It was a cute little place—apparently styled after Swiss Chalets. It was full of exposed dark wooden beams and raw stone. The tables were thick slabs of pine and cedar and the whole place was cozy and warm. A fire crackled in the hearth and the gentle noises of the other patrons and the occasional sound from the kitchen was the soundtrack to this space.
“I’m glad you agreed to come. I honestly wasn’t sure if you were going to be up for skiing. How’s your knee feel?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I said.
“Aimee.”
“Lukas,” I arched an eyebrow.
“It’s really not bothering you?” I asked.
I take a minute to assess any pain.
“Maybe the slightest bit of discomfort, but I’ll ice it when I get back.”
He picked up his mug, looking satisfied as hell, and took a drink—and once again no whipped cream. I do the same, and I barely put the cup down before his thumb was snaking out and wiping the tip of my nose. My eyes follow his finger as he brings it to his mouth and licks it. Then he sucked, and I flushed.
Goddammit.
He shot me that infuriating but gorgeous smirk and opened his mouth to say something that would drive me insane, but our waitress came back over with our meals. She ignored me, but she couldn’t stop staring at Lukas.
Jealousy slammed into me.
“He’s hot, right?” I asked.
She stiffened and turned to me.
“Like, it’s unfair how hot he is. His lips alone are sinful—they’re my favorite.”
Lukas dipped his head, but I could see him fighting a smile and probably a laugh by the way his shoulders were starting to shake.
“Y-Yeah, he’s hot,” the girl said.
“So hot. Like anyone would be so lucky to have him.”
“Do you have him?” she asked, attitude slipping into her voice.
I opened my mouth to snark back, but Lukas beat me to it, “Oh, she has me,” he said, “I’m flattered, but I’m already taken.”
The waitress blushed, nodded and walked away.
“We’re leaving her a massive tip,” he said, chuckling.
“I’ll leave her a tip,don’t flirt with guys on dates,” I snapped shoving a ketchup coated fry into my mouth.
Lukas leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. I kept shoving fries into my mouth in aggravation. A smile spread across his face and it made me pause.
“What?” I asked, grumpiness overloading my tone.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Aimee Bryant?”
I choked.
“You said‘don’t flirt with guys on dates’so is that what this is? Is this your way of asking me out?” he smiled playfully.
“Do you wanna date me Aimee Bryant?” He teased.
Did I? I knew that the impending threat of saying goodbye at the end of this trip was slowly eating at me, but I don’t even know what our lives look like outside of the lodge.
