“Austin,” I gasp. This is so much better than any awkward late-night wank into a thermal sock.
Unfortunately, saying his name breaks the spell we are both falling under. He stumbles back like he’s the one who’s been punched now. He’s breathing hard, and he looks at me like he’s never seen me before.
“I-I shouldn’t have done that. Not yet,” he says.
Not yet? Then when? And why not now? Because it turns out kissing Austin is pretty much the best thing ever, short of standing on that podium at the Olympics while they play the national anthem and I know that everyone is watching me.
But before I can say anything about any of that, Austin shakes his head a final time, then spins and runs away like he’s being chased. Runs! One second, he’s got me so turned on I might be convinced to come in my pants. The next, the cold wind blows through me as I shiver alone in the dark.
CHAPTER
THREE
There goes my night.I return to the bar, but everything is back like it was. Someone’s singing Olivia Rodrigo terribly, and Kage and Matthieu are right up at the edge of the stage, cheering like they’re watching Olivia herself. There’s no sign of Daniel or any kind of fight or altercation or whatever even happened after Austin and I got out of there. Just like there’s no sign of Austin. The only proof I have that any of the last few minutes occurred the way I think they did is the welt on my cheek and the way my chin stings in the places Austin’s stubble scraped over it a moment ago.
When I go back outside again, the parking lot is dead silent. Where the hell did he go?
And why the hell did he kiss me?
I put my hand to my lips, reliving the feeling of his mouth on mine. The hungry sounds he made as he tried to get even closer to me. What the hell? This is even more confusing than some random drunk Frenchman punching me instead of taking the loss and finding someone else to grope.
But where is Austin? He can’t have gone running off into the night. It may be late season, teetering on spring, but it’s stillbelow freezing now that the sun is down and he didn’t even have a coat.
I text him.
Hey? Are you okay?
Where did you go?
I’m still at the bar. We don’t have to talk. Just let me know you’re safe.
It’s a long way up some very dark roads to get back to the resort. He couldn’t have done it on foot. But he doesn’t answer me either.
I wait outside until I’m shivering, thinking he needed a second to himself. But after another twenty minutes, he still hasn’t returned, so I retrieve my jacket from a pile we all made in the corner of one booth when we walked in, then grab Austin’s too.
I’m going back to the hotel. Tell me when you get in.
The whole cab ride up the mountain road, I keep an eye out for Austin trudging in the dark but never see him. I text a few more times, but they all go unread. I think about calling Matthieu. Maybe even Ivan. But Austin is a grown-up and calling the others feels like tattling on him. Plus I’ll have to tell them what happened after we left the bar. We got teased enough when we first joined the team. Were we friends, or were wefriends? Some people will be absolutely insufferable if they hear about the two of us kissing behind a sketchy karaoke bar in the middle of the night.
When I walk through the heavy doors into the hotel lobby, Austin is sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs.
“I’m an idiot,” he says when I approach him.
I snort. “That’s not news.” He’s my best friend and I would do anything for him, but Austin’s always been the chaos gremlin in our little pair. He skis on instinct. Makes decisions on the fly. Most of the time that works for him. Works for us. He dreamsbig and I come up with the plan and execute. But right now, I need him to come back to earth so we can talk.
“I shouldn’t have run away like that.”
That’s probably as close to an apology as I’m going to get, so I say, “Yeah, that wasn’t a great choice.”
But we’re both still clearly skiing on different terrain, because he says, “My room key was in my coat.”
Oh. And here I thought we were going to have an adult conversation about what happened back there.
“Jesus, did you run all the way up here?” I wasn’t that far behind him. We may be well matched on skis, and Austin’s always been able to outrun me, but for him to make it the whole way without me overtaking him in a literal car seems impossible.
“I needed some air. Clear my head.” He shivers. When I grab his hand, it’s like ice.
“Come on,” I say, pulling him to his feet.
