An Extra Pump of Sugar

Chapter 20

Baker and I pulled our equipment from the back of her yellow Jeep, grateful to be off the road. Judas never would have made it up the highway on a weekend like this—compacted powder covered the asphalt, and by the time I drove home tomorrow, the ice would have me sailing off the edge of the mountain into oblivion.

It would be a fitting end for Carl, though. The bastard had tortured me all week. He deserved to panic all the way down the face of Mt. Rose.

A few parking spaces over, I spotted Theo, Van, Walker, and Adora slipping on their ski gear and goggles. They snickered at each other as they passed the sunscreen around, and the ease with which they spoke to each other made them the envy of every friend group on this mountain. Theo waved at me, smiling at the hot pink ski pants I'd borrowed from Baker, and I zipped my jacket up to my nose to hide my blush.

"I can't believe it took Theodore of all people to get you on the slopes," Baker complained. "I've been begging you to go with me for years." She scowled as she shoved a white helmet over her pixie cut. "And then that buffoon of a barista takes you to pound town, and suddenly you're a planker."

I shushed her. "Cool it with the hookup stuff. His friends don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"That we're sleeping together."

She gaped at me. "The hell they don't! You both reek of sex."

"We do not." I swatted at her, and in her attempt to dodge my assault, she almost toppled over into the snowbank. "How would you know, anyway?"

"...I know things."

I rolled my eyes, and we crossed the parking lot to join the others, breathing in the crisp mountain air. We'd struck gold with a pleasant weather day in March, but the sky was still overcast, and the temperature was just now breaking 30 degrees. I needed to get moving soon before my blood froze over.

"Glad you two could make it," Theo said, side-hugging me. He looked delicious in his black ski outfit and beanie, and I liked the way his hair curled around his ears and the bottom of his helmet. The white backdrop made his eyes pop, and the albedo exposed his red nose, smudgy eyeliner, and the smooth texture of his skin.

I never thought athleticism would look so good on the guitarist, but the fusion of snow sports and his personal style had my stomach doing flips.

He recognized the ravenous look in my eye, and his lips quirked upwards. Careful, his expression said. We have company.

Walker, sporting a bright blue jacket, raised his pole in greeting. "Stoked you could make it, Mona. I didn't know you skied."

Baker raised her brow in a neither-did-I fashion, and I resisted the urge to stomp on her.

"I dabble," I replied with a small grin. Then I nodded at my short, pugnacious companion. "Also...this is Baker." No explanation seemed sufficient enough to fully encompass who she was, so I left it at that.

The group offered a range of "sup's" and head-nods, and Adora looked relieved to have another girl in the group, probably to help counterbalance all the testosterone-driven decision making.

"You didn't tell us you were bringing a knuckle dragger, Mona," Van teased, gesturing to Baker's snowboard. "You gonna be able to keep up with us, Short-stack?"

Baker narrowed her eyes at the blond. "Funny. Rivas also failed to mention how many concussions you've had, but I think the damage speaks for itself."

That sent a few eyebrows skyward, and Walker coughed into his glove to hide his snort.