by Jacob Chance
“What’s wrong?” Perri inquires catching me unaware of her return.
“I was just thinking how tired I am. I think we might have to play cards tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”
“No problem.” Is that a flicker of disappointment I saw on her face? Maybe she doesn’t want to go to bed this early.
“If you want to stay up, you’re welcome to. I don’t want to ruin your night because I’m hitting the sack.”
“No, I could use the rest too.”
I shut down the lights and we head up to the second floor. There are so many large windows in this house that let in the moonlight, but I flick on the hallway light anyway. I don’t want her leaving her room in the night for something and falling down the stairs because she’s disoriented.
We stop at her door. “If you need anything don’t be afraid to ask. Knock on the wall or bang on my door and I’ll wake up.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m used to living in the city, remember?”
“True, but sometimes the thought of what might live in the woods is more frightening than knowing what you’re dealing with in the city.”
“Good point. Thanks for that by the way. If I have a nightmare about a hairy forest monster I’m waking you up.”
I grin. “Hey, I’m just being helpful, but you know where I’ll be.” She steps inside her room. “Perri,” I call out, both hands holding the outside of the door jamb, halting her. She turns to face me. “Thank you for coming home with me. I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiles. “I’m grateful you asked. I’m looking forward to what we can get into tomorrow.” Her hand slowly closes the door and I step back.
“Sleep well,” I whisper, placing my hand on the wooden surface. Heading to my room, I’m feeling upbeat even though I’m certain I’m in for hours of sleeplessness. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop thinking about Perri and how we’re only separated by a single wall.
“Are you ready for some fresh Vermont air?” I ask, straightening up from lacing my boots.
“I think so. Unless it’s so cold that it hurts to breathe. If that happens you’ll be on your own.” She yanks her ski pants over the top of her winter boots and rises from the bench to slip on her matching ski jacket.
“Nah, you’ll be fine. It’s a mild forty-five degrees. That’s practically balmy.” I tug on my hat and gloves and watch as she wraps a scarf around her neck before tucking her hair under a thick knit cap.
“Do you want some gloves?” I inquire.
“Nope. I have them right here.” She reaches in her pocket and pulls out knitted mittens with fur around the cuffs.
Stepping outside, I hold the door open for her as she passes through while slipping her hands inside the mittens.
“What’s the plan?”
“To enjoy this beautiful day. And first on our agenda of fun is sledding.”
“We’re going sledding?” She replies her eyes alight with enthusiasm and a large grin spreading across her tempting, pink lips.
“Yep. There’s a great hill on the rear of our property. You’ll fly down it, but walking back up sucks.”
“That’s okay. We’ll get some exercise while we’re having fun. With a week without dancing I’ll need it.”
“When’s the last time you went sledding?”
“Oh jeez. I’m not sure. Probably when I was like ten.”
“What?” I’m outraged for her. “We’re about to remedy that. Sledding isn’t just for little kids. You’re never too old to fly down the hill on a scratched up piece of plastic. Some of our sleds date back to the nineteen-seventies, from my dad’s childhood.”
“Are both your parents from Vermont?”
“No. My mom’s from New Jersey. They met freshman year of college and the rest is history.”
“That’s sweet. They’ve been together a long time.”
“Yeah, and they’re happy together. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been in a rush to tie myself to just any girl. I want a relationship like theirs.”
Her boots kick up snow as she walks across the front yard beside me. “My parents are happy too. I guess we’re lucky that way. So many people our age come from broken homes. Mine was filled with laughter.”
“How come you don’t have a boyfriend?” I blurt out.
Her head swings in my direction. “Once guys find out who my dad is they run the other way.”
“Come on. You’re a beautiful, intelligent girl. I have a difficult time believing no one thinks you’re worth the risk.”
“I’m not saying no one would, but I’m not willing to go out with any guy just for the sake of having a boyfriend. I’d rather be alone. My schedule is packed and some guys want a girl who’s at their beck and call. I’ll never be like that.”
“I think that makes you special.”
“You do?”
“Yes. No girl should have to run when a guys snaps his fingers. Relationships are about compromise and finding what works for both people.”
“How’d you get so smart about this stuff when you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“My parents are great role models and have been very open with Donovan and me about what makes relationships work. As much as we hated those discussions, they insisted it was something we needed to be educated on.”
“I don’t think I know anyone whose parents are like yours and I mean that in the best way. My own certainly aren’t. They like to pretend sex doesn’t exist around me.”
“I’m grateful now, but at fifteen and sixteen I didn’t want to hear how it’s important to respect your significant other in and out of the bedroom.”
“I’m cringing just thinking about my parents talking about that with me, but it worked for you. Your parents are the reason why you’re such a nice guy.”
“Nice,” I tsk.
“What? You don’t like being nice? What about dependable?”
“I’m not opposed to it, but it’s like the kiss of death when a pretty girl says a guy is ‘nice’.”
“You think I’m pretty?” She seems surprised.
“You’re gorgeous. I don’t think there’s a single person in the world who wouldn’t agree with me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” she mumbles.
“Why do I feel like there’s a story in your past that needs to be told? Tell me who made you doubt your attractiveness and I’ll beat his ass.”
She giggles, “You sound like a therapist. Besides, it’s not important.”
“Yes, it is if it’s still affecting you.”
“I can’t say there was one person in particular that made me feel unattractive. There’ve been many times where I was called fat by other girls.”
“Fat? I’ve seen you practically naked and there’s nothing fat about you. Unless you mean P.H.A.T.” I wink.
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “And guys have always seemed to want me for a quick tumble. They like my tits and ass, but no one wants anything deeper than that.”
God, the thought of her being with any other guys makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t stand knowing other men have touched her perfect body and seen her without a stitch of clothing.
And I want more than tits and ass from her… but she’s not interested. Sure, I think she finds me attractive, but not enough to do anything about it.
“You’re more than your curves and anyone worth being with will show you that.”
She snickers, “Curves. Such a politically correct way to say tits and ass.”
“I don’t mind saying tits and ass, but I was trying to be respectful of you.”
She smiles over at me, tapping the back of her hand against my arm. “See, nice guy.”
See, kiss of death.
Chapter Thirteen
Perri
“When you mentioned an outbuilding I imagined a primitive shed. This is bigger than some of the houses in my neighborhood, and nicer too.” Holy crap. I’d live in their shed anyday. Peering over my shoulder, I glance back at the
house across the expansive property.
“Well, we have a lot of toys to store. And for all intents and purposes this is our garage. From what my dad’s told me, my mother insisted it match the style of the house, even if they’re not near each other.” He punches in a code on a keypad and the wide garage style door opens revealing a large, open space. Deep shelves line the back wall and gardening tools and winter snow shovels hang from hooks on both of the side walls.
Nolan heads toward the back, his boots scuffing on the cement floor, and grabs a couple of items from a shelf. Walking between a trailer with jet skis loaded on it and a speedboat, he returns to me. He shows me a large, green plastic circle and a silver, metal one.
“What are those?”
“We call them flying saucers. They’re sleds that my dad’s family had when he was a kid.”
“Don’t you have any newer ones?”
“We do, but these are awesome. Trust me. I’ve sledded enough to know what works the best. The saucers spin when you go down the hill… get it? Flying saucers.”
“I got it. I just hope I don’t go careening backward into a tree.”
“You should trust me to keep you safe. This hill has no trees. Do you know how many times Donovan and I have gone down blindfolded? If there were trees we wouldn’t have been that daring.”
“Oh my God. Your poor mom.” Boys are never content until they make something more dangerous. “I bet you would’ve gone down blindfolded even if there were trees.”
He grins. “You’re probably right, but hey, we made it out alive. Come on, I’ll show you there’s no reason to be nervous.” We trek toward the rear portion of the land in comfortable silence with only the crunching of the snow and whoosh of our ski pants between us. We come to a fairly steep drop and I gasp, “We’re sliding down this?”
He grins. “Yeah. Isn’t it great?” He hands me the green saucer.
“That’s not a hill, it’s a small mountain.”
“I’ve been sledding on this hill more times than I can tell you. You’ll be fine. How can you dance and spin around, hanging upside down, high in the air without any fear if this is scary to you?”
“When I’m climbing the silks, I’m in control. Spinning wildly around on that plastic disc isn’t the same.”
“I’ll go first so you can see what it’s like. Once I get to the bottom I’ll wait for you. I’m going to show you where there’s a rope you can use to help you climb back up the hill.”
“Okay. Before you go I want to know if you left the door to the house unlocked or not.”
“No, the door locks automatically. Why? Do you need the bathroom?”
“Nope. But if you get hurt I need to call for an ambulance.”
He chuckles, “I’ll be fine. But if it makes you feel better, the code is sixty-nine, sixty-nine.”
“Are you joking?”
“I wish.” He shakes his head. “My parents were both born that year.”
“At least there’s a legit nonsexual reason to use that number.”
“How about a kiss for good luck?” He closes his eyes, pushing his lips forward into an exaggerated pucker.
Bending down, I swipe my mitten through the snow and smack him right in the kisser. “There’s a wet one for you,” I laugh.
His eyes fly open and gleam with ill intent as he uses the sleeve of his fleece jacket to dry the shimmering snowflakes from his lips. “I’ll let that go for now, but later on you can remember you started it.”
Uh oh. I’m a little nervous now. I didn’t think this through at all. He’s going to bury me in snow or pummel me with snowballs when I least expect it.
He walks forward to the very edge of the hill and sits down on the saucer facing backward.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready to push off.”
“Backward?”
“It’s the easiest way to get a good shove off. Watch me.” He grips the canvas handles on each side and uses his heels to thrust against the snow covered ground. Immediately he’s in motion and he bends his legs in and crosses them tightly as he repeatedly spins around. “Woohoo,” he yells, whirling around uncontrollably. I’m dizzy watching him. How am I going to do this by myself?
He reaches the bottom of the hill and keeps moving although his speed has decreased. When he finally stops, he whoops and jumps to his feet. He looks up at me, shouting, “Your turn.”
Shaking my head, I take a step backward. He points at me. “Get your ass down here.”
Oh God. I know I need to suck it up and get this over with. The first time will be the scariest and then each time after will be better.
“Perri, let’s go.” He claps his ski gloves together so hard I can hear it.
Taking a deep breath for courage, I set the saucer down and sit in the middle of it. Wedging my heels in the snow, I hold myself still as I grip the handles and stare down at Nolan.
“Go backwards,” he shouts up to me.
“No way,” I yell back. Closing my eyes, I focus on slowing my breathing and when my eyelids open, I pick up my feet and bend my legs to a crisscross position. The sled doesn’t move.
“You have to push off,” Nolan shouts.
There’s no way I’m pushing off, but maybe I can wiggle the saucer forward enough to catch some momentum. Rocking from side to side inches me forward and before I know it, I’m flying down the hill. Spinning like the Tasmanian Devil, everything around me is a blur of white. “Ahhhh,” I shriek. It feels like I’m going at least one hundred miles an hour and the scraping of the saucer careening over the snow is frightening. In my mind it’s similar to the sound the luge makes when I watch the Winter Olympics on television.
Nolan’s laughter reaches my ears, angering me at first. But when he calls out, “You’re doing great,” I realize I’m actually enjoying this. I notice the same thrilling flutters in my stomach that I get from performing daring feats on stage. Throwing my head back, I stare up at the sky and relish the experience.
When I come to a halt, Nolan is waiting for me. He extends his hand, pulling me to my feet and into his ready arms. “You were awesome.” He spins me around. “Oh, maybe we should be spinning the other way to unwind you,” he jokes, before spinning the other direction for a few speedy twirls.
I giggle uncontrollably and grip his shoulders when he sets me on my feet. Beaming up at him, I take in his wind pinkened cheeks and it’s all I can do not to pull his lips to mine. Searing, uncontrollable desire races through my veins. Kissing him would only add to the exhilaration of this moment, but I can’t allow myself to act on my desire.
Taking a step back, I adjust my hat and try not to notice the disappointment reflected on Nolan’s handsome face. “I’m ready to do that again,” I inform him, bending over to pick up the green saucer. When I straighten up, his features are composed.
“Come on. Over here’s the rope I was telling you about. You can sit on the saucer and use your arms to pull you up or you can climb up and use the rope for aid.”
Choosing to climb up, I follow Nolan. Stepping into the deep depressions his boots make in the snow helps me to progress faster than if I tried on my own.
We spend the next hour sledding and forgetting about everything but enjoying this beautiful winter wonderland. When my legs are weak from climbing the hill at least fifty times, we return the sleds to the outbuilding.
“I think I’m ready for a nap,” I announce as we trudge through the snow and head back to the house.
“Here, hop on and I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
“No. How’s that fair to you? I’m sure you’re tired too.”
“This is nothing compared to the football drills coach makes us do. Come on.” He bends down and waits for me to climb on.
Oh, what the hell? I jump up and clench his lean hips with my inner thighs. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drape my upper body over his back and place my cheek as close to his ear as I can. His hands hold my legs, securing me in
place as he closes the distance between the house and us. The ride is over all to soon and when I slide down his back, I briefly place my cheek between his shoulder blades, reluctant to end our contact.
“How are your snowman building skills?” Nolan questions.
“Out of practice. I haven’t built a snowman since I was like eight.”
“That right there is a tragedy.”
“What’s so tragic about wanting to be warm instead of outside in the freezing weather?”
“Are you cold now?”
“No, I meant it in a general sense.”
He cocks his head. “We’re going to make a snowman before we go inside. And if he comes out as good as I hope, I’ll make you hot chocolate and fluffernutter sandwiches too.” I laugh and he lifts a brow. “What’s funny about that?”
“Nothing really, except you’re supposed to say fluffahnuttah. Who taught you to pronounce your r’s?”
“I’ve never had that much of an accent, but since I’ve been living in the frat with Clancy and the other native Bostonians I’ve noticed it’s more pronounced on certain words. So, back to lunch. You don’t have a peanut allergy or anything do you?”
“No, but thanks for asking. I love fluffahnuttah sandwiches. If you make me bologna and cheese while I’m here I may never leave. This is great, I feel like we’re recapturing my youth.”
“We’re not recapturing anything. I’m showing you that you never outgrew these experiences to begin with. Who says there’s an age limit on having fun and eating foods you like?”
His words make complete sense to me, but somehow I never thought about this before. I know why I originally stopped playing in the snow. I got older and the teenage years were all about growing up as quickly as possible. But now? I no longer feel the pressure to care what other people think about me. And building a snowman with Nolan seems like the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.
“I’m gonna grab something in the mud room. You start working on Frosty.”
