* * *
After my episodein the snow yesterday, I’m not too keen on the idea of returning to the bitter cold. But Dean has assured me a ride on the snowmobile is worth the torture of the iciness. And after the heated night between Rosie and I, maybe some fresh mountain air will do me some good.
But after I’ve bundled up in my winter gear and I step out onto the porch, my stomach plummets to the ground and my skin stings with fire. Rosie is sitting on a snowmobile behind Dean, her front pressed into his back and her arms tethered around his waist.
I bite the side of my cheek and scrub my gloved hand over my face. There’s no warrant to my jealousy. Rosie is not mine. Despite the mark that’s still fresh and vibrant across her heart.
Camille climbs onto the back of another snowmobile behind Maverick. There’s an empty one but Jones’s girl leans against it instead of sitting on it.
Dean glances over his shoulder and spots me. “Hey, man, hurry up. We’re waiting on you.”
Stomping toward them, I keep my head down. Even though the image of Dean and Rosie is already burned in my brain. A foul taste forms in my mouth.
Jones’s girl, Sabrina straightens when I approach. “Have you ever driven a snowmobile before?”
“No. But I’ve driven a four-wheeler and I can’t imagine it’s any different.”
“That’s enough for me,” she says, mounting the empty sled and patting the seat in front of her. “C’mon, stranger, you’re with me.”
I flick my attention from her to Dean, as if he’s going to tell me something different. But he doesn’t. Instead, he nods a chin at me in confirmation and hands me a helmet.
“What about Jones?”
“That fool is too hungover,” Sabrina responds with an annoyed scoff.
“He’s missing out. It’s perfect weather for a ride,” Maverick says.
“Yeah, if we hurry up. Let’s go, man.” Dean presents the helmet to me again.
I take it and can’t resist sneaking a glance at Rosie. But with her helmet and goggles on, it’s difficult to read any type of expression on her face. I imagine she’s jealous though. In two seconds time, I’ve conjured up an entire scenario in my mind of Rosie and Sabrina dressed in their sexy Christmas pajamas and wrestling in the snow over me.
“Everything okay?” Sabrina asks.
Spinning around, I clear my throat and stuff the helmet on my head, flipping down the visor. I hop on the snowmobile and Sabrina reaches her hands around to my front. She doesn’t move closer or hold on very tight. It deflates my fantasy from seconds ago, but it does make me respect her feelings for Jones a whole hell of a lot more.
We take off and I follow behind Dean and Maverick brings up the rear. Both of them are familiar with the area so it makes sense to keep me in the middle. We pick up speed and run the sleds along the road that leads to highway for about two miles.
Dean veers off down a side road that looks too narrow for cars. I assume it’s used for mountain patrol sleds to rescue skiers and snowboarders. I stay close behind him.
The sled hits a few bumps, and we swerve around some tall pines, making this a fun ride. Dean whistles and lets out a few hoots and hollers. I smile and chuckle quietly. If I were keeping a list of the positives of living somewhere that got snow, this activity would definitely be on it.
When he takes a sharp turn, I do the same and Sabrina increases her pressure around my waist and lets out a little squeal. My stupid, messed up brain only thinks about how that turn probably made Rosie hold Dean tighter too. My stomach burns and the muscles across my shoulders tense. And all I want is to be done with this ride.
I get tunnel vision, and the only thing I see is Rosie’s perfect ass on the back of that snowmobile. Her, pressing her tits against Dean. Her, squeezing him closer. Her, feeling his chest underneath her hands.
With my blood now boiling, I veer off the path and accelerate. Sabrina shrieks behind me. I drive alongside Dean, and he gives me a dumbfounded look. And then I cut him off, spraying him and Rosie with snow as I get in front.
A satisfied warmth spreads through my body and I puff out my chest.Ha! Take that Designated Dean!
Sabrina shoves me in the back. “You asshole.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I let off on the throttle and when I’m slow enough, I motion for Dean to take the lead again. I am an asshole. An immature asshole. When Dean and Rosie pass me to get in front, I don’t turn to look at her.
After about fifteen minutes of some incline to our trail, Dean slows his sled. He waves for Maverick and me to come alongside of him. I pull up next to him and lift the visor on my helmet.
“What’s up?” Maverick asks before I have a chance to.