Luka's face flashes through my mind. The way he looked through the café window. The way he kept walking.
The way I can't stop thinking about that moment, replaying it like footage I'm analyzing for a client. What did it mean? Why do I care so much?
This is exactly why I said no to sushi. Why I walked away before Zack could read the truth on my face. I'm not available—not emotionally and certainly not mentally. I'm tangled up in something messy and complicated with a man who's all wrong for me, whom I'm supposed to be managing professionally, whom I shouldn't even be thinking about in this way.
But here I am, thinking about him anyway.
The chalet comes into view with the porch light a beacon in this weather. The hot tub calls to me, and I have no intention of ignoring it.
I kick off my boots the moment I walk in, wincing as my ankle protests. A week of skiing—or more accurately, a week of fallingwith occasional moments of actual skiing—has left my body with a laundry list of complaints. My thighs burn. My shoulders ache. There's a persistent twinge in my lower back that suggests I twisted something three days ago during my spectacular wipeout.
I head to the bedroom, dig through my drawer for the black bikini I packed, expecting to use the indoor hot tub and sauna at the resort. Walking out into the cold to get into the hot tub sounds like a near-death experience, but my shoulders are begging for a half hour in the warm, wet heat.
Apparently, tonight I'm choosing danger.
I send off a quick text to Zack because I told him that I would:
I made it back. Thanks for tonight.
I wrap myself in the plush white robe hanging on the back of the door and pad across the kitchen towards the side door that leads to the hot tub under the back porch, bare feet silent on the hardwood.
The sliding glass door to the deck is unlocked. Through it, I can see steam rising into the cold mountain air, illuminated by the soft lights built into the hot tub's edge.
My hand hesitates on the handle, but then I slide the door open anyway. The cold night air hit me first, a chill sliding down my back.
I freeze halfway through the doorway.
Luka’s in the hot tub, arms stretched along the edge, head tipped back against the rim. His eyes are closed, features relaxed in a way I've never seen them. In sleep that first night, yes—but this is different. This is conscious surrender, as if he's trying to drown something in the heat and bubbles.
He looks almost vulnerable like this. The hard edges softened by steam and darkness. His chest rises and falls, and I can’tstop watching like it’s hypnotizing. Water droplets cling to his collarbone, catching the light.
Then his eyes opened.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Something flickers across his face… surprise, I think. As if he expected me to be elsewhere.
"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I didn't know you were out here. I figured you'd be at the bar with—"
"With who?" he asks, his voice rough as if it’s been a long day.
"No one... nothing..." I shake my head, suddenly feeling foolish standing here in my robe, holding it tightly closed. "I just figured you'd be out late."
"I’m not in the mood tonight." His gaze held mine, steady and infuriatingly unreadable.
"Right." I take a step back toward the door. "Well, I'll just go back in and read. Leave you alone."
"There's plenty of room, Bunny Hill."
The nickname makes me roll my eyes automatically, like a reflex I can't control. He knows that I hate it. That's precisely why he uses it.
He shifts slightly, arms still draped along the edge in that cool casualness that Luka does so well. "You're welcome to join me."
I bite my lip, debating. My body is screaming for hot water. My brain is screaming that this is a terrible idea.
"You're sure?" I hear myself ask. "I'm not interrupting anything? You don't have company coming over?"
Something dark and amused crossed his face. "No. No company. It's just you and me."
His eyes drop to my mouth, catching on my teeth pressed into my lower lip as I debate whether this is a bad idea. Heat flares between us, sudden and unmistakable.
