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.
"Packing heat," Van said approvingly. "Respectable."
They smiled at each other, assuring us that their rivalry was all in good fun, but I had a feeling the weirdos were about to hash it out on the mountain, and Theo's amused side-eye told me he felt the same.
As Baker and I headed for the rental shop in the lodge, she sent me a wary glance. "When was the last time you actually skied, Rivas?"
"I don't know. I think I was probably twelve?" I surveyed the northern face of the mountain: the wide slopes splitting the hill into clear-cut corridors, the pine trees growing along the spines of the summit, the skiers weaving their way down the trails and stirring up fresh powder.
It was all so much bigger than I remembered.
Baker grabbed my wrist, and her sobering look gave me pause. "You know you don't have to do anything that scares you, right? Make sure you do what you're comfortable with. Screw everybody else."
"I'm not scared, B."
She let me go and sighed. "Right. What was I thinking? You're Miss Nerves of Steel."
After I'd acquired my skis, we shuffled over to the chairlift to join Theo, Van, and Adora, and it took more effort than I cared to admit. I'd forgotten how heavy ski boots were—and how stunted my mobility was on a pair of sticks. I was too out of shape for this, and we hadn't even started.
Theo's expression brightened when I arrived, and he stepped back to wait beside me in line. I couldn't read his gaze with his reflective goggles in the way, but his flirty smile said it all.
"What."
"You look cute," he said.
I glared at him before realizing my goggles shielded half my face as well. "Baker lent me her stuff, and she's got the fashion taste and stature of a small child." On the plus side, most of her clothing was three sizes too big because her pride wouldn't allow her to shop in the junior section. So at least I wouldn't be sporting a massive wedgie for the next five hours. "It's all I had."
He leaned in close. "Well, that's fortunate. Your ass looks great in those pants."
"Let's just hope they don't rip."
"Speak for yourself, sweet cheeks."
I shoved at him, appalled by his crass, and he laughed, swaying against the force of my abuse.
We boarded the lift after the other four snagged a chair, and my anxiety spiked as I frantically pulled myself forward with my poles, desperate to reach the red line. A second later, the chair swept us off our feet, and I sat down, lifted my skis, and sighed miserably into Theo's shoulder.
He chuckled at my death grip on the lift, and he gently lowered the bar so I could relax. "You're just a ball of anxiety today, huh?"
"Anxiety, stress, and unbridled sex appeal," I joked.
His fond smile made me feel a little too hot for 8,000 feet. "You got that right."
We ascended, and I felt Carl stirring under the surface as I peered below, estimating our height off the snowpack and what a tragic fall would mean for my spine. My palms instantly started sweating, and I leaned back in my seat, willing the apprehension away.
You've done this a dozen times, Moe. Don't be a spaz.
Theo bumped my knee with his. "So, the others are probably headed straight for the single blacks, but if you want, we can just stick to the blue runs for now. Ease into it, get the blood flowing."
The logical side of my brain shouted at me to agree and seize the handicap, but the louder part of me didn't want to show any weakness—or pull Theo away from his friend group. The last thing I wanted to be was a liability he felt obligated to supervise. "I should be okay. I skied black diamonds with Jay a lot."
I didn't have much of a choice, really. The psycho would simply take off down a run, whooping like a mad man, and I'd had no choice but to follow.
I'd learned quick that way.
Theo looked like he wanted to argue, but he let the topic die and squeezed my knee instead. "Alright then, pro."
A few minutes in, we reached the top station, and Theo lifted the bar for us. We took off steadily on the sloped terrain, his hand on my lower back to ensure that I didn't trip and eat shit. But as we glided away from the chairlift, familiar sensations tickled my brain, and Theo's speculation rang true: my muscles did remember the fundamentals, and they brought me smoothly and speedily to the first trail sign.
To my left, I spotted Adora casually making her way down an intermediate hill, and I swallowed.
Okay. Here goes nothing.
I hobbled forward, and Theo shot me an encouraging smile over his shoulder, feeding me confidence and emotional support as we reached the vertex. He was the first to push off, skiing naturally and effortlessly through soft powder, and my whole body buzzed with adrenaline as I recounted everything Jay had ever taught me.
Taking a long, self-soothing inhale, I followed after the barista, copying the way he gently swerved down the mountain. I was shocked by my own coordination and ability to 'make a pizza' when I picked up too much speed—and embarrassed by how badly my glutes, quads, and hamstrings burned this early in the day.
Underneath all the stress, though, I couldn't deny how fun it was to be on skis again. The nostalgia hit me from all sides, and I almost got emotional tapping into old techniques, experiencing familiar sensations and sounds. It was as liberating as I remembered.
The cold air bit at my exposed cheeks, and I held my poles in front of me like extensions of my own limbs, prepared to fall and snap my neck at any moment. But I didn't. In fact, my first attempt at an intermediate trail was going exceptionally well. And somehow, I hadn't made a total fool of myself.
Not yet, anyway.
About halfway down the hill, Theo spun around, and I heard him yell something like, "Fuck yeah, Moe!" But then four small children shot past me, maneuvering like Olympic athletes down the trail—as if it were the easiest run they'd ever tackled—and shortly after that, someone three times my age passed me by.
It shot a fiery bullet through my pride.
Thankfully, Theo didn't seem to care that I was slower than a disabled grandma. He cheered me on from below, and when I slid to an unruly stop at the base of the first slope, he beamed at me like he'd never seen something so amazing.
His excitement was so sincere and genuine, I wasn't even sure what to say to him. I didn't know how to react.
No one had ever looked at me that way.
We took a moment to catch our breaths, and then he jerked his chin at the black diamond trail to our right. "Up for a bigger challenge?"
I nodded and moved to join him, but as we slid closer to the piste, hesitation brewed in my belly. It looked like someone had taken a potato peeler to the hillside, shaving its bulbous features off until it resembled a trillion-cut diamond. And suddenly, I wasn't so sure my pizza-making skills would suffice.
Assuming I'd committed, Theo began his sharp descent, carving away at the bumpy snow in harsh zigzags. But the hazardous run didn't look vincible now that I was standing here at its precipice. In fact, I was on the verge of changing my mind entirely and asking Baker to accompany me down a cozy blue when the woman shot past me at super-speed.
It took me a second to process what was happening. Then Van zoomed by at fifty miles per hour, and I realized the two idiots were racing each other down the mountain, throwing insults at each other and recklessly avoiding other people.
Well...there goes Plan B.
A few snowboarders sped past me, cutting too close for comfort, and I felt the helplessness seep in as Theo's figure grew smaller and smaller down the trail.
Shit. What was the best course of action here? Did I try and find a different route down the mountain?
Was I really about to snap off my skis and trudge uphill in the snow, seeking out a blue square or a green circle? I supposed it was more dignified than scooting down the hill on my ass, but only just.
I scowled at Carl's influence.
No way. I wasn't chickening out today. Not in front of Theo and his friends. And certainly not after dropping a few hundred dollars on gear and a weekend pass.
Theo pulled off to the side of the hill to check in on me, and although I couldn't make out his expression from here, I felt his concern. He raised a gloved hand to give me a thumbs up, and my heart constricted with fear.
Just do it, Moe.
Before Carl could seize power, I pushed off the ledge, aiming for the tree line to keep my cuts as perpendicular to the ski run as possible. But the vertiginous terrain was too sheer, too fast, too terrifying. I was losing my balance, losing control, and it filled my body with paralyzing trepidation. Panicking, I kept my eyes on my skis and the oncoming traffic—refusing to look at the horrible descent below—and that was the only thing that got me to the trees without hyperventilating.
Shit, shit, shit.
I thought I would find refuge out-of-bounds, but instead, I came to an abrupt drop-off where the mountain gave way to a steep gradient of unpacked snow and arborous obstacles. One tumble off the ledge would probably kill me, so I immediately planted my ass on the snow to cease all forward momentum.
Inertia had me sliding a few more inches down the hill, and I stabbed at the earth with my poles to keep myself grounded—and far away from the nearest tree well.
Don't fall. Don't slip. Don't look over the edge.
Don't move. Don't budge. Don't breathe.
I focused on the rapid heartbeat pounding in my temples, and when I felt like I'd successfully anchored myself to the slope, I dropped my head back to the snow, fighting off tears and Carl's resurrection.
Goddammit.
Baker was right. This whole thing was a terrible idea, and now I was trapped on a ski run by myself, battling an anxiety attack. And for what? Why did I push myself so far out of my comfort zone? Why was I trying so hard to impress Theo?
What was I doing?
A moment later, a fellow skier approached me from above, sliding to a parallel stop a few feet away from me. He observed me for a few seconds, and then he pulled his goggles off his face—his beautiful, handsome, familiar face.
We blinked at each other.
"Mona?"
I squinted up at deceiving blue eyes. "...Andrew?"
What was Prince Charming doing here? And what were the odds of my ex-crush finding me staving off a breakdown on Mt. Rose?
His eyes roamed over me, but he didn't look angry with me, despite the outcome of our date night and my dramatic exit. Right now, he just looked incredibly confused. "Are you...okay?"
I grunted and sat upright, surveying the declivity below me. Theo was still waiting for me about a hundred yards away, and his body language indicated just how worried he was—and how much he hated not being able to diagnose and rectify the situation.
"No," I confessed. "I think I bit off more than I could chew here."
Andrew gave a sympathetic huff. "Yeah, things tend to not look as intimidating from the lift. It can be misleading." He frowned at me, contemplative. "I didn't think you skied."
"You never asked."
He opened his mouth and closed it again, and his posture shifted to something a little less heroic. "Look...about that night," he got out, his tone apologetic and ashamed, but I waved him off before he could finish his sentence.
"We were just looking for different things. It's all good."
Ironically, I'd become the bold, unattached girl he'd hoped to score with a week later. And if it weren't for him nailing the coffin shut on my hope for young love, I might never have hooked up with Theo. Which meant I had him to thank for an amazing sex life...and also being stuck on a black diamond run with little to no skiing experience.
He observed me for a moment, tilting his head to the side. "So what's your plan?"
"For what?"
"Getting down," he laughed, and his friendly demeanor chipped away at my fear a little. That charisma was the very thing that had drawn me to him in the first place.
"I have no idea." My gaze slid to Theo again, and I worried my lip. "Maybe you can pass on a message to my friend down there? Let him know I'm having a panic attack, and he should go on without me?" My lips twitched. "Save himself?"
Andrew stared at me for a beat, then shook his head. "Yeah...no. Let's get you down to him, and you two can decide what your next steps should be."
"How?"
"You've got functioning skis, don't you? No broken ankles?" I scowled at him, and he raised a pacifying hand. "We'll slide slip to where he's at." He reached for me to help me off the ground, and the nerves swooped through my abdomen again at the prospect of raising my center of gravity. "Let me show you."
I closed my eyes for a moment to gather my resolve. Then I let out a shaky breath and clasped his gloved hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. My legs trembled like they'd lost all trust in my brain, but I was able to stand on the angled slope without bursting into tears or doubling over with nausea, so I'd call that a win.
"Good. Now we're going to head directly for your friend on the other side of the ski run. Like this." He waited for me to reposition myself before letting go of my hand, and then he proceeded to take incremental steps down the slope with his skis facing the tree line—not unlike the Bachata. Eventually, he transferred his weight backward until he was slowly and gently sliding downward. "Your turn," he said, stopping to observe me.
Holding tight to my poles, I glanced over at Theo, who was now slowly climbing up the slope to assist me, using the same sidesteps Andrew had demonstrated. I probably could have waited here and forced him to scale the mountain, but I wanted to redeem myself, even if that meant removing myself as an obstacle to the other skiers.
Fuck you, Carl. I'm not folding.
I oriented myself so I was standing sideways on the ski run, and little by little, I inched my way toward Theo.
Andrew, true to his nickname, escorted me the rest of my descent, maintaining a ten-foot distance so he could catch me when I inevitably crashed and tumbled down the mountain.
"Yeah, that's it," he said, and I fought the impulse to collapse onto the snow and pray to a god I no longer believed in. Instead, I kept moving across the snow, picking my legs up and setting them down again, my body taut with the fear of slipping.
I began trusting more and more in my equipment, and every once in a while, I let gravity do some of the work for me. But as soon as I began moving too fast, I froze up and cursed my shaky legs. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall.
What felt like several lifetimes later, I finally reunited with Theo. His presence alone seemed to recalibrate my system, and I was half-tempted to throw my arms around him and sob into his jacket.
"Hi," I whispered pathetically.
He lifted his goggles, revealing an alarmed and sympathetic gaze. "Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
I winced and shook my head. Then I turned to address a patient, perceptive Andrew. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."
He smiled at me, and the regret in his eyes almost made me wish things could have been different for us—and that he hadn't acted like a total douchebag that night. "I failed to be a decent guy in the past," he said with a pained shrug. "I'm glad I had the chance to do better." He gave me a princely salute and backed away. "I'll see you around, Mona."
I returned the smile, and he cast a brief, curious glance in Theo's direction before pivoting on his heels and taking off down the run. To my relief, Theo didn't ask me to explain the interaction—or our muddled history—and for that, I was incredibly thankful. He did, however, lift my goggles from my head and furrow his brow at the tears staining my cheeks.
"What happened?"
He didn't appear annoyed with me, or angry, or even remotely frustrated with my shenanigans. Right now, all he exuded was tenderness, and it was exactly what I needed to soothe the twitchy monster inside.
I bent my head to rest it against his chest, defeated and embarrassed by the entire ordeal. "Carl happened." My heart fell to my coiled stomach. "I...can't do this, Theo. I'm terrified. I'm sorry."
He patted my back as a few more tears dripped down my nose. "No, I should have known you weren't ready for the advanced runs. You just seemed so confident, and you were killing it on the blue." He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry I didn't catch on to your discomfort sooner. I shouldn't have passed you to begin with. That was stupid."
I shook my head against his sternum, wrapping my pole-wielding arms around his waist and taking comfort in his stability, his strength. "Don't. I insisted on the black diamond; it's my fault this happened. Besides. I had a feeling I was overestimating my skill set, but I ignored it."
He pulled away slightly, and we locked eyes. "Why?"
I bit the inside of my cheek and glanced to the side. "I guess...I didn't want to be a burden and keep you away from your friends just because I needed extra handholding," I admitted, "although I ended up doing that anyway, so..."
"Burden?" he repeated, confused. "Why would you think that?"
The reasons all seemed so ridiculous now that I had to verbalize them. "Your friends asked me to come, and as a guest, I didn't want to be the girl who couldn't keep up with the group. I didn't want to slow them down or be that person everyone regrets inviting at the end of the day."
A small smile returned to Theo's face. "They're not the only ones who wanted you here, dummy. Maybe I didn't do a good enough job of communicating that." He cupped the side of my face, his gloved hand caressing my freckled skin. "I was stoked to be able to spend the day with you—be it green, blue, or black runs. Fuck, we could have just taken the chairlift round and round for all I care."
My laugh splintered into a cracked sob, and his grin widened.
"I just want us to have a good time together, Moe. But for that to happen, I need to know your limits first." He lowered his voice. "And what worries me is that you didn't feel comfortable disclosing those boundaries to begin with. You've never had issues when it comes to sex or things you deem overkill. So why was today any different?"
I looked up at him again, holding my breath and the mortifying answer it contained. "Because...I wanted to impress you," I got out, watching his face adopt a kind of compassionate perplexity. "And I wanted to fit in with you and your friends."
The people-pleaser in me wanted so badly to belong somewhere I didn't.
He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around me, completely enveloping my face and helmet. "Well, I have good news for you, Stains. You don't have to be a skier to fit in with us. Or a barista. Or even a lesbian." I felt his chest rumble with self-induced snickering, and I groaned at his lame sense of humor. "We all like that you're a psychology student with an art streak. And a hot one at that."
I pushed him away, but we were both smiling as we untangled ourselves.
"And you impress me all the time with your witty insults, absurd sugar intake, and photography skills. Not to mention your blowj—"
I raised my brow, daring him to continue, and he pressed his lips together to temper his smile.
"You don't need to prove anything, Moe. We're friends, and I like you for you. I don't know why you find that so hard to believe." He reflected. "I mean...I was an ass to you for a couple years, but even then, I still looked forward to bullying you every day."
To be honest, I didn't find our compatibility disbelieving; I just worried what it would mean for us down the road. The lines we'd drawn were looking a little blurry from here, and I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with my foggy goggles.
I nodded to show that I understood, and he turned to observe the stretch of snow below us. "What do you think? Should we take the skis off and hike? Or do you think you can keep slide slipping the rest of the way?"
Warmth filled my chest at his willingness to trudge through a half-mile of snow with me, but I felt a renewed sense of confidence now, and with Theo by my side, I knew I'd be okay.
I wiped my eyes and threw my goggles back on. "I want to make it down on skis."
An indistinct emotion flickered in his eyes, but I couldn't tell if it was pride or something else. "We'll take it slow this time. Don't be afraid to sit and regroup if things get hairy—I'll sit with you and fend off the bombers. Okay?"
I shot him a watery smile, and he scanned the trail for his friends before sweeping in and planting a firm, reassuring kiss on my mouth. His intensity almost made me fall over, though, and I smacked him on the arm for knocking me off balance. "What was that for, crazy?"
"Just in case," he teased. "Could be our last."
I gaped at him, shooing him away with my pole, and the shithead laughed again—as light and crisp as the snow we'd displaced. He began skiing backward with ease, facing my rigid figure and urging me to try again. "It's okay, Moe. You've got this." He dragged his goggles back down over his eyes. "I'll be right here if you need me. I'm not going anywhere this time."
In an attempt to buy myself more time, I refastened my helmet strap and tinkered with my boots. Then, when I ran out of ways to stall, I resumed my side slipping method over the trail, watching Theo watch me, and gradually feeling the anxiety bleed from my body.
Based on the odd looks we received from other skiers, I had a feeling I resembled a newborn fawn embarking on its first adventure, but I didn't care. I was slowly gaining more confidence in my movements, and it wasn't long before I was able to return to a rusty set of turns, following Theo's examples and guidance.
Sure, I almost crashed on two separate occasions, but Theo was always there to steady me—and talk Carl off the ledge.
Finally, by some miracle, I made it to the bottom of the mountain on jelly legs, and the moment we touched level ground, I slid to the earth and pledged to never torture myself like that again. Screw elevation change! Screw black diamonds! Fuck that.
But as Theo glided over to me with his poles in the air, triumphant and animated, the exhaustion faded away, and a wave of gratitude swallowed my bones.
Gratitude, and burning, uncontainable affection.