lot.”
Katie’s last words are lost on the breeze as I make my way over to the start of a new slope. It’s rockier than the last, the path has way more curves and turns, and oh yeah, it’s wildly steep—basically like skiing down a sheer cliff face.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Clayton says. “I didn’t bring anything to wear to a funeral.”
His snide remark is enough to get my engine burning, so I dig my poles into the snow and take off.
At first it’s not so bad: I can handle the turns and the bumps, and it’s not so fast, except that I’m speeding up. My skis dig into the powder and the farther down I go, the faster I travel.
“Heads up!” Clayton calls from behind me. He and Jasper are on my tail and gaining speed.
I grit my teeth. There is no way I cannot stay upright right now.
“Make room,” Clayton yells, spraying me with snow as he races past.
I shake the powder from my goggles as Jasper passes too. I can be thankful he doesn’t spray me as well, although I’d almost prefer that to his cold shoulder—he barely glances in my direction before overtaking me.
I know this is dumb—they’ve probably been skiing since they could walk, and I am a literal baby at this—but I’m determined not to let them win. Maybe this’ll be like the weird superspeed I get around Jasper, maybe I’ll also be super good at winter sports.
I bend my knees, lower my head, and push harder.
Icy wind slices at my cheeks as I descend at an ungodly speed. Every little bump under my skis feels like a boulder, and the muscles in my legs are straining to keep the skis from sliding apart and tearing me in half. But somehow I’m making up ground.
I bend into the turns, lean into the corners as the mountainside disappears behind me. Below, the trees begin to thicken, and I think for sure Jasper and Clayton are going to turn off, avoid the obstacles, but instead they disappear into the forest. The terrain becomes rockier and boulders jut out from the snow—jagged protrusions, like spikes on a hedgehog. I dodge and weave to avoid them and the trees which are closing in on all sides. This must be what Han Solo feels like flying through an asteroid field.
Behind me is a whizzing sound growing louder as it approaches, and I turn slightly to find Olivia right on my tail. She’s bent over for aerodynamic efficiency; her knees are angles and her poles are held tightly at her sides. Her eyes are hidden behind dark goggles, but for some reason I feel like she’s glaring at me. And just when I’ve been staring too long, she lifts her head and I spin in time to realize I’m about to collide with a very frozen-looking pine tree. In a winter sports panic I try to swerve, but instead I flop onto my side and skid to a painful stop.
I groan and lie in the snow. I should be grateful nothing is broken, at least I don’t think anything is. With a grunt I yank my head out of the powder and am greeted by the distinct sound of Clayton laughing—and yep, the asshat is standing a little ways down the hill, literally clutching his stomach. Jasper is with him, his expression unreadable.
Olivia skids to an effortless stop nearby, throwing her head back and lifting her goggles off her face. She appraises me like I’m roadkill, and once she’s ascertained that I’m still alive, she pulls her goggles back on and glides away.
