by Cari Quinn
God, my head pounds. The remains of my Diet Pepsi and vodka are still on the counter, and I’m about to pour it down the drain. The distilled odor makes my stomach flip, but I figure the hair of the dog and all that. Advil is on the shelf above the sink. The sweet candy coating melts on my tongue before I wash them down with the remaining contents of the can. Coffee splashes into two cups and the spoon clinks as I stir instant creamer and sugar in Jason’s. I take a sip of my black liquid, and the bitter flavor awakens my senses. I manage to hold all three mugs in one hand to climb the ladder.
“Rise and shine,” I say.
Jason sits up and the covers fall to his waist. The faint trail of hair leading under the sheet has me weak. I climb on the bed and hand him his breakfast.
“You’re too good to me.” His sleepy scent makes me want to cuddle under the covers with him.
No, you’re the one that’s too good to me. “So, how long do you think it’ll take for you to plow today?”
“Hmm, I did some last night, so a couple of hours. I’ll have to do them all again later today too. Why?”
“Why? Do you really have to ask that?” I have a huge grin on my face as I think about the fresh powder.
He cocks his head at me with hope. “I thought you were leaving today. Change your mind?”
Crap, I didn’t want to have this discussion again. I’m such an idiot. No, I’m more like a selfish bitch. “Please. I’m still leaving. I just don’t want to drive for twelve hours in this storm. I’m going skiing instead. Want to come?”
“Wait. So what was this?” He spreads his arms out, referring to the bed. Pain clouds his eyes.
I take a deep breath. “Me, not being able to get over you.” I run my fingers through my hair, stalling. “Drinking too much and wanting you so badly, I begged you to come in the middle of the night.” I sigh. “And it’s me being a total bitch because it doesn’t change anything.”
He turns his head away for a moment and then gets out of the bed. He’s hurt. He swaggers a little as he approaches the ladder and says, “I’m damn irresistible.”
As he turns to climb down, I see his grin. On the outside. On the inside? I know what I’m doing to him because I’m also doing it to myself. I hate me for it.
I pull on sweats and climb down into the kitchen to get his thermos ready. A plastic grocery bag rustles as I put a banana, granola bars, and water inside. I reach out to hand it to him and his strong callused hands hold my face. His kiss is tender. “I’ll be back by nine. Be ready.”
The plow hits the ground with a clunk and then scrapes my drive one quick time before he’s gone. Somehow my heart breaks a little bit more. Why does life have to be so damned complicated? I climb up to the loft, strip, and get into bed. I breathe in the smell of our sex-scented sheets and cry myself to sleep.
Chapter Five
A sense of déjà vu hits me when I switch off the alarm. Oh right, I did this three hours ago. My head barely pounds and excitement sets in. It should be an epic day. I whip off the covers, and the salty essence of last night surrounds me. A smile sneaks on my face when I think about Jason. A bit of after-burn in my belly makes me tremble the slightest bit. Good Lord, that boy knows what to do to my body. Naked, I don’t stay warm long. The chill pulls me back to earth. I yank on long underwear, socks, and a turtleneck. I revel in the way they hug my body as I scramble down the ladder. My cold coffee is on the counter. I stick it in the microwave and give the door a satisfying slam. Pushing the buttons, I put it to work. A cold blast of ice and snow stings my face as I set my skis and bag of gear outside. The ding of the microwave tells me my rocket fuel is ready. I pinch open the Advil bottle and shake out two candy-colored pills. I spy the oatmeal. No time. I grab Pop-Tarts and shove them in the pocket of my fleece.
Damn, I have to pee. I shove my arms in the fleece as I enter my tiny bathroom. The seat is cold when I sit down. No time to waste, I reach for a hair elastic to slip on my wrist and a comb for my pocket. Curls everywhere, I don’t bother to tame it now. On my way out, I snag the smooth tin of Nivea cream for my face and slip it in another pocket. My L.L. Bean boots are cold when I slide them on my feet. I hear Jason’s truck and grab my ski pass from the hook. The ball chain catches my hair as I pull it over my head, and I run a quick mental list. Fire. I grab a log and clunk the handle into the round, heavy lid to the woodstove. I throw the wood in without a glance, but hear the angry sparks threaten to burn me as I slam the cover in place. I’m coming home to a cold house tonight, but I don’t have time to deal with it now. If I’m lucky, there will be embers and it won’t take long to get it going.
Out the door with a kick to make sure it automatically locks, I’m ready without a second to spare. My skis clatter as Jason throws them in the back of the truck. The wind whips my hair around into chaos. Pulling a strand out of my mouth I offer, “Want me to drive?”
“I’ve seen your car, Case. No way.” He grins as I climb into the cab. Heat blows through the vent. It would be welcome if I weren’t sweating. Jason sticks his head out his window and looks back. He puts the truck in reverse, and the engine roars with acceleration. “I got you a headlight. We can replace it later.”
“Thanks.” I pull out my comb and begin the taming. This might take a while. The visibility is awful and I’m glad Jason is driving. Once I’m satisfied my hair is snarl-free, I braid it. My stomach clenches its contents. Advil and coffee without food is not a good combination. I find my Pop-Tarts and tear open the foil. “Want one?”
“No. You eat crap.” His brow is furrowed with the focus required for driving in the storm.
“Only on my days off. The food in the restaurant isn’t crap.”
“Not when I’m cooking. But who knows what you eat when I’m not there to feed you.”
“Hey!” I stick a piece of processed pastry in my mouth, frosting side down. The sugary sweetness goes to my bloodstream.
“C’mon. You barely ate yesterday, right?”
“How do you know this stuff? Are you the food police?” Here we go, the your-body-is-a-temple rant.
“I just do.” He sighs. “I care. You aren’t taking care of yourself these days. You’re getting skinny.” His hand reaches over and tweaks my thigh.
I know. I’m a mess without him. But I don’t tell Jason that. I turn away and watch the snow swirl around us. I draw a heart on the fogged-up passenger window. “How much snow do you think we got?”
“Tough to say. The drifts are over six feet in some places.”
Turning forward, I slip my feet out of my boots and tuck a leg under me. “Sweet! We’re going to have fun.” I see Jason give me a quick look. He smells my feet but doesn’t say anything.
I find my Nivea and smear the heavy cream on my face. The greasiness is welcome; it will help keep my skin warm. With a clean finger I flip down the visor and look in the mirror. Satisfied it’s all rubbed in, I snap the visor back in place. I lean back and close my eyes.
“Hungover?”
Kind of. “Nope, just tired. Somebody kept me up last night.” I open one eye and look over at him with a smirk.
He snorts. “I could say the same.”
And just like that, my body heats up. My face flushes and the pit of my belly trembles. I swear, one look from Jason and I want him. I wonder what he would say to a quickie in the parking lot? I smile an evil smile.
“What are you thinking over there? That look scares me.”
“I wonder what you would say to me straddling you for a few minutes when we get to the parking lot.”
He gives me a quick glance to see if I’m serious. “Aren’t you forgetting something important here? You know, like the fact you aren’t my girlfriend and don’t want to be? Jesus, Casey, you dumped me. You can’t have it both ways.” His knuckles are white on the wheel.
He’s pissed. I shove my hands through my hair. Damn it, so much for that braid. “I’m sorry.” I look over at his profile. His mouth is tight. I sure know how to screw things
up.
We don’t say anything. I get my comb and re-braid my hair. I hear the steady beat of the wipers and the angry storm winds. Jason shakes his head. He shifts in his seat and lets out a little sigh. “You’re the horniest girl I know.” Then he gives me a quick glance. There is a mischievous smile on his face. “Maybe.”
Bear Mountain Lot is where the locals park. It’s at the base of a trail called Outer Limits. Expert-only terrain, it’s not a common place for most people to start. It’s also not a good place to have sex. Too many friends know Jason’s truck, and it’s more than likely someone would see us. Exhibitionism is not us.
I hear Jason drop the plow with a heavy clunk and shove snow forward. “You love that thing, don’t you?” I unsnap my seatbelt, turn around and unzip his gear bag. Reaching in, I feel smooth nylon and grab his ski pants. I retrieve mine too.
He lifts the plow and shifts into reverse. “Hey, just letting the inner redneck out.”
“Inner? Look at you. You’ve got the stubble to prove it.” My fingers ache to touch the roughness of his jaw.
He pulls back into the space and parks. Cool fabric slides up my legs as I shimmy into my pants. I slip my boots on and zip up my fleece. I turn back again to grab my jacket, hat, and mittens. Because Jason had to take off his boots, he is just pulling on his pants. I hear the hum of his zipper as I grab his clothing too.
“Wait a minute. I thought you had plans for me?” His smile tells me he’s teasing.
“I did, but the powder is calling. Rain check?” I’m not teasing.
“Sure, but you’re not very good at paying your tab.”
I straddle his lap and take his face in my hands. “I’m here to make a payment,” I say in a soft voice. My lips burn as I nibble his neck and press my hips into his. He hardens instantly. My nipples tingle, and I think about taking him right now. A knock on the window sends me scrambling back to the passenger seat.
Jason lowers his window, and Tony smirks at us as he shakes his head. “Couple ’a rabbits. Nice.”
My face flushes and Jason has a huge grin. “Chicks dig me. It’s the truck.”
Tony is his boss in the summer. He runs a house-building company, and I know he’s aware of our relationship. Considering we broke up last summer, I guess he knows more about me than I’d like.
Tony slaps the truck door. “Have a great day, guys.” He heads toward the lodge.
“He probably hates me.”
Jason raises the window. “He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re stupid for dumping me, but he gets why. And he thinks I’m stupid for that.”
Tony is married and has three kids. He would understand why I want to have children. I sigh. “You are. I know you; you’d make a great father. But you need to want it. You can’t do it for me. I’d be a fool staying with you and thinking you might change.” My eyes tear up. In a shaky voice I say, “But you know all that.” And there we have it. The reason my heart is torn to shreds. Tears brim in my eyes.
He reaches over and takes my hand. “Let’s not do this. We have an awesome day. Let’s enjoy it.”
Chapter Six
I imagine that what we’re doing right now looks insane to everyone but a select few. We sit in the midst of a blizzard on a cold, metal chair. Wind whips around us, and my stomach rolls as the chair sways dangerously from side to side. Sections of metal support poles are covered in snow that looks like sprayed frosting. High above ground that can’t be seen through the storm, there are icicles the size of daggers hang from the bar surrounding us. Tiny bits of ice pelt my jacket with a pricking noise. I see them bounce off Jason’s helmet. Snow has collected in every crease of our clothing. I scrape a section of my goggles with my mitten and look over at Jason. I can’t see his mouth under the fleece fabric he has pulled up, but I know he’s smiling. Huddled together, we preserve our warmth. When we get moving, that won’t be a problem.
Once off the chair, Jason leads the way. He looks for a tree shot. A slightly open section of snow in the trees, it’s a more protected area to ski. The wind is blocked and you have much better visibility. It’s also full of great skiing. The whining wind blows snow off open trails, and it collects in the pockets between trees. They’re spread apart enough for us to weave our way down. Instead of a steady, rhythmic run, it’s more reactive. You turn when and where you can. Over time you learn the section and can take bigger risks. We know this one well.
It’s hard to talk on a day like today, but we don’t need to. We’ve developed a few signals to communicate. But mostly we know each other so well it’s easy to predict our movements.
Dropping into the section, the noise of the storm is instantly muffled. Pine trees droop with the weight of snow and ice. The snow is pristine. No sign of previous skiers, it’s deliciously virgin. My skis slice through and I feel them completely enveloped. I ski the whole ski and not just the bottom. Pressure on the top and sides helps me control speed. Changing planes in a slight up-and-down motion, I’m mesmerized by the floating. My legs burn with the exertion, and my lungs pump oxygen efficiently. Extending my arms one at a time, my poles act as bumpers, and push me back to my center and maintain my balance. My mind is focused on keeping everything working together.
Jason stops and waits for me to catch up. He pulls down his fleece face covering. “Was that amazing, or what?”
I lower my moist fabric. “Epic!”
We’re both breathless and my heart beats hard. My mitten sticks with sweat as I remove it. I unzip my jacket and pull my water bottle out from inside my coat. I suck down a few cool mouthfuls and offer it to Jason. “We need to stay in the trees. This just rocks.”
“Isn’t it beautiful in here, Casey? Listen.”
Wind howls and I realize I can’t hear another soul. I say, “I feel so all alone.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?” He smiles and hands me my water bottle. “The Cliffs?”
I nod my head. “Excellent plan.”
The Cliffs is a section that requires practice and many runs before it flows with ease. Most of the ledges are hidden and need specific tactics. It may be vital to hit the cliff at a certain angle to avoid an obstacle on the other side. Many cliffs can’t be taken without multiple feet of snow cover. Today, we know we can hit them all. I have no doubt we’ll be there for a few runs. Flying off snow-covered rocks is Jason’s favorite thing. Well, one of them.
* * *
After a long ski day, my body is spent. The truck cab heater wraps warmth around me and I’m sleepy. The blizzard lets up, and snow flurries swirl lazily through the air in front of us. Brown slush splashes up from the tires ahead.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Jason looks exhausted. I know he has a couple of hours of plowing to do after he changes my headlight.
“By seven. I only need to load my car. Most things are packed. I’ll do some tonight and finish in the morning.” There is so much I want to say. I want to tell him to lie to me. To tell me he wants babies and holidays and a family. I want him to say he can’t live without me and make it all be okay. I want my heart to stop breaking. Silent tears fall. He knows I’m crying. His strong hand wraps around mine, and we finish the ride in silence.
I slide down onto the ground from the truck, and my thighs moan with the impact. I gather my gear and bring it inside to dry. Setting it down, I hear the familiar clunk of his plow drop to clear the driveway. I grab my keys and go out to move my car. The door lock is covered with ice. I slam it hard with my fist and slide in the key. Sitting, the cold leather of the bucket seat bites through my long underwear and I begin to shiver. Shifting is stiff and my car groans into movement. I don’t want to go. I want to jump into Jason’s warm truck and tell him to take me home. To take me to his bed. We can stay there forever, and all the other things that matter no longer do. Damn it.
I get out of the car and slam the door harder than I need to. I stomp my way over to my apartment like a petulant child. Once inside, I lift the lid to the wood stove and peer at
the fire. There are embers and I blow on them to see a glow. The flue squeaks as I open it all the way. I grab a thinner piece of wood from the pile and stick it in. When I blow again, it catches. Adding more wood, I know it will roar in a few minutes.
I glance out the window to watch Jason work on my headlight. That familiar longing pulls at me. I ache with desire for him. It’s a bone-deep pain, and I don’t think it will ever end. Tears pool in my eyes. I try to make them stop, and my throat hurts with the effort. I bite my lip and let the pain force it to happen. I can fall apart once he’s gone. I just want one last kiss and then I can cry. Forever.
Jason stomps his feet at my doorstep and walks in. The fire cracks and spits. I look into his eyes and run to him. He pulls me in tight. So tight, I almost can’t breathe. He lets go and wipes the tears from my face. His kiss is tender and tugs at my heart. We pull apart slowly, and I say, “Some girl is going to get the most amazing guy on this earth. She can never love you more than I do. But I hope she comes close and makes you happy.” Tears stream and I don’t bother to stop them.
Jason cries too. “I love you, Casey.” He walks out the door. I crumble to the ground in a puddle.
Chapter Seven
By day three of driving, I have no more tears left to cry. I have stored Jason safely in my heart. It’s time to move on. The white lines on the interstate tick by as I drive through Nebraska. I start to form a plan. Moving to Colorado mid ski season will have its challenges. The good jobs are gone, and finding a place to live will be next to impossible. But I have an idea.
Driving into Breckenridge, I stop at the first gas station I see. I breathe in the thin mountain air, which is laced with the mesmerizing smell of petroleum as I fill my tank. I grab a realty magazine and start calling. The third time gets me what I’m looking for. The manager will be in around two.
