Skinny jeans. Boots. Shirt and scarf that look good but don’t look like I’m trying too hard.
Hair?
Down.
Perfect.
Were you this nervous for your first date with Jake?
Worse.
How is that possible?
I couldn’t talk to you about it.
I stop in the middle of my room. I’m a shitty friend.
We already went over this. You were just a little self-absorbed.
Shitty friend.
Tomato tomahto.
I laugh.
Are you gonna tell him about Amber?
I think he has enough self-esteem issues without worrying that I’m switching teams.
Touché.
What are you guys doing tonight?
We’re at a party.
I check the time. Shitty friend forgot about time difference.
The guys say hi.
Send me a pic! While I’ve talked to Sophia every day, I’ve barely heard from Hunter, Sam, or anyone else. It’s like once I moved they forgot I ever existed and—
A picture comes through and I tap it to make it full-screen. Everyone’s there, plus a couple girls I don’t know squeezing themselves in on the ends. They’re all smiling at something beyond the camera—it’s like she caught them in the middle of something that was going on, rather than them stopping and posing for me. I should be happy they’re happy—that’s how a real friend would react—but instead a knot of jealousy works its way up my stomach to the back of my throat until tears burn my eyes.
Looks like fun! I text, thankful that she can’t see my face.
Wish you were here!
xoxo.
I press my hands under my eyes, willing the redness that I know is there to go away. I’m supposed to be happy. I’m about to go on my first real date. I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself because all my friends have forgotten about me.
I’m heading downstairs when my phone dings again. This time it’s Mike.
Have fun tonight!
Thanks babe!
I settle at the kitchen counter until I hear an engine in the driveway. Nerves have me so worked up I almost can’t move. I take a deep breath, smooth my jeans over my legs, and head for the front door. “Bye, Dad!” I yell down the hall.
He steps out of his office and points at me. “Be safe.”
I’m reaching for the handle when the doorbell rings and my heart stutters.
This is finally happening.
I open the door and a blast of cool air chills me. Blake’s standing on the front porch, hands shoved in his pockets, his lopsided smile waiting for me. His eyes lower for a beat before meeting mine. “Hey.”
I step outside and pull the door closed behind me. “Hey.”
His orange Jeep sits in the driveway, its chest all pumped out, ready for whatever we throw at it. The paint is faded and there’s rust in a couple spots, but it’s still the most amazing vehicle I’ve ever seen.
Blake slips his arm through mine and guides me to the passenger side. “Do you like Italian?”
My stomach growls. Per Sophia’s advice I haven’t eaten since lunch. “Carbs are my best friend.”
He smiles. “Good.” He opens the passenger door, helps me inside, then strides to the driver’s side while I fasten my seatbelt. I’m thrown back to the second day I knew him, over Thanksgiving, and too many emotions get clogged in my chest. Even though I knew nothing would come of it, I fell hard and he broke my heart. Yet here I am, sitting in his car, on our way to dinner like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Excitement over what might happen tangles with what already has and I blink back tears.
His hand slides over mine and he squeezes my fingers before he puts the Jeep in gear and we roll out of the driveway. A cloud blankets the moon, making the night sky darker than normal. He peers at the sky through the windshield. “Looks like it’s going to snow.”
Emotions be damned, I lean forward to take in the view. The cloud shifts and a canopy of stars stretch as far as I can see. “It’s so beautiful.” The clarity of the Colorado sky still catches me off-guard. Despite the occasional streetlight, darkness envelopes us, cocooning us in our own tiny universe where nothing is impossible.
His hand reaches for mine, then he pulls my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the tips of my fingers. I stifle a sigh, not wanting him to know how he’s affecting me. I mean, I’ve been a puddle of mush since I met him but I wouldn’t mind hanging onto a tiny shred of dignity.
Snowflakes dance across the windshield as we drive to the restaurant, making the night feel even more surreal. He parks in a lot across the street from an Italian restaurant lit with strings of tiny lights and we step into a snow globe. He tries to cover my head with his arm but I push him off.
“Come on.” I break into a run across the street and we’re laughing by the time we’re under the awning. I stop to shake snow out of my hair and Blake slips his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I look up as his eyes drift shut and his mouth closes in on mine.
His kiss is soft, and far too brief. His mouth moves to my ear and I hear him chuckle. “Everyone’s watching us.”
I twist around. The people seated at the tables along the window most definitely got a show. I press a kiss to his cheek. “Pause ‘til later?”
I feel his smile against my cheek. “I’m holding you to that.”
We go inside and follow the host to our table, then order an obscene amount of pasta from a waitress not much older than us. Once she leaves us alone I allow myself to look directly at Blake. Part of me fears that looking directly into his eyes will make me spontaneously combust, but we are on a date and it’d be weird for me to not make eye contact.
“How’s Andrew?”
His face lights up. “He was supposed to be back at school today but begged his mom to let him have the full week off school.”
“So he’s okay?” Relief sweeps through me. I haven’t been able to get the image of the unconscious boy out of my head. As a skier, thinking too much about what can happen if you land wrong can be more than just dangerous. It can be deadly.
“As okay as he was before.” He laughs. “The first run this season he’d barely strapped on his board when he biffed a jump and broke his arm.”
“Maybe someone should teach him how to land.”
He holds up his hands. “I’m trying. Believe me.”
By the time our food arrives, Blake’s told me so many stories about the Half-Pipes that I feel like I know them better than Blake. And when he’s not talking about his groupies, he’s deflecting questions about himself. I keep trying to bring the conversation back to him, or get him to talk about his brother, but all he gives are one sentence answers before flashing that charming smile. I’m worried that he’ll know all my secrets by the end of dinner and I’ll barely know a thing about him.
When the check arrives, I pull a twenty from my wallet and set it on the table.
His brow furrows. “What are you doing?”
I tilt my head.
“I can afford to buy you dinner.”
“I know—I just—”
“I have a job. I’ve got money.”
“What?”
He pushes my money toward me and I slip it into my hand. I’ve got the sinking feeling that I’ve done something wrong but I don’t understand what.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not your fault.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It’s me. I—”
“My dad never lets me leave without money and this is my first date so I guess I didn’t think about whether you would pay for me.” Sophia didn’t tell me what to do when the check came and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Dad. My cheeks are on fire and I’m sure he’s about to leave me here when he laughs softly.
“Can we skip the movie?”
Panic grips me and I avoid his gaze as the magic from the past hour slips away. I screwed this up worse than I thought. Not only is he laughing at me, he doesn’t want to spend any more time with me. “I—I guess.” I blink rapidly, fighting back tears. Save them for home.
“Hey,” he says softly. His hand grazes mine and I look up. He nods at the picture window overlooking the sidewalk. “I thought it’d be nice to walk around in that instead.”
The snow is heavier than before. Any normal person would hibernate inside near a roaring fire, but I’ve never claimed to be normal. Snow is in my blood. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You finally tell me the truth.”
His smile fades.
“You owe it to me.”
He drops his gaze to our hands and the panic bounces back. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far, but I’m done with tiptoeing around whatever it is that made him act like nothing happened between us.
“Blake?”
“Let’s go.”
Go home? Go for a walk? Where are we going?!
I follow him to the door. He pauses beneath the awning where we kissed earlier. “You’re right.”
At this point I’m so worked up I don’t even remember what I said. “I am?”
“I owe you an explanation.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
He steps onto the sidewalk and it’s like we’ve entered another world. He holds out a hand. “Walk with me?”
A girly squeal ricochets inside my head as I slip my hand into his. Snow covers the sidewalks and clumps in the trees that line the street, blurring their tiny lights, and the roads haven’t been plowed since we’ve been inside. Soft light glows from the restaurant and bar windows along the street, but we’re the only ones outside. “It’s so beautiful.”
“I love being outside before anyone else has touched the snow. It’s like my own universe where anything can happen and...” he trails off.
I squeeze his hand. “I know what you mean.” We cross the street to the pedestrian plaza, where the statues bury their faces beneath pillows of snow. I tug him under a tree and a flurry of snow shields us from the rest of the world. I look up at Blake. This moment is so perfect that I don’t want to ruin it by bringing up the past, but I need answers.
I start easy. “Tell me about your job.”
“That’s not what you want to know.”
“Sure I do.”
He sighs. “My parents own a restaurant a couple blocks from here. I wait tables on weeknights and sometimes on the weekends if someone calls in. It’s not exciting, but it pays for gas.”
I caress my thumb over the back of his hand. “And this.”
He smiles. “And this.” He takes a deep breath and stares into my eyes, but several moments pass and he doesn’t say anything. He leans his forehead against mine. His voice is soft. “I’m a dumbass.”
“I was thinking idiot, but we can use your word.”
He laughs. “I don’t know where to start.”
I pull back so I can see his eyes. “How about what you were thinking that first day when I called your name and you walked away?” In an instant, sadness pushes its way into my chest. I can still picture his face: confusion, then... nothing, because that’s when Brianna staked her claim on me.
His smile fades and he closes his eyes, as if he’s remembering. “I couldn’t stop staring at you all through class. I knew you’d be here and that we might have a class together, but I wasn’t prepared for you to BE here.”
I swallow the impulse to shove him away from me and into the snow. I take a deep breath and let him continue.
“Luke wouldn’t stop kicking me, like I was supposed to get up in the middle of class and be like, ‘Hey, remember me?’” I smile. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to talk to me again. When you said my name, I couldn’t believe it, but before I could say anything Brianna grabbed you and tried to kill me with her Medusa glare.”
“Yeah, what’s that about?” I know what Mike told me, but I’m curious what he thinks.
“Typical middle school bullshit. She’s always been bossy and what-not, but we were in ski club together so I was sort of friends with them.” He hesitates and looks over my shoulder, avoiding my eyes. “Then the summer after seventh grade, she decided I wasn’t good enough to be her friend anymore.”
“Just like that?”
He shrugs, and I know in my gut he’s leaving something out.
I touch his cheek. “What happened?”
He takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “Have you heard about my brother?”
“Just that—that he died.” I try to hide my surprise. What does this have to do with Brianna?
He nods. “Brianna and I used to hang out a lot. At one point I thought she liked me, but nothing happened. You know how middle school is.” I nod, even though up until Blake, high school has been like that for me too. “Since it was summer, I was in charge of watching Cody. We decided to bike to Eldorado Canyon to go hiking and Brianna wanted me to leave him home, but he was only nine and my parents made me take him everywhere with me.
“It was a perfect day—one of those you wish would never end. Bri packed a lunch so we hung out near a creek so Cody could play.” My stomach twists at the picture he paints—he and Brianna all cozy under a tree, kind of like we are now—but I dread where this is going. “On the trail back to our bikes, Brianna kept slowing down. I thought maybe she’d twisted her ankle but when I stopped to see if she was okay—” he breaks eye contact. “She kissed me. And that’s when we heard Cody scream.”
My mouth falls open.
Blake blinks rapidly, as if he’s fighting off the memory. “He’d been walking on this stone wall along the edge of the trail. One minute he was jumping from rock to rock, and the next he fell down the ravine.”
“Oh my god.”
“I jumped down after him. That’s how I got this.” He taps the chipped tooth that I previously thought was adorable. Now I see it as a painful reminder of what he went through. “He was still breathing when I got to him, but—” He stops again.
“You don’t need to keep telling me this.”
He squeezes my hand. “He died on the way to the hospital.”
“Blake, I’m so sorry.”
He bites his lip, his eyes searching mine. “When you told me about your mom, I knew I’d met someone who got it. Who understood what it’s like to have someone you love ripped out of your life.”
I nod, unable to find words. I remember being amazed that Blake appreciated the connection I have with Mom, but I never imagined this is why. “So what happened with Brianna?”
The softness leaves his eyes. “She was a wreck. We both were. But she handles grief differently than we do.”
My breathing stills. “What did she do?”
He clenches his jaw and his grip on my hand tightens. “When we were waiting for my parents at the hospital, she said that if my family had money, Cody would have been with his nanny instead of us and this never would have happened.”
I gasp. “She—she actually said that?”
“I didn’t see her again until the start of eighth grade. That’s when she came up with the Snow Bunnies and Moguls, and started calling me and Luke the Ski Bums. We’ve hated each other ever since.”
“I knew she was a bitch, but this goes beyond anything—I just. I can’t even believe it.”
“You’re the first person to stand up to her for as long as I can remember.”
I run my fingers over the zipper of his coat. I feel more drawn to him than I did before, but that doesn’t erase how he treated me. “Getting your heart broken does weird things to people. I guess I figured I didn’t have anything else to lose.”
His breath catches. “Hey.” He lowers his head so he’s looking me in the eyes. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could take back the past month—well, the past two months—but I don’t know how.”
My throat tightens and my voice comes out high-pitched. “You didn’t talk to me. Not once.”
His jaw clenches. “Can you forgive me?”
I break eye contact, focusing on the lights in the tree fuzzy with snow. Or maybe they’re blurry because of the tears in my eyes. I blink several times to get myself under control. “I want to, but telling me you ignored me for a month because you thought I was friends with the Bunnies—I mean, I get it. She was beyond horrible to you. But it isn’t enough. You really hurt me and I don’t—I can’t go through that again.”
He touches my cheek, tilting my head so I’m looking at him again. “What else can I do?”
“Tell me what you were thinking. Did you want to talk to me? If I hadn’t invited you to my party, would you have ignored me forever?”
He bites his lower lip, studying me. “Let’s come back to the first one. Then yes, and no.”
I mentally replay my questions. “Okay.”
“As for what I was thinking, mostly just how stupid I am.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“Okay, what a heartless bastard I was being.”
The corner of my mouth turns up. “That’s more accurate.” He presses his hand to his heart like I wounded him and I shrug. “Your words.” I rest my hand on his. “So there you were, being a heartless bastard and...” I raise my brows.
“I figured I’d screwed things up so bad that you’d never talk to me again. It was torture having you sit so close, where I could watch you and—” he stops, his cheeks reddening.
I smile. “Go on.”
He turns his hand and slips his fingers through mine. “Cally, I told you before that I’ve never met anyone like you. I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me. I guess I didn’t try because I was afraid of what you’d say.”
“And now?”
“I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“Here in Colorado? Or here, like under this tree in a snowstorm with you?”
“Both.”
“So now the big question.” I take a breath as he watches me. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
Our eyes lock and everything around us comes to a stop. I realize he’s going to kiss me a split second before his mouth touches mine, and I tilt my head up to meet him halfway. His arms slide around me, pulling me close, and I melt against him. The faint scent of garlic drifts between us and I mentally thank Sophia for suggesting I let him try my food so we both smell like it. Then his mouth parts and all thoughts of Sophia vanish. I move my arms around his neck and weave my fingers through his hair as his tongue touches mine. Electricity shoots from my toes straight through my body and I tighten my grip in his hair. He sighs softly against my mouth and my body reacts on its own, pressing against his chest. He spins me around leans me against the tree, never breaking the kiss. A blanket of snow falls from the branches and we both jump.
“Gah!” Blake runs a hand over his hair, brushing out the snow.
I shake my head, sending snow down the back of my coat. I yelp and he cracks up.
“You’d think we’d be used to this.”
I smooth out my hair. “You saying I need to wear a helmet on our next date?”
He smiles, and my stomach purrs when I realize what I said. He lifts his hand to wipe snow off my forehead, then slides it down until he’s cupping my cheek and kisses me again. “Maybe we should find protection,” he whispers against my lips.
“What?!” I push him away, mouth hanging open. “How do you get from kissing under a tree to—”
He points at the sky, a huge smile on his face.
“From the snow.”
He nods.
“Omigod.” Quick! How can I shove my foot deeper into my mouth? I reach for his jacket and pull him back to me. I tuck my head under his chin. “I’m sorry.”
Laughter rumbles in his chest.
“Please say something.”
“You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”
I swat at his arm. “Not helping.” I squint up at him. “And who uses that word when they’re talking about the snow?”
“I’m broadening my vocabulary.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So whaddaya say? Head back to the Jeep?”
“If you can find it out here.”
He grabs my hand and tugs me into the blizzard.
By the time we reach the car, we’re covered from head to toe and the magic of walking in our own personal snow globe has worn off. I’m shivering and wet and, despite yelling at him for suggesting such a thing earlier, I really want to get out of these clothes.
He starts the engine but doesn’t put it into drive. His thumb picks at a piece of black tape wrapped around the shifter. “Do you want to get coffee or something? It’s still early.”
“Coffee sounds wonderful, but I’m soaked.”
He frowns. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“I do, but I don’t.” Sitting in front of the fire sounds like the perfect way to end the night, but only if he comes with me. “Would you, uh, want to come over? You could borrow some of my dad’s clothes while we...” I trail off as the image of us making out in front of the fire distracts me.
“While we what, Cally?” His teasing tone makes me blush even harder.
I smack his arm. “Oh, shut up. You were thinking it, too.”
He chuckles and puts the car in drive. I send Dad a quick text to let him know we’re on our way. He sends back a thumbs-up emoji, but I know it won’t be that simple.
When Blake pulls into my driveway, I have to unstick myself from the seat. I hurry to the front door before my wet clothes freeze, and wait for him to join me.
He closes the door and brushes a kiss on my cheek. “You’re sure your dad’s okay with me coming over?”
“I can’t promise he won’t grill you a little.” There was so much unsaid in that thumbs-up.
He runs a hand through his damp hair. “Can’t wait.”
I touch his hand. “I’ll protect you. Now let’s find you some clothes.” I lead him upstairs. “Wait here.” I step into Dad’s room and start opening drawers.
“Ahem.”
I jump.
Dad’s leaning on the doorframe, eyebrow raised.
I straighten. “Hey, Dad. You remember Blake?”
Blake stretches out his hand. “Sir.”
Dad shakes it and gives a little nod. “Do I want to know what you’re doing?”
“Looking for clothes for Blake to borrow. Where are your track pants?”
“Bottom drawer.”
“Bingo!” I hold up a pair of track pants and a hoodie—Dad’s go-to comfy outfit. “We got soaked in the snow so I invited Blake over and said he could wear something of yours while he’s here.”
“Sounds harmless enough.”
My eyes go wide and Blake shifts on his feet. “Dad!”
Dad smiles. “Meet me in the living room once you’ve changed. I have something... interesting... to tell you.”
He knows I have no patience for secrets. This is probably just a ploy to make sure we don’t linger with our clothes off—but it works. I show Blake to the bathroom and hand him the clothes. “See you in a minute.” I face Dad. “Do you really have something to tell me?”
“I do.” He tilts his head at the closed door. “And now I have a few questions of my own, but they can wait.”
I turn toward my room.
“Cally?” Dad’s voice is low. “I want to see you happy, but are you sure you want to go down this road again?”
I glance at the very non-soundproof door and nod. The little voice in my head warns that maybe Dad has a point, but I mentally tell her to shut her trap.
“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs.”
In my room, I peel off my clothes and toss them on the floor. Old Faithful calls longingly to me, her stretched-out sleeves reaching for my ankles, but I grab a fleece-lined hoodie that hugs my body instead. Just because I’m comfy doesn’t mean I have to look sloppy. I slip into track pants like what I gave Blake, pull my hair into a ponytail, and rush out of the room.
Right into Blake.
He catches me before I fall, arms tight around me.
“I thought you’d be downstairs by now.”
“And sit there by myself with your Dad?” He shakes his head. “Now I really need protection.” He laughs, but the intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch. The quiet hallway feels oddly intimate. Maybe it’s the fact that we were both undressed a minute ago, or that no one’s watching us and this is the first time we’ve really been alone, but it feels like something shifts between us. He seems to read my mind because he doesn’t hesitate covering my mouth with his. The urgency that started to build under the tree is back and our arms are wrapped around each other like we never want to let go.
A cupboard slams in the kitchen and I jump back. His eyes are glassy and he’s staring at my lips. I clear my throat. “Ready?”
He shakes his head but smiles.
I toss his wet clothes in the dryer then lead him to the living room, where Dad’s sitting on the couch.
He smiles.
Balanced on his leg is his missing notebook.