“I know!” I slam my gaze to the ceiling. “I was hung up on the free skiing. I didn’t realize it was a romantic couples thing.”
We continue to pace away from the table at a brisk speed. Paisley hisses under her breath, “Sophie flat out said couples’ weekend when she offered.”
I open the exit door and wait for her to pass through it. “Right, but nobody gave me a heads-up about the Valentine’s thing. Where did that come from?”
“It came from the calendar.” She snicker-laughs.
I drop my voice to include more calm inflections. “It’s fine, really. Just because it’s a couples’ thing doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the free skiing. It doesn’t change anything because a pink angel in a diaper claimed this weekend.”
Her expression flattens, and the only clue to how she’s feeling are her round, now vulnerable eyes. “You still want to go knowing it’s Valentine’s Day?”
“We are both off work and don’t have to make a big deal about the couple things. It’s free skiing.”
“Right.” Her arms cross over her chest, as we are almost to my car. She echoes as if she’s still trying to convince herself. “Just free skiing.”
“And maybe some hot chocolate.” I gesture toward her, hoping to lighten the mood. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Hot chocolate is good.” Her chin raises and lowers. “And probably a lot of time with Sophie and Axl, which will be great. It will give me a chance to get to know them better.” Her inflectionshave calmed down now. I risk direct eye contact as I’m no longer afraid her angered gaze is going to disintegrate me.
“Right. Don’t worry.” I open my door and get in. I’m calm on the outside, but my brain is still flashing a mirage of chocolate candy hearts, red roses, and cards with images of couples dancing and kissing. The brain filter that I should have put in place falters, and I word vomit the thoughts that should have stayed silent. “It’ll be totally fine. It’s not like there’ll be any kissing or anything.”
“Wait. What?” She opens her door with urgency and slides in next to me, her eyes searching for answers in mine. “Why would you blurt that out?”
My gaze slams to the heavens.
Why would I blurt that out?
For real, Noah.
“It was a joke?” My defense sounds like a question, and I avoid her gaze as I start the car and pull forward, so ready to change this subject. “Anyway, about those wild monkeys . . .”
When I get home, I dump the contents of my travel bag on my bed and sort through them. Unused socks. I drop them back into the bag, as I will definitely need them for snowboarding. Wireless earbuds. Yep, back in the bag those go, because Axl has been known to snore. The rest of the stuff is dirty laundry, so I scoop that all up in one giant heap and walk it over to my hamper. I’ll have to deal with that when I get back.
I cross my room again to my closet and open the door right as my mom pops her head in. “Hey, I thought you were done withovernight travel games?” Her reading glasses are on the tip of her nose, indicating that she’s already taken out her contacts for the night and is passing on her way to bed to watch the news with Bill.
“We are.” I snatch a Granite Ice sweatshirt off the hanger and roll it up as I walk back to my bed. “I got invited to go snowboarding this weekend with Axl and his fiancé. We are leaving in the morning."
“Oh, Sophie.” She nods, the ends of her lips pulling into a pleased grin. “That sounds like fun. Is it just the three of you going?”
“Nope.” I roll my lips in and silently chew myself out for not moving out of my parents’ house sooner. I love my mom dearly, but it’s moments like this that drive me insane. I have no idea what this little trip with Paisley means, but I know my mom’s going to insist she needs to know what it means. “And Paisley.”
“Paisley?” On cue, one eyebrow pitches up in the form of an actual question mark. I’m not even exaggerating. It has an arch and a squiggle, and it’s asking me to expound.
I stare forward, racking my brain to answer her eyebrow. “I don’t think I know her last name.” I draw a blank as I recall our past conversations. “It never came up.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Her lips even into a straight line. I’m almost off the hook, as I can see her brow lowering, but then the worst thing ever happens.
Bill walks up and parks a hand on my doorframe. “What’s interesting?”
The only thing worse than living with your mom as an adult is also living with your boss. Why didn’t I close and lock the door when I had the chance? I flick my attention to my bag, doing my best to not welcome more questions. “I’m going skiing this weekend with Axl and Sophie.”
“And Paisley.” Mom aims her question-mark eyebrow at Bill like I’m fourteen and this is my first date.
“Paisley.” Bill’s gaze cuts to me. Cue the interrogation in three, two—"Why does that name sound familiar?”
“She’s been working with the team for a few weeks.” I keep the comments focused on her professional life. “You hired her for PR.”
“I didn’t hire anyone.” His deer-in-the-headlights look flashes. “Oh, her! Yeah, she’s not my employee. She’s working for some magazine, and she’s here for a little over a month.”
