Page 16 of Things I Read About
“Pfft.” Kat waves a hand. “It’s just like day skiing. You’ll be okay. You were keeping up with us just fine today. Take your time with wide passes all the way down. And hey, if you faceplant”—she raises an eyebrow—“then he’ll have to help you up.”
“Also, true,” I agree. “Not a very sexy date though. I look like a purple marshmallow in this suit.”
“Hmm, just skip a layer and leave only this cute crop thing underneath, just unzip the top after you’re done skiing.”
“These are arm tights, they’re warm but they’re also totally see through,” I say, pulling at the thick, black panty-hose type material.
“You have a black bra on. In fact, if it were me, I’d leave the bra off, then the see through part would actually be exciting.”
“Right, but you don’t really have any boobs to hold in place do you,” Janie teases.
Janie has a curvy figure like me, but she’s tall, dark and regal.
I am not.
My ski suit is a hand me down from Skye, expensive and warm, and fits okay after altering the legs. But it’s not what I would’ve chosen for myself.
“They’re there, if you really look for them,” Kat jokes.
We laugh and she finishes up my hair. It’s straight and shinier than ever, thanks to the new brunette dye. My light hazel eyes pop out from under my bangs. I feel confident, flirty, maybe even fierce.
The girls give me a quick pep talk about not asking to climb, grip, or lick any of his parts on a first date. They also ramble on about safety and Janie produces a rape whistle out of nowhere. They both calm a bit after insisting I share my location with them. Then, I make my way to the lifts.
I see Nate right away. Because he towers over everyone. Which makes all the blood vessels surrounding my digestive system contract.To have a butterfly in one’s stomach, first recorded use in 1908.
He’s in all black ski clothes, leaning against the outside wall of the log-cabin-looking lift hut. It’s getting dim out now, but I expect him to spot me easily, a neon purple beacon. Instead, he seems to be scanning the entire area. He can’t be looking for me, because I’m in his line of sight. What is he looking for? Who is he looking for? Someone else?
I am about to ask as I reach him, but his deep brown eyes meet mine and my tongue expands three sizes. Or at least that’s how it feels. I can’t really think or move. I can stare though. I can stare all night.
“Hey,” he says, his mouth doing the almost-smirk thing.
“Are you?” I start, remembering Janie’s explicit instructions. “Are you really an assassin? You didn’t correct me.”
His mouth quirks even more. “No, I’m not.”
“What are you?” More quirking. But I need to mentally check these boxes before our date can begin. “For work, I mean, what do you do?”
“I’m a consultant.”
“You don’t look like a consultant,” I say, my voice getting that airy quality again. More nerve contraction in my gut, too.
“So you’ve said.” The hint of a grin is back. It looks… flirty.
We’re flirting.
I’m flirting! What would Samantha say now?
I bite my lip and just go for it. “I like what I see, though.”
He huffs at that, a sound that could almost be a laugh. A half-chuckle maybe. His eyebrow is lifted a tiny bit. I think I surprise him. Which is very fun. Very unlike me. He clears his throat.Whoops, how long have I been staring at said throat?!
“Shall we, doc?” he asks. I murmur something that I hope sounded likesure,and we shuffle to the lifts. We hop onto a chair and settle back for ride the up to the top of the night ski section of the mountain.
“What kind of consultant?” I wonder out loud, looking up at his firm jaw. It has some scruff on it. I very much want to take off my glove and touch him, feel how scratchy he is.
Is that normal?
Probably not.
