“Um, so are you going to buy me a hot chocolate for being a good student or what?” I finally broke the silence.
“You think you deserve that, huh?”
I unstrapped my bindings and picked up my board. “Come on,” I whined. “It’s been hours, and I’m exhausted. I need a break.”
“Fine, let’s go.” He picked up his board and led the way to the wood cabin building that housed the rental equipment, food, and plenty of comfortable chairs to relax and warm up on.
“So, how did I do today?” I was unabashedly fishing for a compliment. There were a few other beginner snowboarders on the hill today, and I had shown way more improvement than any of them had.
Giles just shrugged and gave a noncommittal, “you did okay.”
“Okay? Did you see the other chumps out there? I was practically boarding in circles around them.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re dreaming, Florida. You all looked like a bunch of newborn gazelles trying to walk for the first time.”
“Hey.” I shoved his shoulder but laughed along with him. “Admit you’re impressed with me.”
“You’re relentless.” He held open the door to the main entrance of the cabin for me. “Fine. You did alright. Now stop badgering me and buy me a hot chocolate.”
I looked at him, appalled. “Excuse you. I thought that was my reward for a job well done?”
“I gave you a free lesson.” He pointed out as we walked over to the food service counter.
Rolling my eyes, I turned to the cashier. “Two hot chocolates, please.”
I fished around in my giant snowsuit for my credit card, but the teenager behind the counter handed over two cups without payment.
“Here you go, Giles.”
“Thanks, man,” he replied before turning away and handing me one.
“Don’t we have to pay?”
He smirked. “I work here, remember? Consider it a perk.”
I gratefully took the piping hot cup and sipped it cautiously.
“Fireplace?” Giles gestured toward the large one in the center of the room, surrounded by chairs.
“I think fireplaces in every building and a constant supply of hot chocolate might be my two favorite things about living in a mountain town.”
“It really is the only appeal.”
We sat down at a small two-person table. I shed my mittens so I could stick my frozen hands as close to the hot flames as possible.
“I don’t know how you spend all day every day out here. It’s freezing.”
“I’m acclimated. I’ve lived in cold temperatures my whole life. Your blood is just too thin.”
“That’s a myth…I think.”
“Your purple hands say otherwise.”
“Hey, they’re just a dark red.” I flexed my hands as my fingertips started to thaw.
We sat there in silence for a few beats, sipping our cocoa. It should feel awkward to sit with him like this, but it didn’t—not really.
“Thanks again for teaching me. I know being on the bunny hill can’t be that exciting for you.”
