After rolling my eyes, I tried to defend myself. "I probably just put too much pancake mix in the bowl. It was a simple mistake."
Bruno came closer. When he peered into the bowl with an expression of disinterest, I gave up. "Let's just order room service. It's too late in the day for pancakes anyway."
"You have many skills. Especially over there," he pointed to the bed, "but the kitchen isn't your strong point."
Before I had a chance to defend myself, he dipped a finger into the batter and tapped it on the tip of my nose. Without a moment's hesitation, I smeared a streak across his cheek.
Bruno blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then chuckled and moved in to close the last bit of distance between us. Our hips bumped as we struggled for control of the bowl. Laughing, we clumsily knocked it to the ground, but the mess wasn't important. Bruno reached out and grabbed my waist, and I didn't pull away. There was something in the way he looked at me then, eyes soft and his mouth curved in that relaxed smile of his, that made every simple act, even ruining our meal, feel like something more. Something easy. Something like love.
We left the mess in the kitchen and cleaned ourselves up. Then we headed downstairs to grab a bite at Avalanche, the restaurant attached to Stone Peak. Across from Bruno, I sat eating a delicious burger when he stared at me.
"What? Do I have ketchup on my face?"
"If you did, it wouldn't matter."
I frowned. What did that mean? Did I? What was he looking at? I lifted my hand and wiped it just in case but felt nothing.
"You're beautiful, Alex."
I looked down at my plate, cheeks warming as his words sank in, and though I tried to hide my smile behind my wine glass, I knew he saw it.
Jesus, he didn't make it easy, but I tried to deflect. "You're not so bad looking yourself."
Bruno chuckled. I meant it, even with the large glass windows that gave me a great view of the mountains, he was still the best-looking thing in the restaurant.
"When we finish eating, why don't we beautiful people go enjoy a game of pool?" Bruno said.
We played pool constantly in college. It had been a year since our last game together, yet I was certain we would fall back into rhythm as easily as we did with everything else.
"You're on."
The score was closerthan expected.
"I see you've been practicing," I said, curious for an explanation.
As he rubbed chalk on his cue, Bruno merely winked and leaned over the pool table with annoying confidence, one hand steady, the other guiding the cue like he had all day to play. I watched the ball sink into the pocket with a clean, smug click. I rolled my eyes; this wasn't going to be a cakewalk after all. Bruno used to miss half his shots. Had he been practicing the whole time we were apart?
"Your turn."
"I know it's my turn," I snapped and grabbed my cue.
He might've improved, but I didn't get worse, so victory could still be mine. Wasting no time, I knocked two balls into a pocket.
"Oh. You still have that trick shot," Bruno said, with an unimpressed expression.
"Don't pretend you aren't amazed."
"I'm always amazed by your skills."
His words had a sensual tone, but I ignored them. I refused to be distracted.
For a while we went back and forth; it was close, but the next shot could help me win, then we could check out the lodge's other amenities.
"Let's wrap this up," I said, then leaned over the pool table, hips steady and cue in hand, ready to sink the shot.
"Alex, I love you."
Yanking my head up, I stared at him. This wasn't something I didn't know, but getting used to the words on Bruno's lips would take me a while. My heart pounded so hard I could barely breathe, and as the tears welled up, all I could think was that something in me had been waiting for those words all along.
