It was like the image of a certain almost-naked-British guy was seared into the back of Trent’s eyeballs. Every time he closed his eyes, his lithe body dashing across the snow appeared. Normally, Trent noticed other guys’ bodies in an abstract sort of way. Like, he thought about how much they did or didn’t work out to get their physique. But the Brit was like an otter or mythical elf. Lithe, slender, but with enough muscular definition so his body didn’t look skinny. Trent’s mind kept drifting back to him simply because he was incredibly attractive to look at.

Which was weird, right? Trent could understand it if it had been a gorgeous girl in a bikini, her breasts bouncing as she jumped into the water, squealing in delight. But something about this guy’s ridiculous dash across the snow along with his willowy body clad only in the tightest, tiniest Speedos had taken up space in Trent’s brain and refused to leave.

Maybe it was just unusual? He had an ethereal, androgynous sort of look about him, further tempting Trent to think he might have been a model. But his dorky nature didn’t really add up with that.

It had annoyed Trent that he’d taken forever to get himself to sleep the first night in his cabin as he’d been so preoccupied with random thoughts about a strange dude. What was that about?

By the time morning came, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. It didn’t help that when he wasn’t thinking about the stranger he’d now crossed paths with twice, he was thinking about his dad. Yesterday’s reception had been far from ideal. But Trent would be willing to try as many times to smooth things out between them so long as his dad was looking after Merlin well enough.

That was stupid, he told himself as he made coffee downstairs in the open kitchen part of the lodge. His dad would never mistreat any animal, let alone a dog. But Trent still wondered if he was feeling brave enough to visit his dad again so soon to check up on them both and allay his fears.

He leaned against the kitchen counter in his sweatpants and hoodie, taking in what was going to be his home for the next couple of months. The cabin was starting to warm up now with a fire going in the fireplace. Trent was hoping he wouldn’t have to swaddle himself every night just to avoid freezing to death. He was used to sleeping in the nude.

It would also mean he wouldn’t have to resort to evening swims to warm up in future. It would probably be best to avoid the pool for a while if that was where the British dude was going to be hanging out. Trent had embarrassed himself twice in front of the guy now, and he didn’t look forward to doing it a third time. He probably thought Trent was a total monosyllabic asshole.

Aside from being freezing when he’d first entered yesterday, Trent had to admit he liked the staff cabin he’d been allocated. It was becoming cozier as the temperature crawled up, and Trent had to admit he’d always been a sucker for a log fire having grown up around snow. It happily crackled now as he padded around the main room of the cabin.

The open plan of a kitchen, den and dining room all rolled into one made it feel even more intimate. The floors, walls and furnishings were all made of the same dark wood, but the sofa coverings, throw pillows and big fluffy rug by the fireplace were a pleasant cream. The lampshades and dining chair covers were a deep forest green. Artifacts from the local Arapaho tribe decorated the walls in a tasteful way. Trent was part Arapaho on his mom’s side, so he appreciated seeing her culture being treated respectfully. He suspected whoever lived here last had taken it upon themselves to spruce the place up, rather than relying on the resort to do it for them.

Off from the main room was a bathroom and a single storage closet filled with spare bedding and cleaning products. Creaky wooden stairs led up to a half floor above where his double bed sat. There was a balcony that looked down on the rest of the cabin making the whole place feel connected. Trent kept finding himself idly walking over to it whenever he was getting dressed or undressed.

Yes, he could see himself being happy enough here during his stay. At least there was internet and the TV had Netflix. If his dad refused to talk to him, he’d veg out and eat junk for a change. If Barry didn’t like what that did to his body, he’d just have to shove it.

Not that Trent was planning on staying put for three months. In fact, he was already gearing up for his first snowboarding session. He felt electric with anticipation. Having spent a good chunk of his youth on the slopes when he wasn’t on a stage, he’d missed the simple joy of throwing himself down the side of a mountain over and over again.

Being near the end of the season on what was already a quiet resort, the slopes were sparsely populated when Trent headed out midmorning. He’d bought his own snowboard and gear, ordering it to be delivered to the cabin along with his weights. If he was going to be at the resort for three months, he wasn’t going to mess around borrowing kit. He knew what the best brands to buy were thanks to his previous experience. As he took the lift up the side of the mountain to one of the medium slopes to ease himself back in, he felt comfortable blending in with the other skiers. Just an ordinary guy for once.

The same could not be said for all the guests out on the snow.

As the ski lift slowly brought him upward, Trent glanced down at the beginners’ slope. His eyes were immediately assaulted by a riotous jacket of a hot pink camouflage pattern, hot pink trousers, goggles and gloves, contrasted with a black snowboard and toque, complete with fluffy pom-pom. Trent would have assumed it was a woman, but the lift was close enough to the ground that when the person took off their hat and glasses, looking up as they took a breath, he could recognize them.

It was the British dude.

Trent sighed and looked away. Was he cursed to keep running into this guy everywhere he went? For some unfathomable reason, as soon as Trent realized it was the same guy, his mind went straight back to the image from the night before of his svelte body disappearing into the outdoor pool, tight black Speedos barely concealing his junk.

“For fuck’s sake,” Trent muttered to himself.

He’d seen countless guys in various stages of undress on numerous tours and sets. Hell, he himself hardly bothered to cover up if it was inconvenient and he was among friends. His Below Zero buddies had seen it all, he had no doubt, and more to the point, no shame. He wasn’t judging this guy for practically skinny dipping, especially when he obviously had thought he was alone. So why was the image burned into Trent’s retinas?

He shook his head and tried to push the issue aside. So what? He was a creative person, he found appeal in all kinds of different things. There was evidently something about this guy that had captured his imagination and that was it.

Hurtling down the mountain on his first run in years helped to push all unessential thoughts from Trent’s mind. It was just him and the snow and it was blissful. His heart was pounding by the time he had ridden his way to the base again, despite it not being a tricky route. There was nothing quite like snowboarding.

The distraction didn’t last though. When Trent rode the lift up a second time, the Brit was still struggling on the same patch of snow, falling over himself. And the third. By Trent’s fourth ride up, the guy had his phone out. From the way he was looking at it, Trent would have to guess he was watching online tutorials on how to ride a goddamned snowboard.

He didn’t know why, but the sight irritated him. The guy was evidently clueless, but every time Trent rode past, he was doggedly trying again. It was obvious he hadn’t even attempted a dry slope before he’d brought himself out onto actual fucking snow.

However, as much as Trent wanted to be annoyed by this guy, he couldn’t stop himself being impressed at his single-minded determination. He wasn’t letting that damn board beat him. It was endearing.

Which is probably why Trent couldn’t stop himself on the next journey upward catching the lift to the beginners’ slope instead of the advanced one he’d been intending to try out.

He felt bad for being a complete jerk to this guy, twice. He hadn’t deserved it either time. Trent wasn’t an asshole, he wasn’t. He was sick of the press and Hollywood and even his own dad making him out to be that way. Barry was right. He needed to start behaving more like himself before he ruined his reputation completely.

It was more than that, though, he argued to himself as he dismounted from the lift and made his way over to the Brit. He wanted to help this guy. He seemed nice. And no other fucker out here was offering to give him a hand.

“Hey,” Trent grunted as he approached.

The Brit spun around in a small wave of snow and stumbled backward. Unfortunately, he had one foot attached to his board, so he pinwheeled his arms as he started to fall.

Trent was too quick for that, though. He lunged forward and grabbed him by one of his gloved hands and his waist, still slim despite being clad in numerous layers of skiwear. He was so close, he could see the guy blink through his tinted goggles.

“Oh,” he said, his breath coming out in a little puff of white condensation. “It’s you. Hello.”

He looked completely bemused and a tiny bit scared. Trent cleared his throat and released him so they were both standing upright once more.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

For a beat, the guy just stared. Then he broke into a truly beautiful smile. Model, Trent’s brain suggested again. “No, you’re all right,” he said, a little breathlessly. “You just made me jump.”

Trent licked his lips and squinted against the bright sunshine. Fuck, this was awkward. What was he supposed to say? Hi, I can’t stop thinking about you almost naked. You suck at snowboarding, so in a moment of spectacular arrogance, I decided to come down here and offer to teach you. Oh, did I mention I’m a movie star?

“Hey,” he said again. “Um. I’m Trent. We met the other day.” That was nice and vague. He didn’t think it wise to bring up the pool.

The guy smiled wider, however. “I remember,” he said cheerfully. “I’m Ashby. I’m sorry. I think I startled you both times.”

“Nah,” Trent said with a sigh. Might as well be honest. “I was an asshole. I’m not usually that rude. Thought maybe I could make it up to you.”

Ashby’s eyebrows rose under his goggles. “Is that so?” he squeaked.

Trent indicated the board. “You seemed like you were struggling. No offense.”

Ashby glanced down at where his foot was still attached to the board. For a second, Trent thought he’d just been a rude asshole again by pointing out the obvious. But after a second, Ashby laughed with genuine mirth.

“Oh, you spotted that, did you?” he asked with a chuckle. “Yes, I’m a hapless beginner at real risk of breaking an ankle or a wrist or both. Never tried snowboarding before.”

“I guessed.” He gave Ashby a half smile, and for the first time since they had run into each other, he didn’t feel quite so awkward. Ashby grinned some more and rubbed the back of his head. “You want a hand?”

Ashby blinked. “You – you’d teach me?”

Trent shrugged. “The basics,” he said. “Get you on your feet. It’s the least I can do after ignoring you twice. You seem like a nice guy.”

Ashby’s smile became bashful. “Thank you,” he stammered. “I – that would be lovely. Although,” he added, touching Trent’s arm briefly, “I didn’t think you were an asshole.” Trent arched an eyebrow. It was a look he was famous for. It was intimidating and smoldering all at once, or so he was told. Ashby bit his lip. “Okay. Maybe a tiny bit of an asshole. But I can see that’s not true, now.”

Trent grunted and dropped his board down on the snow. “Haven’t started teaching you, yet.”

Ashby fell to his ass and unclipped his boot from the board, ready to start from scratch. “Nah,” he said cheekily. “I can already tell. You’re a big old teddy bear.”

Trent didn’t know why that pleased him so much. But it did.