“It ends on Valentine’s Day,” I groan at the thought. “How perfect is that?” I lift my superbly creamy latte—thick and sweet with a perfect tulip sketched into the foam upon delivery—up toward Sophie and Ember as we huddle together in the back of Coffeeology. We’ve managed to get a window seat where we can watch as the snow is softly falling across Leland University, giving the entire campus a fairy-tale appeal. Somehow, I survived Wednesday night’s debacle and still manage to keep breathing. And here we are on Saturday, with my heart still beating and my head still firmly attached. “I haven’t seen nor heard a peep from Lane since that magnificent kiss-off I gifted him.”

Sophie grunts, and my stomach tenses into a knot because I know her well enough by now to decode that snorting sound for what it really is: a mild level of aggression.

“First of all, the V-Day big reveal is more than purposeful,” Sophie is quick to inform, and is that a smidge of sarcasm I detect? Sophie is the queen of snarky comebacks. That’s probably why I love her so much. “The program is designed to make you fall in love. Trust me, they are scientists at heart, and they had a ninety-nine percent success rate in their last go-round.”

Em nods while wagging a finger my way. “The only reason Paulette and Nekimi didn’t make it is because he was a winter grad and his semester abroad was over. Rumor has it, she’s already signed up for an internship in Spain next summer.” She and Sophie exchange an awkward fist bump.

“Nevertheless, word on campus is that I emerged the victor. I know this because I read the recap in The Cougar Report. According to public opinion, I’m affable, and Lane is a cad.”

Ember gags. “Who writes that crap? Is my grandmother on campus? I don’t think the word cad has been used in fifty years.”

“Never mind that word.” Sophie glowers at me. “Let’s discuss another word—say the word cheater? Or how about another word—liar.”

I suck in a quick breath and bat her down with my hand. “I told you that you weren’t to breathe a word of that in public,” I grit through clenched teeth.

“Ah.” Em gives Sophie a knowing look. “We’ll just refer to it as the truth.”

The truth as in I didn’t really cheat on Lane Cooper—ever. “The only reason I made that entire grand finale up on the spot was because he confessed to sleeping with three damn women,” I hiss lower than a whisper. “THREE! Whores, every one of them.” I take a sip of my coffee, and the heat pricks my tongue.

Sophie winces. “It was a bit awkward to witness.”

Ember gives a husky laugh. “The entire spring semester is starting to feel awkward.”

“Ha!” I balk at their meager attempt at discomfort. “You think that’s awkward. Try fielding phone calls from both your mother and your brother the day after. Believe me, that was treachery in a nutshell. And it will be treachery all over again once my big brother walks in. He asked where I was, and I confessed my locale. Be warned and be on guard. I’m pretty sure he’s making his way to campus in hopes of running Lane over with his car. A total irony if you knew our history.”

My phone rings, and I flip it over to reveal an all too familiar face that sends a mild shock through my system. “Dear God, my dad wants to FaceTime. I can’t talk to my dad about what happened Wednesday night. He’ll know I’m not a virgin. And to think I thought I actually might have gotten away with it.”

“And you would have, too,” Sophie smirks, “if it wasn’t for those meddling kids at the TSE.”

“Ha-ha. I’m not laughing.”

Ember pulls my wrist toward her and takes a better look at my dad. “Wow, would you look at that? The man is seriously hot.”

“Give me that.” I pull my wrist free and bury my father and his burning desire to lecture me on all things penile deep into my purse. No, thank you. Not today. Dear God, if I can help it, not any day.

Ember bites down on those juicy red lips of hers, a gloss massacre occurs hourly on those smackers. “You wouldn’t happen to need a stepmom, would you?”

I kick her under the table for even thinking of my father in a sexual light. Yes, he’s gorgeous in a mature, tan, fit, highly testosteronized way. I frown at the thought. My parents split apart about two years ago. In fact, they had their breakup about six months before Lane and I had ours.

“Please don’t talk about my father ever again.” I make a face at my coffee. “I guess it’s official. Not one person in my family has any luck in the romance department.”

Sophie lifts a brow. “What about your brother? Didn’t you say he had a long-time ditz by his side?”

“I did. And case in point, I was right to call her a ditz. Carrie Rhodes is a ditz personified, from her frizzy blonde hair right down to her pointy stilettos. There’s just something about her that has never sat well with me. I don’t know if it’s that plastered on smile, or the fact she’s always super snarky to Wendell.” I look to Ember and Soph. “It’s actually Wen. Nobody really calls him by his full name other than me when I’m pissed at him. He’s at Greer University just up the road. Anyway, Wen and Lane are best friends.”

“What?” Sophie and Ember bark out in unison. So unnerving.

“You know, buddies.” I try to shrug off the idea. “They grew up together, went to the movies, played basketball. Half the court skills Lane has he learned from my big bro.” A flashback of all those long nights in our driveway watching them play skips through my mind. How I miss those hazy, fun-filled days where we laughed for hours. Lane and I kept our relationship hidden from Wen for as long as we could, but once he saw how in love we were, and after a few fists were thrown, he got over it. “Anyway, Wen chose Lane in the breakup. He sided with him. He thought I was being irrational.”

Ember’s giant doe eyes triple in size. “Wow, was he aware that Lane cheated on you?”

I give a quick nod. “Wen knew everything.” Maybe too much. “Anyway, what’s going on with you guys?”

Sophie strums her electric blue nails over the table. “Rowen’s taking me to dinner and a movie later. I may or may not come home tonight.” She leans in and offers up a cheesy wink. “Don’t wait up, sweetheart.”

Ember smirks at her. “And to think, just a few months ago you were poking fun at his colossal package with the rest of us at the Underground. My, how a few sheets on the calendar and a social experiment or two can turn a world upside down.”

Sophie shoots her with her finger. “Right side up!” She looks to me. “You think your world will shift once this experiment is over?”

“Are you kidding?” I glance to the ceiling, exasperated at the thought. “My world is already upside down because of that ridiculous social experiment, and I’ve only had one encounter. As soon as I meet up with Dexter Houston again, I’m going to wrap my hands around his neck.”

“Rumor has it, he’s a hottie.” Ember giggles. “Hey, wouldn’t it be ironic if you didn’t get back together with Lane and you ended up with Dexter instead?”

“First, you think everyone is a hottie,” I scold her with the truth. “And second, I’m pretty sure that would ruin his reputation in the faux scientific community he’s trying to make strides in. Besides, we can’t dismantle the program just yet. I do believe you’re up in the spring. And yes, I can’t help but gloat a little over that one. Both Sophie and I have been burned for the sake of public entertainment, and soon it will be your turn, Ember, to have your feet to the flames. Oh, what a fitting name your mother gave you after all. Ha!”

“No way.” She takes a quick sip of her coffee as she gathers her purse to her shoulder. “None of that experimentation crap will mean a thing to me. I’m immune to the L word in general. Believe me, I love my family and friends, but that’s the extent of it. I’m not falling for any relationship hocus-pocus. I’m pretty sure I’ll be that one percent that refuses to be shot with Cupid’s arrow.” She straightens abruptly. “Hey, I’m a one percenter!”

Sophie leans in to her. “Aw! I always knew you’d make it, sweetheart.”

A shadow darkens the table. “Is this a private party? Or can anybody join?”

I look up to find a tall, dark, and handsome version of myself minus the fact his hair is actually the same crimson shade as my own.

“Wen!” I hop up to gift him a quick embrace and then remember the fact I just confessed losing my virginity to the world at large, and my face heats with the power of a thousand hellish suns.

He makes a face before pulling me in. “Man, you know how to rip the balls right off a dude.” He closes his eyes a moment, and I don’t know if he’s talking about himself or Lane, probably both.

“Wen, this is Sophie, my roommate, and Ember, our adopted roommate.” I do the proper introductions, and Wen is a perfect gentleman while shaking their hands.

“It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Ember’s eyes remain the size of hard-boiled eggs. “But I’ve got to run and try to pick up that ever elusive abnormal psych book. The girl at the bookstore let me know she’d hold a copy for me this morning.” She gives a friendly wave and takes off.

“I’d better go, too.” Sophie stands and collects her things. “My own brother is headed down to buy me a quick lunch. I guess it’s siblings’ day at Leland. Super nice to meet you!” She makes crazy eyes at me before taking off. I doubt she’s meeting up with Braden. The only reason Sophie didn’t want to stick around is because she knows how lethal big brothers can be. Braden almost killed Rowen last fall when he found out they were serious. But Wen’s not like that. I glower at him a moment for not being like that.

“What?” He pulls my coffee over and takes a sip. “Too sweet.”

“That’s because it’s not yours. Now, go ahead and say whatever it is you feel you need to say to me.”

“Vi.” He closes his eyes a moment too long, something he does that reminds me of our father. When caught in a fit of frustration, it would look as if my father were meditating. “Why did you do it? Why did you have to get up on stage and say those things? More importantly, why in the hell did you put yourself in that position to begin with?”

My mouth opens and closes like a marionette and not a sound comes out. “I got fifty percent off at the student store and I bought a scarf.” I drop my head in my hands a moment and groan. “Oh, Wen, I don’t know what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. I thought it would be fun.” I look up at him through my fingers before coming up for air. “I thought, I don’t know, that I’d meet Mr. Right. But I ended up with Mr. Wrong. And the worst part is I knew Lane was wrong for me one year ago. It’s like some haunted lesson the universe insists on teaching me again and again. How was I supposed to know they sifted through their ex-files and pulled out all the horrible breakups just to feature them in a series? I feel like a fool. Like my life has been hijacked and taken for a ride. And to top off this nightmare, there’s no way out of this. I’m stuck—cemented into my own personal hell for the next five weeks.” A tiny bit of relief pulses through me at that thought of already having one week under my belt. I clear my throat because I feel exactly one inch tall. “Did you talk to him?” I hold my breath because there is no room for breathing until my brother answers the question.

Wen stares long and hard at me. “No. He texted me after it was done and apologized, but I didn’t answer him.” He leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest as if he were pissed. “I didn’t need to hear those things, Vi. And in case you’re wondering, I didn’t see it live. Carrie recorded it for me. And live TV, Vi? Really? You’ve got to be nuts to continue with this. If you want to hash things out with Lane, why couldn’t you do it in private?”

“I didn’t know he signed on, and once they said he wanted to do it, I wasn’t going to back down. You know that’s not me. And FYI, the live event was a one-off. They said the rest of the show would go to edits first. It was more or less a publicity stunt.” And that in a nutshell sadly sums up my life at the moment. “My handler for the show, Seth, said Lane is showing up for the next date. It’s a sure thing. So, unfortunately, I have to be there.”

His lips twitch, and I hate the fact he’s holding back that obnoxious smile. “Okay, if that’s what you believe, then I want you to go. Just tell me this.” He leans in and hardens his gaze over mine as if he means business. “Who did you cheat on him with?”

My heart thumps as an entire Rolodex of prospective guys runs through my head, but I don’t dare tell my brother a thing.

“We both know you’re far more loyal to the enemy than you are me.” I lean in as far as the table will allow. “I’m not telling.”

Wen huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re not telling because there’s not a thread of truth to it.” His features harden. “Don’t worry, Vi. I know you’re pissed and, believe me, I’m pissed for you. I know he hurt you, and that’s exactly why I’m going to make it explicitly clear that he expects nothing to come from this social situation you’ve gotten yourself into. He had his chance, and he blew it. If you want to give him a little hell, go right ahead. I’ll be cheering from the sidelines. Stay in it if you want, but know this—you and Lane Cooper are never happening again.”

Wen and I stare at one another for far longer than should ever be considered normal before he offers me a quick hug and takes off.

Of all the things that have rattled me this week, the fact Wen has stripped his perennial blessing off any reconciliation that might have been brewing with Lane is the real blow. Not that I want Lane back. God, no. It just feels so final this way. Wen had been Switzerland for so long. It really does underscore the fact I just jumped into bed with the devil.

What in the living hell have I gotten myself into?

---

Seth sent a message letting me know that this week’s date would be taking place bright and early Friday morning. Leland doesn’t have classes on Fridays, so it totally makes sense. And this way, I’m assured of the fact I won’t suffer PTMD, posttraumatic mortification disorder, the next day in class. Basically, all of last week sucked because of it. And life at the dorm isn’t exactly peachy either. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the clusters of girls whispering amongst themselves as I pass by. According to Ember, I had them in the bag until I declared my faux indiscretion. Evidently, that tiny white lie cost me some serious street cred where my dorm sisters are concerned.

Seth offered me a ride to the secret locale, so I meet him in front of Coffeeology and we pick up a cup of steaming fresh brew before heading to his Honda. And in the spirit of full disclosure, he fills me in on the fact our entire conversation will be recorded and is eligible to be used against me in a court of social experimentation law.

We chitchat about his calling into the public execution of former couples, and he justifies his foray into the black arts of love by way of a paycheck. I also discover that Seth is seeing Petra, another sensory guide, who is coincidentally Lane’s sensory guide. It turns out, Seth and Petra make a dynamic duo, and they like to be the yin to the other’s yang as far as Dexter’s social nightmare is concerned. They’re both grad students and are working in something along the lines of mixed social martial arts for their thesis.

“Hey”—I sit up a little straighter as the scenery around us grows increasingly familiar—“that sign just read Welcome to Snow Valley. You’re taking me home, aren’t you?” A mild sense of alarm fills me.

“Yup. Home court advantage. Nothing like it.”

“Yes, technically, I’ll have the home court advantage, but so will Lane for that matter. You do realize he’s a Snow Valley kid himself?”

“Yup. We are well aware.” His eyes sparkle with devious intent, and I’m all out of polite conversation. The only thing I want to do is soak in every last nuance of the town that I will forever call home. Snow Valley is populated with just as many evergreens as it is people. It’s small and quaint and holds the requisite Main Street, where a majority of commerce is committed. I give an opened-mouth smile as we bypass the Cut ’n Curl, my mother’s shop, but I don’t dare fill Seth in on that tresses-based tidbit lest Dexter get wind of it and force both Lane and me to do something stupid, like get matching perms. The imagery alone has me squirming. Come to think of it, I’d pay good cash money to see Lane getting humiliated by way of color-coded curlers. But Seth drives on, and then I see it right up ahead, rising from the ground like a powdered sugar phoenix.

“Are we going skiing?” My heart soars at the prospect of donning a set of waxed sticks to my feet and gliding down that mountain. I can’t wait to show up Lane on the slopes. I’ll make him eat my paper white dust as I zigzag circles around him. “Neither Lane nor I are masters on the slope, but it’s an exercise we’ve enjoyed together several times before. When you grow up in Snow Valley, you practically own the slopes. Have I mentioned I’m competitive to a fault? I’m going to take pleasure in making Lane my bitch on that hill today.” Not entirely true. Lane really is a master on the slopes, but I can’t have me on record singing his praises. If I was taking myself down a notch, he was surely coming with me.

“Just a quick word of the ground rules. Should you and Lane bump into one another off camera, we ask that you refrain from any—chemical reactions that might be moved to occur. Save the hot stuff for when you’re miked up and camera ready.”

“Please. As if that will ever happen. The only thing happening is the fact I’m about to own Lane on the slopes.”

“Get ready to own him because that’s exactly where you’ll be spending the day.”

A giddy schoolgirl cry escapes me, and as soon as we park, Seth ushers me into hair and makeup and a tent filled with all the latest and greatest in ski wear. Score! I’ve died and gone to shredding heaven.

An intern helps me pick out a cute, bright red, tight-fitting, flattering in all the right places jacket and matching pants, along with a cool pair of mirrored blue goggles. I put on all the garb and can’t help but admire the fact I look like a firecracker of a snow bunny. I can’t wait until Lane sees me and has a bright red heart attack over the fact he lost me.

Sleep with three skanks will you. This should teach him a red-hot lesson.

After a quick safety briefing—as if I needed it—I collect my skis and poles and am escorted to the entry of Sugar Hill, our beloved tiny ski resort that feels more like an old friend than Lane ever will.

Seth and an entire tribe of interns come at me with a bright white helmet. “Oh no, please don’t,” I lament. “I happen to be having a really good hair day.”

Seth frowns as his minion sinks the helmet over my head. “You agreed to this during the safety portion.”

“I agreed that helmets in general were a good safety feature for those inexperienced on the slopes. In no way was I hoping to score a manmade exoskeleton for myself.”

“Too bad,” he quips while adjusting it over my head. “We’ve attached a Go-Pro to each of you and there will be an entire army of cameramen out there today, but you shouldn’t notice them. The entire point of this exercise is to see the two of you in a natural environment. Remember, the odds are in your favor. And who knows? You might even have some fun.”

“Famous last words.”

Fun is the last thing on the agenda today.

I’m spending the day with Lane Cooper. He sucked the fun out of our lives a long time ago.

Seth points the way, and I slosh my way to the mouth of the ski lift. The mountain doesn’t usually fill up until Saturday, and then the lines are unbearably long. Locals usually avoid Sugar Hill like the snowy plague on weekends because the tourists and the out-of-towners love to swamp the area.

A cool breeze ushers Lane next to me with a whoosh, and even with his helmet and hot as hell tight black pants and jacket, Lane Cooper still has the ability to take my breath away, and I detest him for it all the more.

“Violet.” His eyes widen, and for a moment I fall into the trance of those translucent orbs, and then I remember the fact he saw fit to wash me out of his system with three different girls. Not to mention the girl in question who put our relationship on the chopping block. Who am I kidding? Lane did that himself. He steadies his gaze over mine, and the spiced scent of his cologne transcends the cool breeze, circles me with its warmth. And the fact we’ve layered ourselves in brand new clothes might have something to do with my private heat wave as well. But that heady scent makes me melt a little on the inside. Lane has worn the same cologne for as long as I can remember, and it’s as much a part of him as those obnoxious glowing eyes.

“Lane.” I snap the goggles over my eyes as we scuttle forward and get on the ski lift. Something tells me this is going to be a long, long day.

We ride the ski lift wordlessly to the top. Before disembarking, Lane pulls out his phone and leans in, snapping a picture of the two of us without permission.

“What did you do that for?” I give him a little shove, and the phone goes sailing right over the side. We watch in disbelief as it partially buries itself in the snow. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I look to him in a panic, and those long comma-like dimples of his dig in deep.

“It’s okay. It could have been worse. It could be me flying to my death.”

“Try another funny move and it will be.”

We glide off the lift, and I bolt straight to the area I sent his phone flying and, sure enough, I’m able to fish it out of its temporary dwelling.

“I believe I have something you’re looking for!” I shout as he glides in and takes it from my hand.

His brows twitch as he examines it. “Still works. Screens cracked, though.”

“It is?” I side-step over and cringe as I note he’s right. “Crap. Looks like I owe you a new phone.”

“That’s okay.” He slips it into his pocket and zips it up. “Rumor has it, I cracked something of yours last year.” He glances to my heart, and I shake my head at his cheesy endeavor at an analogy. He pins me with those eyes and singes my soul in the process. Hey, one cheesy analogy begets the next. “I’m sorry, Violet.” He shakes his head. “I’m hoping one day we can sit down and talk about everything that happened.”

“Please. I don’t need a roadmap. I was there, remember? Your lips hit some blonde bimbo’s, and a breakup ensued, ours. The end. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to talk about. Now, are you ready to get your ass kicked on the slopes today? You may have humiliated me when it comes to love, but I’m going to make sure you eat it on the slopes.”

I take off like a speed demon, snaking my way around the masses, and wait for Lane at the bottom. I’m sweaty and panting, despite the artic chill, and I can’t help but laugh as he rides up next to me, spraying the snow over me like a fan.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” I cry, wiping the slush from my shoulders.

“What?” That goofy grin grows over his face. “You looked hot. I was trying to cool you down.”

I shake my head up at him and marvel at how commanding his features are. “Ever the gentleman.” We queue up for the lift and do run after run, me killing him each and every time. After our third go-round I’m beat, my face is burning, every muscle I own is on fire and, heck, even my scalp hurts from housing this boulder over it.

Lane whooshes in next to me with his skis tight, making a sharp turn and coming to an abrupt stop as if he were vying for Olympic gold. More like a participation trophy.

“What took you so long?” I blow over my fingers. “I had so much time, I gave my nails a fresh coat of polish.”

He howls out a laugh. “Honey, I’m just warming up. Are you done playing on the bunny slopes? Because I’m gonna go hang out with the big boys.” He takes off for the lift to our right with the ominous black diamond symbol next to it, stark and glaring like a warning. I may have hung out on this mountain all my life, but I’ve only ventured onto that sheer cliff once with my dad and Wen. They don’t call it Widow’s Peak for nothing. This mountain has a handful of tragedies each year, and they all coincidentally take place on that infamous run. It took me hours to side-step my way down the steep terrain. And I’m still having nightmares about that incident to this day.

“Ha!” I stupidly follow him to the queue and slide in next to him. “You wish you were a big boy.” I snarl at him for throwing down the black diamond gauntlet. “You know, this is really vindictive of you,” I sputter as we move up next to be seated.

“How so?” he shouts as we glide forward into position, and the lift gently scoops us up on our way to the rim of the world. I take off my gloves and pull the safety restraint down in front of us.

“You know I hate this run with all of my heart!” I scream into the wind, and my voice grows threadbare. My God, it felt good to scream my head off. It feels as if this granite boulder I’ve been hauling around with me this entire last year just fell from my arms and into the waiting snow below. Hey, I know! I should totally scream my head off at Lane for the next few hours. I bet it would make for some seriously great TV. I’d probably win an Emmy and an Oscar—and if I do a little tap-dance, maybe a Tony as well.

He barks out his signature obnoxious laugh as I contemplate how bad life might actually be in a five by eight cell. I’m pretty sure if I push him off the lift it would count as a homicide. No matter how hard I tried to make it look like an accident, the look of glee on my face as he plummeted to earth would do me in. And in a serendipitous irony, the evidence would most likely be collected from that Go-Pro stuck to his helmet.

“Sweetie, I’m sure snow patrol will be glad to haul you back down the mountain if you’re too chicken to do it yourself.”

I suck in a lungful of icy air and, swear to God, my lungs freeze solid. The sun disappears behind a curtain of soft gray clouds, and a sprinkling of snow begins to fall over us.

“Did you just use the word haul implying that my carcass is too large of a load to simply give a lift?”

He flips up his goggles, and those pale citrine eyes gawk at me stunned. “All kidding aside, Vi—you are beautiful, and I would never disparage your body that way.” His eyes dip down over me, raking over me, slow and easy, and my entire being ignites with heat as he traces my every curve. “You’re perfect, Vi. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” He flips back on those mirrored lenses, and his chest puffs out as he takes in a breath. “But you know this isn’t for you. Why don’t you wave the white flag of surrender? Head home and play with that doll collection of yours. By the way, I’ve been wondering how your roommate sleeps at night with all of those plastic eyes watching over the two of you.”

I swat him over the arm, and he catches me by the hand and warms it. I yank my fingers back, but I can still feel him there as I pull my gloves back on.

“My doll collection is safely tucked in my old bedroom at my mom’s house, thank you very much. And for your information, my roommate sleeps quite well at night. She has a boyfriend, by the way—not like that’s ever stopped you. It would be just like you to pursue an interest in someone who’s taken. Is that the turn-on? Forbidden fruit?” Collette Jameson was hot and heavy with Mitchell Woods at the time of the infamous hookup. Lane swore they didn’t sleep together, but he was already a liar to me at that point.

He bows his head a moment and flicks his goggles back once again, his eyes pinned on mine. “I will have this conversation with you, Vi. I will have it anywhere but here because the last thing I want is for you to launch the two of us into those boulders waiting below.” His jaw tightens as he shoots a quick glance down the mountain. “And I’d love to do so in private.” His features dull as he pulls his goggles back on. Lane doesn’t really want to air out all of our dirty laundry to the public, and a part of me doesn’t want that either, but we’re here, committed, already on the long, thorny trail that will take four more weeks to army crawl through.

“It’s too late to shelter the dirty details from the world, Lane.” I swallow hard as I keep my focus on the sky as the evergreens grow shockingly small beneath us, the mountain seems to rise impossibly high, and my heart bounces in my chest like a rubber ball. “We’ve already reduced ourselves to nothing but a dirty detail.” A mean shiver rides through me, and it has nothing to do with the fact the snow is coming down blindly fast, covering our thighs with a pile of dust deep enough to bury a finger in.

Lane writhes in his seat a moment, causing us to wobble, and I let out an unadulterated yelp. I glance down and note how miniaturized the world looks from this impossible vantage point. The evergreens look as tall as Barbies, and the people whizzing down the mountain look like flies buzzing by.

“Whoa.” He wraps an arm around me, warm and solid, and I close my eyes, trying to force myself to relax. “Forget the snow patrol. Maybe I should call in for a helicopter rescue and get you down before we hit the top.”

I open my left eye and glare over at him. “You really are full of yourself, you know.” I shrug him off me, and our seat gives another wild swing.

“Easy, sweetie. I’d like to live to beat you down this mountain.”

“Did you just issue a challenge?” My stomach knots up dangerously taut, and vomiting up those waffles I wolfed down this morning seems like a very real option.

“I’d never do that. We both know I’m going to lap you on this one.” Those killer dimples of his dig in deep as he presses out a smile. “Face it, Vi. You’ve met your match on the mountain this afternoon, and he just so happens to be sitting right next to you.”

“Oh my God.” I tip my head back and let out a primal animalistic cry that ripples through my body like a deep tissue massage. Honest to God, I think half the creatures on this mountaintop just howled back.

Lane leans to his left to get a better look at me. “Is that something new you picked up in bed? Because if it is, I kind of like it. Did he teach you that? The guy you cheated on me with? What was his name again?”

“No, no, no. This is all one big nightmare, and any minute now I’m going to wake up and scream your name like a curse.” I moan as my body rocks the stupid pencil we’re currently flying through space in. “Can’t this thing move faster?” I lament as I glare at the upcoming depository. “Finally.” I lift the safety bar and gird myself for what lies ahead. “And don’t think for a minute you’re going to beat me down this mountain. Get ready to eat my dust, Cooper.”

We hit the turnstile, and I glide right out and make the hairpin turn to head down the mountain. My skis turn hard to the left, stopping me cold from moving.

Lane glides down about twenty feet ahead of me before turning around and holding up his poles. “What’s going on? I was just working up an appetite to eat your dust!” he belts it out with a laugh.

I’d give him the finger, but I’m too paralyzed to move. My God, you really can’t see the bottom from here. I’m pretty sure you can’t even see the middle. Hell, it’s so steep, I can’t see the next ten feet. A steady stream of people dive down the side, and for the life of me I can’t see where they went. I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that they just flew off the side of this mountain like a bunch of snow hungry lemmings.

Lane chops his way back up to me, panting while those dimples dig in and out with each breath. “You don’t have to do this, Vi.” Each word comes out in a vat of white smoke. He reaches out with a gloved hand as if offering me an olive branch, and every last part of me wants to take the out. “I get it. This is a bear of a slope. It’s not for the weak or the weary.”

I suck in a quick breath at the audacity, and I’m quick to slap his hand away with my pole. “How dare you call me weak and weary!” I lean in close with my blood set to a boil. “The only moment in my life I consider weak was when I dated you. And you’re the one who’s going to be weary just trying to catch up to me. Get out of my way.” I jump past him and give a little scream as I go airborne for three solid, eternally hellish seconds, and as soon as my skis make contact with the ground, I’m slipping and sliding with the best of them. I try to cut my way down, but the snow feels slick and icy. My heart ratchets up to unsafe levels as I try to mind the trail and keep away from the evergreens just beckoning for me to impale myself into one of their branches.

“Oh shit,” I hiss as I pick up unimaginable speeds, my skis growing ever so wild beneath me. I try my hardest to squat and narrow my toes, but the mountain seems to have given way and I’m left to navigate what feels like a sheer drop. Before I know it, I’m going straight down, top speed. The wind hits my face so hard each snowflake beating against me feels like a razor cutting into my skin.

My skis lift unexpectedly in a soft roll as I go over a bump, and my left pole flies right out of my hand.

“Oh God.” I glance back—a fatal error, and I know it. My speed picks up another million miles an hour as I try my best to keep from eating it. A series of obstacles comes at me fast, a bevy of pines to my left, a set of mini moguls to my right, and I have no choice but to take one. Up I go—and holy crap… My left ski touches down, but my right hooks onto the ground in an unfriendly manner and I cartwheel. My life flashes before my eyes—my arms, my legs snapping in all sorts of directions at once as the world turns upside down, the sky, the snowy white earth quickly reverse their places, and I give one elongated serrated scream as I land hard against a boulder, slamming into the side of it with a thud as I crash back to earth on my back.

Can’t breathe. Can’t feel anything. Oh my God, please let me live. Please let me keep my arms and my legs right where they’re supposed to be.

I knew that I knew that I knew messing with Lane Cooper once again would not end well. I just didn’t think it would end me, too.

A sharp pain rips up the side of my body, and I open my mouth to a silent scream.

“Violet!” a booming voice roars from above as a spray of snow washes over me. “Shit!” Lane falls to my side and flicks off his goggles and helmet in a fury. His face is rife with worry as he pants like mad while getting in close. “Vi,” he barks as his voice breaks. His thumbs brush over my cheeks in one quick motion as he pulls off my goggles. “You’re going to be okay, I promise.” He leans in and brushes a careful kiss to my forehead as if I were made of glass. “I’m going to remove your helmet.” He works it off quickly. “Your right binding didn’t give.” He glides down my body, and I can feel him doing something behind me. A white-hot fireball of pain races up my leg, and I give another bloodcurdling scream. “I’m sorry,” he says as something loosens on my right side, and I watch as the ski falls to the ground. My God, it must have been staked in the ground behind me.

“My leg!” I cry out as Lane wraps his arms around me. “Lane, I’m so scared.”

“You’re going to be okay.” He pulls back, and his eyes darken as if they know I’m not. An entire infantry of snowmobiles glides in around us, and I tense up at the thought of riding down like a mummy strapped to a tennis racket. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving your side, Vi.”

I give a furtive nod as tears blur my vision. “Don’t leave me, Lane. Please don’t leave.”

And he doesn’t. Lane rides down on that tennis racket right along with me, cradling me in his arms, whispering comforting words into my ear all the way down the mountain. And with every inch we travel, it feels as if all of the pettiness between us, all of the hurt and pain melt away.

I lean my head on his shoulder, and he lands a soft kiss to my forehead.

But all of the pain and hurt did happen.

Now what?