Page 41 of Bachelor

I glanced at Jessica, who rolled her lower lip between her teeth, her brow furrowed as Cassandra twirled a lock of her blond hair around her finger and beamed up at Rhys.

“Come on, Whitney, tell him he has to come with us.”

“With us?” I repeated. “I’m—I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t unpacked.”

“Ugh, you graduate students can be such bores. I should have invited the undergrads. Now there’s a group that knows how to have a good time. Oh, hey! You made it!” She whirled and walked away, leaving the four of us looking after her.

“She’s going to be a problem this weekend, isn’t she?” Jessica asked.

I felt Rhys step beside me as we watched Cassandra make the rounds.

“Yeah, she is,” he said, then turned and walked away from our group, leaving me with a sinking feeling in my stomach that for whatever reason, Cassandra had just been trying to bait me and Rhys.

Chapter Fourteen

Rhys

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ILOOKED DOWN AT THEsplit board on my bed in the lodge, unable to stop myself from smiling. When was the last time I’d been able to do this? To get out on a mountain with fresh powder and shred?

I hauled the board over my shoulder, picked up my boots, and headed out the door.

The open space near the lobby was clean and tidy in comparison to what it had looked like the night before. Cassandra had everyone riled up and drinking heavily. Those who didn’t go to the bar stayed and drank, and several students had simply passed out on the couches around the fireplace by midnight.

I’d stayed in my room, not wanting to get stuck with her but regretting not going to the bar with Jessica, Tyler, and Whitney when Jessica had finally convinced her to go with them.

It was only eight in the morning, an hour before the mountain opened, but I decided to call for a shuttle to the day lodge anyway and get a head start.

I was the only one on the shuttle, and the day lodge at the base of the mountain was quiet when I walked in and leaned my gear against the wall and made my way over to the bar, where the scent of hot, to-go style breakfast and coffee hung heavy in the air.

“Coffee please, black... And one of those burritos, too.” I laid a twenty-dollar bill on the bar as the bartender turned to start pouring a cup of drip coffee.

“You want anything in it? Baileys, a shot of whiskey?”

“I need to hit a few runs before I start drinking today,” I replied, and the bartender grinned, nodding in agreement.

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