Out in Winter: Out in College, #8 by Lane Hayes

Author:Lane Hayes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lane Hayes

Fuck. Me. Skiing sucked.

Before we’d even reached the lifts, my knees were sore, and my shins were aching where the rental boots dug into them. Oh yeah, and it was cold. But according to my chipper companion, the sun was shining, the powder was perfect, and our timing couldn’t have been better. We had the mountain to ourselves.

I liked that idea. I needed a few runs on the beginner slopes for a refresh; then I’d be ready to move on to the intermediate action. Liam didn’t agree.

“The bunny slope?” he repeated incredulously, cocking his head in confusion. “This isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, but it’s been a few years. I think smaller inclines are the way to go till I get my bearings.”

“Wrong. The bunny slope is for kids and adults who’ve never been on skis. You don’t belong there. It’s a waste of time, and every minute counts at this time of day. We need to get to the higher elevations while there aren’t as many people out.”

“Okay, but—”

“Trust me, Drew. I’m very, very good at this. I told you we’ll take it slow. I won’t push too hard or ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I can’t tell if we’re talking about skiing or sex,” I joked.

Liam ripped his sunglasses off and shot a naughty, sexy grin at me. “Are you trying to give me Alpine wood?”

We stared at each other for a second, then busted up laughing.

“I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of making sex jokes when I’m nervous, and call me crazy, but flying down a mountain on two thin pieces of metal makes me especially nervous since I barely survived the last time and—never mind.” I sighed heavily as I trudged toward the nearest lift.

Liam bumped my arm as he came to stand beside me in front of a giant map of the terrain. “What happened last time?”

“A tree jumped up out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass,” I grumbled.

“Ouch. How serious?”

“Not too bad. I got off with a sprained ankle and wounded pride, but five years later, I’m still a little gun-shy.”

“I can tell. You said ‘ass,’ and ‘got off,’ and I’m guessing ‘gun-shy’ is your metaphor for a limp dick. That tree really messed with your head, eh?”

I barked a laugh. “You catch on quick.”

His pretty smile lit his eyes and beamed like a ray of sunshine, making it impossible not to return the gesture.

“Well, you’re with the right guy this time. I’ll take care of you. No rogue trees today. And no limp dicks, which also means no kiddie runs.” He pointed at the oversized map and traced his proposed route. “We’ll take the All-Mountain Express and go down the Westridge Park run to—”

“No way! That goes to the top of the mountain. I can’t do that.”

“Sure, you can. These are easy-to-intermediate runs. And there’s barely anyone out there yet. You couldn’t ask for better conditions.”

“Fine,” I griped, heading for the back of the line. I followed his lead and popped my skis onto my boots.

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