Those Nights in Montreal

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Those Nights in Montreal Page 8

by Beverley Kendall


  I shrug. “Not sure. Was going to ask you what you have planned.” I was thinking that either I can go home with her or we can both stay here and hang out. We’re both carrying full course loads and she works at the library three days a week so we don’t get to see each other as much as I want.

  A small smile plays over her lips. For a moment, I lose my train of thought watching them, remembering the last time I tasted them. “Zach suggested we all go up to Canada. Montreal. He says the skiing is pretty good up there.”

  My brows go up. Canada? Montreal? Not a place that instantly comes to mind when we’re talking travel destinations but it makes sense. Especially because it’s so close. “Are you asking me to go because I know the “we” you’re talking about didn’t include me.” Zach may have saved my ass but I’m not sure our relationship—such as it is—has progressed to the point where he’s inviting me to spend mid-term break with him and his friends.

  “Yes, I am asking if you want to go. Only, it’s not going to change our situation. We’re still not—well you know.”

  Right. No sex.

  “Yeah, I got ya,” I say nodding.

  “Zach’s brother leases a place near a ski resort and he’s not going to be able to use it this year so…”

  I’m not a Cowboy fan but I love the game and Zach’s brother is good. I mean like Steve Young, Troy Aikman, Brett Favre good. Better actually. The guy’s a football god. Everyone who’s worked with him says he’s also a great guy. Maybe that’s why Zach used to be such a dick. Look what he has to live up to.

  Do I want to spend my vacation at his place with my super-hot girlfriend who I’m crazy about? Yeah. I think I could work with that.

  “Sure I’ll go.” I say with a casual shrug.

  Hell yeah, I wanna go. Sex or no sex, vacation with Becca is all good.

  She flashes a smile of relief as if me saying yes had been in question. “Great, now they’ll be six of us and I won’t be the odd girl out—so to speak,” she says with a laugh.

  Huh? She invited me along to even the numbers? I can’t tell you how well that’s not sitting with me. And by the guilty look on her face, I’m an easy read.

  “Okay, that didn’t come out right. I do want you there and I wanted to go but it’ll be Olivia and Zach, and April and Troy so…”

  “Hold up, I didn’t know April and Troy were a couple.” Though to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me. April is hot as hell and Troy would be an idiot if he kept things with her strictly in the friend zone.

  “They’re not.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Then I don’t get it.”

  “They’re not a couple but they’ve been friends for like a billion years. Believe me if the five of us went, I’d be the third wheel.”

  “Well, I’m glad to have two purposes—one as your boyfriend and the guy who evens the numbers.”

  She makes a face at me, teasing. I can’t help but smile in return. It seems like forever since she’s been this playful. I’m encouraged that we might finally be getting back to that place we were before the pregnancy scare. Before I fucked things up.

  “The chalet is paid for but we’ll have to pay for our own food, transportation and ski rentals. It has four bedrooms, so either you and Troy will have to share a room or me and April. I say we flip for it.”

  “Or what if we shared a room?”

  Becca’s blue eyes go wide. After recovering from a moment of shock, she shakes her head, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile. “Uh no. I don’t see that working.”

  I lean across the table until our faces are inches apart. “Why not, it’s not like we’ve never slept together before.”

  Heat flares in her eyes as her gaze drops briefly to my mouth. Licking her lips, she replies, “Yeah, but that was before.”

  “Scared you won’t be able to resist me?” I tease but I’m serious as a heart attack.

  Indignation flashes in her eyes and she falls neatly into my trap. “No,” she snaps. “Actually I’m more worried about you.”

  This is too easy.

  Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms over my chest “Hey, you don’t need to worry about me. I can keep my hands to myself.” Just barely.

  “Yeah right. But if I—”

  “If you gave me the go ahead, of course I wouldn’t turn you down. I’m not crazy. But have I crossed the line yet? Even once?” Technically no. But we’ve both been dancing on the line the last few weeks. And I know it. The fact that she won’t look me in the eye tells me she knows it too.

  “Scott…”

  I can tell she’s going to try to appeal to my logical self. I’m not sure I have that much logic when it comes to her.

  Scooting up in the chair, I grab both her hands in mine and stare deep into her eyes. “Listen, you know I’d never force you. And I know you’d never force me.” This elicits a reluctant laugh from her. “No seriously, it’s just sleeping. If you say no sex then we’ll only be sleeping. And if you really don’t think we can handle it, then why the hell are we still denying ourselves something we both want?”

  From her expression, I can see her weakening.

  “Let’s try it for one night. If we can’t do it, then I’ll share a room with Troy or sleep on the sofa. I’m sure the place has one of those, right?”

  It feels like forever before she finally responds. “Okay, we’ll try it for one night.”

  I don’t even know how tense I am until I feel the muscles in my shoulders unclench. One night. It’s more than I have now. Thank God we’ll be spending five of them in Montreal.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  REBECCA

  Not for the umpteenth time, I really have to question my judgment. I’m firmly convinced I have to be a teeny bit insane to have agreed to share a room with my boyfriend with the caveat that sex is not on the table. It seems there is no end to the amount of torture I’m willing to put myself through. And mark my words, this will definitely be its own brand of sexual torture.

  My problem is that I’ve always had a really hard time saying no to Scott. As my mother can attest, I’m stubborn as a mule and I have a hard time turning down a challenge. And that’s exactly how I took it when Scott presented it to me last week; as a challenge. A double dare you. Yeah, I know that sounds childish but sometimes that’s me.

  I look around the chalet in a suspended state of awe as Scott, Zach and Troy cart in the luggage. So this is how the other half lives. Nice. Very nice. Vaulted, wood-beamed ceilings in the main living area and a stone fireplace. The place has the open floor concept I’ve always loved but never had. The kitchen gleams from the black-and-white speckled countertops, which looks like granite or is a good imitation, to the gunmetal appliances. Large rugs cover hardwood floors in the living area and a knotty wood table that seats four sits in the small nook off the kitchen.

  “Man, does it ever pay to be friends with you.” Troy lets out a low whistle of appreciation. Dropping two leather duffel bags in the hall, he takes in the place.

  “Seriously, Troy?” April says, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be crass.”

  “I’m just joking so take it easy.”

  Instead of taking two cars, we ended up renting an SUV that could comfortably hold all of us and if you think April and Troy are sniping at each other now, imagine five hours of that. This is what happens when best friends have sex.

  “Come on, let’s get these bags to the rooms,” says Zach gesturing toward the stairs.

  Scott looks at me and something unfathomable flickers in his eyes. He thinks I’m going to change my mind. I’m not.

  With Zach leading the way, we all troop up to the second floor behind him. Ten minutes later we have the room situation all ironed out. Naturally, Olivia and Zach get the master suite and Scott and I get the second largest room. Olivia and April know Scott and I aren’t having sex but I’m pretty sure the guys don’t know—Olivia swears she hasn’t said anything about it to Zach. My roommates think we’ll cave. Correction, th
at I’ll cave despite my stalwart denial. “We’ll see,” April had purred with a knowing smirk. This is the pressure I’m now under.

  “This is nice,” Scott announces from the foot of the queen-sized bed.

  “Yeah it is.” I’m nervous. It’s been a while—thirty-two days not that I’m counting—since we’ve been alone in a room together…with a bed. The intimacy of it does not escape me.

  “You still prefer the right side?” His question is casual, like it’s a common occurrence for us to be discussing which side of the same bed we’ll be sleeping on.

  I let out a short laugh. “You seem to forget that it was you who insisted on sleeping on the left side. I took what was left.”

  Flashing me a wickedly sexy smile, he replies softly, “What I do remember is you underneath me and me under you. I don’t think either of us minded where we ended up sleeping.”

  A shock of lust courses through me to settle in my core. My face heats to what feels like nine hundred degrees. I get the first hint of the extent of temptation I’ll be dealing with. In a word, I’m toast.

  SCOTT

  Since we arrived at the house—or chalet as the girls insists on calling it—early that afternoon, we still have a good four or five hours of sunlight left. And no one wants to waste the near-perfect weather conditions and fresh powder, so after settling in and grabbing something to eat, we head to the slopes.

  It’s funny but no one asked me if I knew how to ski. The answer to that is, I do. Just not well. Let’s just say I can stand without falling and I do okay as long as there aren’t any hills around. My family spent a couple winter vacations in Vail but I’m definitely more a beach and surf guy. But it looks like I’m in good company because except for Zach and Olivia, we’re all novices. Which could be the reason no one asked.

  The ski resort is a large, stone-faced, timber framed structure set atop a mountain, its backdrop a forest of towering pine trees. Shortly after we arrive, Becca’s back to normal, smiling, laughing and looking so beautiful in a matching hot-pink ski jacket and pants, I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from pouncing on her.

  It had taken her a good half hour to come back from what I said to her in the room. Talk about blushing down to the roots. But I could tell she’d been turned on. For a second, I thought she’d renege and put a kibosh on the whole sharing a room thing but she didn’t. Thank God.

  After we get our gear, Zach and Olivia go off to ski with the “adults” while the rest of us follow the instructor over to the kiddie slopes.

  I’m not as inept as I was the last time my dad attempted to teach me to ski, which was seven years ago. And for a novice, I gotta say, Becca is pretty good. A natural, the too blond, totally stereotypical Norwegian-looking instructor announces. I swear to God, if he puts his hands on her one more time, I’m going to kick his ass. And if I think he’s being too familiar with my girlfriend, the way he’s all over April gives instructing a whole new meaning. I honestly think Troy is about to blow a gasket the way he’s watching him, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts.

  Huh! And Becca says there’s nothing going on between the two of them. Yeah, right. And pigs fly. Tell that to the blind mute with the glass eye.

  The hour of instruction is over before we know it, concluding with only a couple of minor spills. After that, we are let go to conquer the baby hills on our own. It seems natural enough for us to break off into pairs, me and Becca, an irked Troy and a flushed April.

  I don’t know Troy all that well, but he seems to be a pretty cool guy. Before today, he’d always come across as easy-going and confident. I glance over at April. She’s wearing a white ski jacket and white-and-blue ski pants that showcase her long legs. She’s beautiful in an obvious way—not that that’s a bad thing. Perfect features, hair with the right amount of curl but it’s her eyes that get you. The contrast between her complexion and those green eyes is stunning. She’s the perfect combination of her biracial makeup. It’s no wonder Troy has a thing for her.

  But as beautiful as she is, Becca is hotter. Sexier. As she starts off in front of me, I’m mesmerized by her ass in her ski pants. Pushing off awkwardly because of the lack of traction my skis are getting on the icy patch of snow, I ski after her. I don’t know about school holidays in Canada but I’m thinking they must not coincide with ours because the slopes aren’t crowded. Which is a good thing.

  Due to my strength and longer strides, I quickly catch up with Becca. Cheeks flushed pink, she glances over at me and smiles, a smile I feel in my chest and my crotch. I smile back. “You having a good time?”

  “Fabulous. Aren’t you?”

  Mental note, take Becca skiing when possible. I can figure out how the hell I’ll pay for it when the time comes. Despite my parents’ wealth, I don’t have an endless supply of money at my disposal.

  I nod.

  We ski along for a bit and when I finally look back, we’re a good distance from the lodge. April and Troy are off to our left, out of earshot but still within shouting distance.

  Becca’s breathing is short and choppy by the time she slides inelegantly to a stop. I quickly follow suit.

  “You tired? You wanna head back?” I ask nodding toward the lodge.

  Breathing heavily, she plants her poles firmly in the snow. “Give me a minute. I didn’t realize how out of shape I am.” She purses her mouth in a pout. “I hate you. You’re not even out of breath.”

  I chuckle. “Good genes.”

  “More like ten laps at the swimming pool five times a week.”

  “Yeah, there’s that too.”

  “I wanted to ask you how things are going with Zach. I noticed that you guys seem to be getting along,” she says looking both expectant and quietly pleased.

  “We’re cool. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t despise me anymore.” Seriously, Zach’s a cool guy and now that I’m getting to know him better I can actually see us hanging out. We may never be like him and Troy or me and Clint. Compadres. Amis. Buds. But we’re definitely getting along.

  Her shoulders drop in relief and a sigh whispers into the cold air. “Good. Good. I hoped but I wasn’t sure.”

  I stifle a smile. Becca’s a regular worrywart.

  “One other thing.” Her voice has grown tentative, which immediately puts me on guard.

  “About us sharing a room...”

  Oh fuck.

  “…I think it would be a bad idea to, you know, fool around in the room.” She’s not looking directly at me when she finally manages to spit it out.

  It’s only when I don’t respond that she looks at me from under veiled eyes.

  She’s got to be fuckin’ kidding me.

  “I think it would just make the whole sleeping together thing easier, ya know.”

  No I don’t know. Hell, won’t it be easier if we forget about sharing a room much less a bed.

  Fuck!

  Of course, I’m not going to say any of this shit to her, so I suck it up and suck it in. Whatever you want.” I’m relieved I manage to sound so nonchalant about it. “Your vacation, your rules.”

  She winces. “Scott.”

  “No, I mean it. I’m the one who insisted we share a room. If fooling around in the room is going to make you uncomfortable, I get that.”

  At her look of skepticism, I insist that I do get it.

  I don’t. I seriously do not.

  Okay, so I’d hoped this trip would help in ending the whole no-sex-until-she’s-ready-to-resume thing. I can be charming. And I know she wants to; that it’s almost as hard for her to hold out as it is for me to not push for more. But not even being able to fool around in the one place we actually have privacy is insane. But she’s dead serious. And by the look she’s giving me, I know she thinks I’m going to fight her on this. Well you know what, I’m not. If no sex means no sex, then she doesn’t need to worry about me putting the moves on her.

  Although again, I’m getting the feeling I’m being tested and it’s really
beginning to irritate the shit out of me.

  “Well good. I’m glad you understand. I just think it’s still too soon for us.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m actually starting to agree with you about that.” My voice is all sincerity.

  Her head literally snaps back and I can see the entire whites of her eyes. I try not to feel too smug about her reaction.

  “Really?” she croaks.

  I smile, feeling immensely satisfied. “Yeah, I do.” No need to elaborate. There’s nothing else to say.

  “W-well then that’s good. I’m, uh, glad we’re both on the same page,” she says weakly.

  Shading my eyes with my gloved hand, I glance up ahead and then over at Becca. “You ready to go or do you still need to rest?”

  A look of consternation flashes across her face. With one final puzzled look at me, her mouth pushes up into a smile. “No I’m good. Let’s go.”

  I’m glad we’re both on the same page.

  She has no idea how much.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  REBECCA

  Scott is now okay with us not having sex? What the hell?

  Yes, I’m a big hypocrite, something I’m only now coming to terms with. A. BIG. FAT. HYPOCRITE.

  I should be happy that I have such an understanding boyfriend but I’m not. Don’t even ask me. I’m a mess. Obviously.

  We came back from the slopes an hour ago and after changing into warm, dry clothes, Scott went downstairs to hang out with the guys. I told him I’d be right down. I need to call my mom. But first I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.

  My cell rings in my hands, interrupting the vigorous racking I’m giving my brain.

  Mom calling.

  Speak of the devil. “Hey, mom.” I force a certain level of perkiness into my voice when I answer.

 

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