“I’ll try,” I tell him, tightening my hands around his arms. If it hurts him, he doesn’t show it.
He only smiles a fraction before looking out ahead of us at our path. I follow his gaze as we start to slide.
“Now, gently shift your weight from your heels to the balls of your feet. Dig that board into the mountain when I say, okay?” Baylor holds me firmly, giving me directions and explaining how the movements help us.
I nearly catch an edge again when I lean my weight back too far, but he pulls me forward just enough that I can regain my balance before we both topple over.
“Not bad. Keep your knees bent.”
“I am!” I argue.
He shakes his head at me. “You’re fucking stubborn, you know that?”
Something in his teasing tone makes me look up at him. There’s a softness to his grin I haven’t seen before.
He’s still looking ahead, so it gives me a chance to see him up close without his intimidating eyes locked on me. But that one look, that split second, costs us.
My weight is too far back, and as I try to pull myself back upright, I end up pulling Baylor down on top of me instead. In an attempt to catch myself, my hand takes the brunt of the fall and gets pinned beneath me.
I scream out as soon as the stabbing pain ensues. “Ow! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUU—”
Baylor’s eyes are wide as he scrambles off of me. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
I cradle my injured wrist, forcing back tears. “Oh, just karma. Fucking karma.”
4
Aspen in Aspen
Ipart my knees on the edge of the bench just outside the chalet to make room for the medic to inspect me closer. I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face as I stare up at the twenty-something-year-old blond wrapping my wrist in an elastic bandage. His eyes are the color of the ocean, and his jawline is so sharp that it makes me want to bite it.
“It’s just a sprain. Make sure you rest it for the first forty-eight hours, okay? Ice will help reduce the swelling.” An adorable crease forms between his brows as he concentrates.
“I’m Aspen, by the way,” I say, trying not to seem too obvious, but just obvious enough.
“Shaun.” The smile I get in return tells me I’m not the only one interested. “Aspen in Aspen, huh? You should check out the gift shop. Your name is everywhere.”
I giggle at his lame joke at the same time I hear Baylor’s not-so-subtle groan from the other side of the table.
“Jesus, fuck,” Baylor mutters.
“Ignore him,” I tell Shaun and purse my lips.
Baylor clicks his tongue and points over at the bandage on my wrist. “Is that really necessary?”
Shaun finishes wrapping the bandage. “Compression helps, yes.”
“What about drinks? Would that help too?” I bite my lower lip.
Shaun gives Baylor a wary glance.
He returns my gaze, looking hesitant. “Uh, I wouldn’t recommend drinking with any painkillers you plan on taking, but a beer or two might take the edge off.”
“Trycranberry vodka,” Baylor mumbles just loud enough that I hear him.
My brows twitch in surprise. He’s been around me drinking plenty of times to know I hate beer, but I’m still shocked that he’s paid enough attention to me to remember my favorite drink.
“There’s a good bar off the main road here that some of my friends frequent. The Tipsy Tavern,” Shaun suggests as he zips up his backpack full of medical supplies.
