“It’s been six years,” I reminded him. “So much has changed.” And so much hadn’t. Sawyer still smelled so damn good. He was still familiar and so comfortable to talk to. It was like slipping on a favorite sweater, but now I wanted to do a lot more with that sweater than just cuddle.
“I’m still Sawyer and you’re still Silver, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know…” Was I the same girl I had been six years ago?
“Then we’ll take things as slow as you want,” he suggested. “We have all week to get to know each other again.” His voice dropped as he added, “On every level.”
My heart agreed with his words, but my body yearned to knock him over, throw itself at him, and continue where it was so rudely interrupted by my freaking brain. “Then I propose we keep all future hangouts contained to extremely public areas,” I said.
His eyebrow ring shot up and his naughty grin reappeared. “You really think that I’ll be able to restrain myself around you in public?”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
Deep down, the rebellious part of my psyche hoped he wouldn’t.
CHAPTER SIX
“I think we should all snowboard,” Maddie said as we neared the rental shop at Blackcomb Daylodge. We had decided to start off at Blackcomb Mountain because Adam was going to ride its famed Horstman Glacier run.
I sighed. “I don’t know, Mads.” I could already see it in my mind: Me at the top of a hill, my knees weak from terror, trying to gain balance on a board that had a life of its own. Then tumbling and falling…maybe even breaking my neck.
For me, snowboarding and failure went hand in hand. I’d tried to conquer my fear of it numerous times before, and the only thing I’d succeeded in was getting various bruises on my knees, butt, and the heels of my hands. Snowboards and I just didn’t get along. Every time I strapped my boots into the bindings, I felt like I was giving up control. Facing a downward slope of a hill as both of my feet were bound to a board made me feel completely and utterly helpless. On skis, perhaps simply because I’d started lessons when I was very young, I could at least feel somewhat in charge.
“Come on, Dee,” Maddie coaxed. “This is our crazy anything-goes vacation. I even managed to talk your brother into being Adventurous Adam for the next two days. He’s gonna conquer a glacier!”
Adam chuckled. “Funny you should say that,” he said, flashing his phone at us. “Mom just sent a text to remind me to keep away from all black diamond runs.”
“My jacket pocket just buzzed too,” I groaned. “Can’t wait to see what my friendly reminder of the day says.”
Adam read the second text. “She kindly suggested I stick to the bunny hills.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “God forbid something happened to her prized piglets.”
“If we’re going to snowboard, not even a bunny hill can save my ass,” I said. “I need an ant hill.”
“Does that mean you’re in?” Maddie asked hopefully. “You’re gonna live a little, Dee?”
My mom’s texts set my teeth on edge. Even though I was in another country, she still had a way of worming herself into my life and trying to control it. Her behavior was nothing new. While I was away at Stanford, I’d gotten daily texts advising me to study hard, stay away from parties, and even remember to floss. I could’ve dealt with the messages if they happened to be usual parental care reminders, but what she did was constant and overbearing.
I was suddenly eager to do something I knew she wouldn’t approve of, so I made up my mind about snowboarding. I was going to rebel. Sure, my mother would never know what I was doing, but it felt good to stand up to her—at least in my head. I just hoped that I wasn’t going to die in the process of exploring this newfound courage.
“I’m in,” I said. “We’re going snowboarding!”
By the time we’d finished getting fitted for the boots and boards that would be ours for the week and purchased our chairlift tickets, it was almost ten-thirty in the morning. Since it was a warm January day—and a Saturday at that—the rental place and the hills were swarming with excited skiers, snowboarders, and snowskaters. Maddie and I decided to sign up for full-day snowboarding lesson with a private instructor, as there was no way that Adam could teach us both at the same time. For his sanity and our safety, we had to go with a professional.
Maddie pouted when it was time to part with my brother. I was pretty certain that she’d envisioned the two of them snuggling in the chairlift as they played footsies with their snowboards. Thankfully, this arrangement ensured that I didn’t have to bear witness to that. She brightened slightly when she found out that our instructor Connor was a twenty-five-year-old Australian with sandy blonde hair, a seductive grin, and dimples. I, on the other hand, had only one guy on my mind.
Ever since our kiss—okay, more than kiss—I couldn’t get Sawyer out of my head. It wasn’t just the steamy pool session that had me riled up, though there was no denying that it had been the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. It was the very fact that he was here.
Right now.
He was back in my life, if only for a brief moment in time, and I was freaking out. I was also slightly ashamed to admit that Preston hadn’t even crossed my mind the entire time I’d been with Sawyer. But then again, Preston rarely crossed my mind and I was certain that I never made any appearance in his thoughts. Which was fine with me.
My brain was too busy trying to figure out what to do with Sawyer. My body already knew what it wanted to do with him, but there was no way that I was going to allow myself to succumb to a crazy bout of passion the way I had last night.
I had no idea what had come over me, but I had almost pleaded with him to not stop and just have his way with me—right there in the pool. Maybe Maddie was right…two years of a sexless relationship could cause a girl to lose her marbles.
But I knew it wasn’t just the lack of sex that had me craving Sawyer. I wasn’t some romance novel heroine who was unable to keep my legs closed as I drooled over anything with a pulse. No other guy had ever made me have such a reaction—such an instantaneous need to be close, together, one.
The sexy Australian in front of me was doing absolutely nothing for me. Neither my brain, nor my heart, nor other more naughty organs experienced the slightest reaction to him. He was a very attractive male specimen, but I had no desire to throw him in a pool and rip off his shirt.
Clearly my attraction to Sawyer couldn’t be explained by the fact that I’d been deprived of contact for so long. It was much more complicated. We had a history—our lives had been woven together long before I even knew that sexual desires even existed.
Though I now definitely had an irresistible, magnetic pull toward him—a very strong one at that—I didn’t just want his body. I craved his mind. I wanted everything he had to offer. I needed to listen to his words, to touch his hands, to taste his lips, to be close to him again.
It was him. Just him. All of him.
“Are you ready to side-slip down the hill on your own?” Connor asked, forcing me to press a mental pause button on my thoughts about Sawyer.
Next to me, Maddie let out a small, barely audible sigh. She had a thing for accents; I was pretty sure that part of her wanderlust was based purely on accentlust.
“We’ll start with your heel edge,” he instructed as he boarded halfway down the green beginners’ slope. “Okay, now…slow and steady.” The poor guy had no idea that this would further excite Maddie.
She winked at me. “I’d like him to say that to me under the sheets. Or better yet, fast and hard.” Her attempt at whispering failed miserably. I was pretty sure our Aussie was turning a bright crimson under those goggles.
I groaned. “Do you ever turn off?” I asked her. “And yes, I meant that exactly how it sounded.”
Maddie grinned. “Men think about sex every seven seconds. Why shouldn’t women do the same?”
“Because we have better things to do,” I offered.
&n
bsp; Like thinking about Sawyer Carter every two seconds.
Maddie could have her sexy thoughts. I would much rather reminisce about my kiss with Sawyer.
Now sex with Sawyer…
Oh, shit!
Mind, please focus on not meeting an untimely death!
I did well on the side-slipping, slowly gliding on one of my edges while the snowboard behaved and stayed parallel with the bottom of the hill. When Connor suggested that we try to turn, I immediately panicked and began to lose all sense of control. My muscles stiffened and I lost my ability to breathe. As a result, my knees locked and I fell flat on my butt.
First bruise of the day.
I knew, without a doubt, that I would be covered in them by the end of our session.
Maddie, my fearless and free bestie was flying down the hill and already beginning to link her turns. A cold sense of disappointment washed over me, chilling me to the bone. I’d always had weird hang-ups about control. I wasn’t a certifiable control freak, per se, though sometimes a little bit of OCD would slip through. Nothing diagnosable, just a need for order on bookshelves, the necessity for exact change at coffee shops, and the inability to skip over a single word while reading study notes and textbook chapters before an exam.
But it was more than fear of losing control that had me so locked up. I was afraid that letting go would lead to making mistakes. I didn’t have to be a shrink to know where that panic came from. My parents had embedded me with a need for perfection. They demanded good grades and perfect behavior, but that wasn’t even the biggest issue. They had planted a little seed of doubt within my mind when I was a little girl and had watered it throughout my life. Nothing had ever been good enough for their daughter—no toy, no book, no friend—and the more perfect they thought I was, the harder I strained to attain this perfect image they had of me.
However, I had been far from a perfect child and I was far from perfect now. I liked animals and had begged Santa for a dog every year; my mother thought all pets were harbingers of disease, dirty carpets, and house destruction. I preferred Rock and even Pop music to my father’s Classical collection. Hell, I had liked playing in the mud and splashing in rainbow-filled puddles after a rainy day. I wanted to be a photographer—not a doctor. I yearned for spontaneity and freedom, especially in relationships.
I didn’t like pretty guys named Preston; I was much more drawn to dark and unpredictable Sawyers. Okay, one Sawyer. And as I tried to maintain my balance and complete one turn without falling for the hundredth time today, my mind shifted to the day that Sawyer tried to teach me to lose a little control.
“Bend your knees!” Sawyer’s shouts cut through the cold air. He’s standing at the top of a small slope, watching me head straight for snowy doom. “Get low!”
My snowboard doesn’t want to cooperate with my shaking body. The cursed object has a mind of its own and currently it’s stuck in a “way too fast” mode.
“Turn. Now…now, Silver! Turn!”
I stick my arms out, flapping my hands in the air in search of balance. But all that does is help me gain more speed as I soar down the hill.
“Look where you want to go!” My brain hears the directions clearly, but my body can’t seem to follow them.
Crap…crap…crap! I’m gonna die!
At least we’re the only ones on the hill. Sawyer is teaching at the snowboarding school and has a key to the lift. We had snuck onto the premises after hours, so I don’t have to worry about anyone else witnessing my embarrassing demise. What fifteen-year-old looks this lost on a board? Shouldn’t I be feeling cool and rebellious?
“Transfer your weight from your back edge to your front edge! You can do it!”
Back edge? Front edge? I’m not in control of either edge! The waxy bottom of the board is perfectly flat, flush against the snow. I’m struggling to slow down and gain control.
“Toes! Toes! Toes!” Sawyer is shouting. “Turn, Silver! Turn!”
I can’t…I can’t…I can’t!
“Watch out!”
I shut my eyes and hold my breath as my toe edge connects with a rough patch of snow, sending me tumbling forward. My hands break my fall and a painful jolt rocks my entire body.
Sawyer carves down the hill and is kneeling by my side before I can even get up.
“Are you okay?” A look of genuine concern flashes in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”
I’m hurt. And mortified. And I’m pissed off that I, once again, allowed myself to lose all control of the situation.
I massage the stinging in my left wrist. “I’ll live.”
“You have to relax, Silver,” he says, brushing off some powdery snow from my jacket.
“Easier said than done, Sawyer,” I grumble.
“When I’m riding, I feel free. Don’t you feel that?”
“No,” I tell him honestly. “I feel like I’m going to die.”
My parents see fear as a weakness, so I hide it around them. With Sawyer, I’m not afraid to speak my mind. As mortifying as it may be…I don’t mind admitting that I’m scared.
He undoes his bindings and secures his board by sticking its edge into the snow. “Get up,” he says and holds both hands out to me. He’s wearing the black Burton gloves I got him for Christmas this year. He pulls me up in one smooth move. My board begins to slide, so he puts out his foot to stop it. He then spins me around so that I’m parallel with the bottom of the hill.
“Put your weight on your heels. I’ve got you.” He keeps his grip on my left hand, but slides his right one to my hip. The power of his touch shocks me.
“Okay. Now, slowly…I’m going to guide you down. At ninety degrees I want you to switch the weight to your toes and move your hips up.”
I’m trying to obey his instructions, but even through all the layers of fabric, I feel a slight tingle on my skin from his touch.
“Good, Silver…Now toes!”
I complete the turn! I actually do it!
“Awesome job!” he says and laughs. “Are you ready to turn the other way?”
“Only if you keep holding on to me,” I whisper, then immediately want to kick my brain’s butt. Hopefully Sawyer hadn’t noticed the double innuendo in my words. I can be brave and honest about most things, but there is no way that he can know about my feelings for him. I can’t risk our friendship for something as silly as a crush. A strong, inexplicable crush on a hot, sweet, kind, amazing friend.
“Are you ready?” he asks, snapping me back to reality.
I take a deep breath and nod.
“We’re going to do the same thing we did before, just opposite sides this time. Start on your toes and then shift your weight to your heels. Ready?”
I take a deep breath. “Ready.” I trust him. I trust him with my whole heart. And with my body.
Within minutes, I’m turning from side to side. What’s even better is that Sawyer never lets go of me for a second. I’m slowly gaining confidence and feeling that slight sense of freedom he always boasts about.
Then it all comes crashing down as I hit an icy patch and plummet, bringing Sawyer down with me. We collapse in a laughing fit, me on my back with my legs bound, him directly on top of me.
“This is why I insist that you wear a helmet,” he says, tapping the hard gear on my head.
He never wears any kind of protection. Right now, he’s just sporting his usual gray hoodie, gloves, and a black hat. Even in the dimness of the night I can see that his cheeks are flushed from the frosty wind.
“At least I didn’t hurt you this time,” I say. Last winter—the last time Sawyer had attempted to teach me to snowboard—I plowed into him so hard that I split his lip open.
“You’re the only girl whose touch will be permanently tattooed on my mouth,” he points to the scar in the center of his bottom lip. Suddenly I’m melting. The snow below me is freezing cold, but my body temperature is soaring, threatening to set me on fire from the inside.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth
and hold my breath as he shifts his weight off me.
He rolls over, placing the left side of his body flush against my right. “Adam told me I’m not allowed to come out here with you ever again,” he says. “He’s threatening to tell your parents that we’re hanging out.”
I shrug. “Yeah, well…”
“You know that they’ll murder me if anything bad happens to you, right?”
“Trust me, they’ll also murder me if anything bad happens to me,” I tell him.
He laughs again and props himself up on his elbow to face me. Wisps of dark hair that were previously covering the side of his face shift, revealing a deep cut running from the side of his temple all the way into the area covered by his hat.
I immediately shoot up into a sitting position. “Sawyer!” Before he can stop me, I’m taking off his hat. “What’s this?”
He jerks his head back and pulls down the hat.
“What happened?”
His jaw clenches. “Do you even have to ask?”
“I thought you said that you were done fighting with him.”
“Asshole slapped Lyla,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “So I broke his jaw. That pissed him off. I guess he wasn’t counting on the fact that his son was going to grow up one day.”
“Is this what you call growing up?” I peel of his hat, wincing at the red gash. “Your eyebrow is split in half.”
“Yeah, well…” he shrugs. “I was thinking about getting a piercing anyway. It’ll help hide the scar.”
“Did you call the police?”
“The police aren’t going to do shit anymore. Even they’re tired of the fact that my mom keeps inviting him back into the house. I think they’ve given up on her. I’m starting to give up on her too. She says she can’t leave him, but one day I swear he’ll be the death of her. Plus, I don’t want Children’s Aid to come by and threaten to take Lyla again.”
“You need to get out of that place.” This is a conversation we have on a weekly basis.
“And leave my sister alone with those two?” he scoffed. “Sometimes I think my mom is worse than him because she refuses to get out and let him rot in hell like he deserves.”
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