Wiping Out (Snow-Crossed Lovers Book 2)

by Carrie Quest

  It’s perfect, and when we stumble back to the hotel later, I realize that it didn’t hurt. Not even a little.

  21

  Piper

  In the morning Adam’s up and gone before we can talk, and I only hear from him once during the day, a text telling me that he’ll be working late so he’ll meet me at the party later. Something is clearly up and I make a mental note to track Ben down and ask him if he’s talked to Adam lately, but the day crashes over me like one of those hundred-year waves that surfers dream about, and from the moment I wake up I’m just trying to keep my head above water.

  First, they deliver the wrong balloons. Nat’s book is called Tag and it’s an urban fantasy about magical warriors who imbed graffiti with spells, so I ordered fifty balloons with the title in a graffiti font and fifty more with pictures of witches and ghosts and black cats. That’s what I ordered.

  What I get when I show up at the event room I booked at the hotel is ninety-nine balloons that say Happy Birthday Tad! in sparkly pink letters. The I in birthday looks suspiciously like a penis, with a heart as a dot. Perfect.

  I can’t figure out how to hook my laptop up to the data projector because the instructions are in Korean and nobody in the hotel can locate the cases of Natalie’s favorite Pringles that I special ordered from home. I’ve checked with the manager at least five times since we arrived to make sure the chips were waiting, but now they’ve disappeared.

  Add to that the fact that Ben keeps texting me asking how it’s going and I’m ready to pull out my hair. Maybe I could sell it and buy a train ticket to escape.

  I’m texting Ben back for the fifth time to say that everything is under control when my mom wanders in. She’s obviously fresh from the shower, her face is glowing the glow of the well-rested, and she’s sipping a fancy coffee from the cafe downstairs.

  I love her, but I want to kill her.

  “Anything I can do to help, honey?” She glances up at the clusterfuck of Tad penis balloons bobbing around on the ceiling but wisely says nothing after taking a look at my face.

  “No thanks. It’s all under control.” I fix a rigid smile in place and try to tamp down my inner homicidal maniac. “You should go rest, Mom. It’s going to be a late night.”

  A little frown crosses her face. “I just woke up, Piper.”

  “Still, it’s been a big trip.” I spot Min-ji, the hotel employee I quizzed about the Pringles, hovering near the door and shoot her a smile. “I’ve got to sort this out, Mom. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  She peeks up at the balloons again. “I could do something about that…” She raises one finger timidly, like she’s afraid I might bite it off, and points to the ceiling.

  “All under control,” I repeat firmly. “They mixed up the deliveries but they’re tracking down the right ones as we speak.” The last thing my mom needs is to be running around a strange city in the freezing cold trying to find balloons. My dad will kill me if I let her try it.

  She sighs. “If you’re sure, honey.”

  “I’m sure.” I wave at Min-ji and put my arm around my mom, gently escorting her to the door. Totally not pushing her. She only stumbles because she’s clumsy and her shoes are a little big.

  “Have a great day!” I call as I deposit her in the hallway. She gives me a little wave and turns to go, and I’m deep in chips-related conversation with Min-ji before she hits the elevator.

  Four hours later the Pringles have been located in a dusty basement storage room. The hotel is short-staffed today so they ended up giving me the key to the basement and telling me to find them myself, which I did, eventually. I also found Gabe, Adam’s boss, getting busy with his wife in a broom closet. I slammed that door shut pretty damn fast. They can afford the best hotel rooms in the world, so why they want to fuck in a dusty closet is anyone’s guess, but judging by the sounds they were making, it was clearly working for them.

  Maybe I’ll keep the key and bring Adam down there later.

  So the snacks are a go. Sadly, the balloon guy is being cagey as hell about where my order went and the English instructions for the data projector are still MIA. My stomach is growling, my head aches, and I’m covered in dust, but I’m not leaving this room until I figure everything out. I spent days putting together the perfect slideshow for Nat, and I will not be defeated by a data projector. I’m Piper fucking Easton.

  “Need some help?”

  Zeke lopes into the room and leans against the table where I’m fighting with various cables. He’s wearing jeans with a huge hole ripped out of one knee, ratty green Converse sneakers, and a Grateful Dead t-shirt that looks old enough to have belonged to one of the original members. His blond hair is scraped up in a man bun that would look hipster poseur on most people but makes him look like he just rolled out of bed in an classic VW van and is getting ready to hit the waves while his girlfriend does yoga on the beach and his golden retriever frolics in the sand. I happen to know the guy lives on potato chips and beer, yet he’s got the body of a god and the face of a rogue angel.

  He’s so annoying.

  He’s also sporting a hickey on his neck and some scratches on his forearms that look like nail marks. Interesting.

  “No need, Snakes on a Plane,” I answer automatically, even though I’m pretty sure the cables have started moving on their own and are plotting to strangle me. “I’m fine.”

  Zeke grins. “Ah, he said you’d say that.”

  “Who?” I glare at the red cable. That bastard is the ringleader here, I can tell.

  “Adam. He’s busy, but he gave me a call, asked if I’d check on you.”

  My head snaps up. “Really?”

  Zeke nods. “Yup. Said to stay here and help no matter what you said. So here I am.”

  “You don’t have to stay,” I say. “I can fix this myself.”

  “Oh, no,” he tells me. “I crawled out of a very warm bed, where I was extremely happy, to come be your assistant. It was not easy, but I made the sacrifice. Throwing it back in my face would be rude.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Drop the cables, Piper.” There’s laughter in his voice, but his eyes are serious. “Let them go, Baby E, and back away slowly before someone gets hurt.”

  I roll my eyes, but I do what he says, releasing the tangle of cables and standing slowly, wincing as I stretch out my cramped muscles.

  “I don’t know why you call me Baby E,” I mumble. “You’re the same age as me, Ezekiel Evans.”

  “You’re Ben’s baby sister,” he says. “And you’ve got those cute little baby cheeks.” He clucks at me and pinches my cheek, laughing when I swat his hand away.

  “Relax and go get something to eat,” he says. “I’ll deal with this.”

  I give in, for the moment anyway, and take a few steps, swinging my arms to get my blood moving. Zeke takes my chair and starts sorting out the cables, an intent look on his face.

  “Congrats on the gold medal,” I tell him.

  He nods, not taking his eyes off the cables. “Thanks, Pipes.”

  “How did the Instagram challenge go last night?”

  That gets more of a reaction. His lips tip up and he chuckles to himself. “Very well, thank you.”

  “Did you win?”

  His smile grows. “A gentleman never tells, Piper. Go get some food.” He tips the chair back and swings his feet up on the table, making himself comfortable. Probably getting ready for a nap. There’s no way I can leave him in charge, even for the five minutes it would take to run down to the lobby and grab a sandwich and a coffee at the cafe.

  Mmmm. Sandwich.

  “Aren’t you sponsored by a shoe company?” I ask, eyeing a hole in his Chucks.

  “Mmmm.”

  “Don’t they send you shoes?”

  He glances up. “They do. But these are broken in the way I like ‘em. Plus, they match my eyes.” He flutters his eyelashes at me and damn if he isn’t right. The exact emerald green of his shoes. So annoying.<
br />
  “Hunger is making you grumpy, Baby E. Go.”

  My stomach growls, long and loud and deep, and I clap my hand over it to try and cover the sound. Zeke waves me away, but I stay put. Nat is my best friend and my brother is obviously counting on me to make this night a success.

  “Do I have to carry you out of here? I’m like the Batman of computers, Piper. People shine the light in the sky and I come make everything better. You’re in good hands. Go.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head and gets back to work, and I have to admit that he looks like he actually knows what he’s doing. I mean, he appears to have some kind of system in place besides randomly grabbing cables and sticking them into holes, which is what I’ve been doing for the past hour. Plus, Adam sent him. Adam wouldn’t fuck around with this party; he knows what it means to me to get everything right for Nat and Ben.

  I can trust Adam.

  I do trust Adam.

  “Unclench your little fists and run along,” Zeke says.

  I glance at the door and back to him. “Five minutes,” I promise, speaking mostly to myself. Then I run.

  It’s more like ten, but when I get back, a miracle has occurred. Zeke has the projector and the sound system going, and photos of Nat are flashing across the screen while her favorite songs play. I’m so relieved that I plop down on the floor in front of the table, dropping the bag with my precious sandwich.

  “You are a god among men,” I tell Zeke, who is tapping away at his phone and smiling. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He jumps up and drops his phone in his pocket. “I do have one question for you, though.”

  My “what” comes out more like “raghr?” because I’m inhaling my sandwich, but he gets the idea.

  “Why did you order dick balloons? And who the fuck is Tad?”

  Fun fact: Zeke is also the Batman of the Heimlich Maneuver if you happen to choke on a sandwich.

  It’s all worth it when Nat walks into the room that night, though. Ben takes her out for an early dinner first, or at least that’s what he claims…but they probably just ordered room service and indulged in some pre-party games of their own. Either way, everyone is in position when they come through the door.

  The slide with a huge blown-up cover of her book is on the screen, and Zeke went through three Sharpies changing Tad into Tag on every single balloon, which is kind of appropriate since it’s her book’s birthday and all. He even changed the penises into cute cartoon characters and built an arch out of Pringles cans for Nat to walk through when she makes her grand entrance. Then he looked at his phone, gave me a wave, and disappeared back to the Bat Cave.

  (Or Autumn’s vagina. Whatever the kids are calling it these days.)

  Adam slips into the room a few minutes before Ben texts me that he and Nat are on their way. His face is drawn and the bags under his eyes make me vow that tonight there will be less boning and more sleeping in our hotel room. He looks smaller somehow, like he’s folding in on himself, his shoulders and chest less broad than they were even a few days ago.

  But he greets me with a Valentine’s Day kiss that makes my mother get embarrassed and gulp her champagne too fast, then settles behind me with his hands around my waist.

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispers. “Nat’s going to love it. Relax, sweetheart.”

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen until this night is over, but I appreciate the effort almost as much as I appreciate being able to lean back and let him hold me up.

  I have no idea what Ben told Nat she was walking into, but her face when she sees her book’s cover on the big screen makes me pull out the tissues I stuffed into my bra earlier. Her mouth falls open and she looks from the picture to Ben, then searches the crowd for me and starts sobbing when our eyes meet. This, of course, sets off my mother, but for once Ben doesn’t react to the tears of the women he loves by running away.

  Instead, he drops down to one knee in front of Natalie and pulls out a little blue box.

  My mom screams and everyone has their phones out, so I’m sure this moment is being beamed around the world, but I block everything out except for my brother and my best friend. Ben waits patiently for all the hoopla to die down, and when it’s finally silent, he starts to speak.

  “I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you today,” he says. “Your book is amazing, and I can’t wait to see your name in lights. You worked so, so hard to get to this moment, and I know you probably never pictured celebrating your big day on the other side of the world, away from your friends and your publisher and your family. I really appreciate you giving up your launch plans to be here to support me, and I want you to know that I don’t take it lightly.”

  He stops and glances around, and his eyes go baby-cartoon-animal wide, like he just realized he’s having one of the most intimate moments of his life in front of approximately two hundred people and their cell phones. He swallows hard and all of a sudden I’m no longer looking at the world champion who can walk into any room with quiet confidence and an easy grin. All I can see is the kid who used to sleep across the hall from me and put frogs in my bed and who made me sit up all night with him while he rehearsed what he was going to say to Mom and Dad after he decided he wanted to quit regular school and snowboard full-time.

  “My baby,” my mom sobs next to me, and I grab her hand.

  Ben looks back up at Natalie, and she reaches down and pushes back the hair that always falls over his forehead, no matter how he cuts or styles it.

  “I know there are many future book launches in your future,” Ben continues. “And I want to be there for all of them. But I also want to be there to hold your hand on the days when the words won’t come. I want to go out and buy your favorite chips to keep you going when the words are coming so fast that you don’t have time to eat anything else. I want to be there to celebrate with you when you type The End on every single draft. I just want to be there, with you, wherever you are, for the rest of our lives. I love you, Natalie. Will you marry me?”

  I have to let go of my mom’s hand to mop my tears, which is weird, because I never cry like this. But the light in Natalie’s eyes, the perfect peace and trust shining from her face when she looks at my brother and tells him yes in a quiet voice, is killing me. Two of the people I love most in the world are getting their happily ever after right in front of me, and it must fill my brain with love rainbow unicorn magic or something, because all my doubts about the future disappear.

  I love Adam.

  Adam loves me.

  It’s Valentine’s Day.

  There has to be a way for us to be together, and the first step is suddenly obvious. Sure, Adam may be struggling a little, but he’s kicking ass out there every day.

  Ben slides the ring onto Nat’s finger, the room erupts with cheers and applause, and I turn around to face Adam and finally say the words that have been pushing to get out for weeks.

  “The Olympics aren’t enough. I love you and I want to be with you. Come with me to Europe. Move back to Colorado.”

  22

  Adam

  I stare at Piper, sure I didn’t hear her right. Because she couldn’t have just said what I thought she said. It’s impossible.

  “Come with me. Just try, Adam. We can meet in Paris after my internship finishes and then head back home. What do you have to lose?” Her voice is getting louder and more urgent, and I look around, checking to see if we’re drawing any attention. The last thing I need is to end up starring on YouTube as the couple fighting at her brother’s engagement party.

  Breaking up at her brother’s engagement party.

  Except we can’t really break up, because we’re not really together.

  Just keep telling yourself that, Skippy. Say it as many times as you want. Doesn’t make it true.

  Everyone’s eyes—and phones—seem to be on the happy couple, something that Ben is going to absolutely fucking hate when it’s playing on network television tomorr
ow. Nobody is paying any attention to us, so I grab Piper’s hand and tug her out into the hallway. The doors close and the happy noise from the party fades, leaving us staring at each other.

  She looks beautiful, her hair in sleek waves down her back and her lips shining with some kind of gloss that tastes like berry-flavored dreams. Her deep-blue dress makes her eyes darker than usual, especially since right now they’re wide open and wild, like she can’t quite believe what’s happening.

  That makes two of us.

  Fuck. I’m already exhausted after a day of watching riders practice in the half-pipe. Gabe and I checked out every single competitor, making copious notes about what we’re going talk about when the event starts. The half-pipe is the crown jewel of Olympic snowboarding, the event that draws the biggest audience by far, and Gabe really wanted to be prepared.

  Then we interviewed them all, which was fine except that everybody apart from Ben gave me the “when will we see you out there again?” question that I still can’t answer. I know the correct response, hell—the only possible response—is never, but I can’t make myself say it. Maybe I’m still too chickenshit to admit the reality of my situation. Maybe I can’t stand the idea of seeing my own disappointment echoed over and over on their faces—of having to repeat “it’s okay though…” again and again when it isn’t fucking okay at all. So the words die someplace in my throat, choking me up until all I can do is smile and shrug, which seems to satisfy whoever I’m talking to but leaves a sour feeling of failure in my gut.

  I thought I was making some progress after finishing up the slopestyle competition and finally facing up to the pipe, so flailing around out there today was a kick in the teeth. All I want to do is crawl into bed, sleep, and hope like hell I dream of summer. I am in no fucking shape to be discussing this with Piper, but I guess I don’t have a choice.