Page 23 of Just Shred

I point a finger in his face. “They are beautiful, like the moon.”

He brushes both his hands over his face and groans. “I should get you drunk more. You say the nicest things to me when you’re losing control.”

I cross my arms. “I say nice things to you.”

“Not when we’re on the slope and you are muttering under your breath. Calling me all sorts of names.”

“Well, you deserve it. You do go hard and fast.” I giggle.

He opens his mouth, and his eyebrows hike up.

I put my finger against his lips, trailing the stubble around his mouth, loving the way it tickles my skin. “Do not say anything dirty.”

“I won’t,” he promises, smiling against my finger.

I nod, lying back, like it’s settled, but I keep thinking about all the naughty things he can do to me. And I know I would let him. I haven’t heard from Shane in two days, but why does this feel like I’m cheating, and why does Shane feel like nothing but a distant memory?

I take a deep breath, staring up at the sky. “I’m glad you are sort of my friend.”

“Sort of?” he asks, looking at me.

“Yeah, you helping me, and all that stuff is what friends do.” I look deep into his eyes, hiccupping again.

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Luckily, you have what’s his face, and I—”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

He groans. “Let’s not go there, Ace of Spades.”

“Come on, snowboard guy,” I press, pushing him in his shoulder. “You should get back to the bar. The blonde from a couple of days ago who was talking to her friends looked ready to pounce,” I tease, hitting his shoulder again to underline my point.

He shrugs. “I’m not interested.”

“Dude.” I mimic his deep voice, and he shivers.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You want the truth?”

“It will set you free,” I drawl, and he casts his eye to the sky in response.

“Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t want to have to think about anyone but myself—”

“Self-absorbed much?” I chuckle, staring at the sky, wiping the snow from my hands.

“You wanted to know the truth.”

I pretend I lock my mouth and throw away the key.

“Damn, Ace, I don’t want to have to call or text someone to let them know what I’m up to. I want to pack up and go, not having to think about the consequences of what might happen for the person I love.” He scowls and blows on his hands again.

I dig my boots in the snow, not knowing what to say as I stare at the spinning stars.

“Sounds more depressing when I say it out loud,” he mumbles.

I nod, still clasping my mouth shut until I can’t help myself. “But don’t you want someone to talk to?”

“I’ve got my boys for that,” he says, putting his hands behind his head.

“Wouldn’t it be great to have someone you could say anything to, be yourself with without feeling—”

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