Page 22 of The Snowflake Effect

“Or for ski instructing, since you don’t know the chair-lift rules. Or proper ski etiquette.”

“Are you sure you’re an interior designer? I know politicians less stubbornly opinionated than you.”

A heartbeat ago, I wanted to strip him naked and ride him like a rodeo queen. Now I’m wondering if I’d be blamed if I raised the safety bar and he “slipped” off the chair. “There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion.”

“Unless it’s obstinate.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t even glance uphill when you merged onto my run and won’t admit it. You launch my pole over the chair and blame me, and it takes blackmail for you to admit you got off last night. So, yeah, the word obstinate comes to mind. And dogged.” He leans close, his voice just a whisper. “And passionate. I’m all good with your fiery side, Shay. And I appreciated your honest emotion last night, too.”

Embarrassment floods me again. Over those tears and how uncontrolled I feel around Kolton. “Can we just forget this happened?”

“Again?” He grips the safety bar and shakes his head. “Pretty sure the answer to that is hell no.”

Unfortunately, he’s not wrong. Nothing about him or us is forgettable, but we could at least pretend like nothing happened. I give him my best blank stare. “Move.”

He gawks at me. “What?”

“Move,” I repeat. “Unless you want to be stuck together for the trip down. We need to raise the bar.”

He looks forward and cocks his head, as though he didn’t realize how close we were to the top.

We slip our skis from the footrests, hoist up the bar, and guilt rockets through me. The sweet way he smiled at me when talking about his granddad festers. The confessions he whispered while getting me off linger, too. And he really was kind when I cried after we hooked up last night. Another time in our lives, when I wasn’t so raw and defensive, we’d maybe get along. Maybe even go on a date.

Kolton’s teasing doesn’t warrant my biting replies. I didn’t realize how much residual anger I had after everything with Richard.

Near the top, I say, “I’m sorry if I’ve been…difficult. There’s too much emotional drama to unpack and explain why, but we have to tolerate each other at dinner tonight. I promise to be nicer, but there will be no sex of any kind. Ever again. I’m not in the right mental place, and we don’t exactly bring out the best in each other.” Then I add, “I’m skiing down on my own.”

Avoiding eye contact, I push off the lift and ski as quickly as I can—without my poles—leaving him behind. I’ll get through tonight and the next few days but hooking up with Kolton is over, once and for all.

SEVEN HOURS LATER

“Lift up from the snow, Shay…a bit higher and…fuck, yes. Like that. Damn, you feel good.”

THE NEXT MORNING

“Leg, leg, leg. Move left. Jesus, Kolton. Just…yeah. Harder.”

IN THE TREES

“I’m so deep inside you, Shay. So fucking deep.”

BATHROOM, ROUND TWO

“Quiet. They’ll hear us. No, no…don’t stop…”

SOMEWHERE IN ASPEN

“Faster.”

“Deeper.”

“Shay.”

“Kolton!”

CHAPTER 10