If he has it as bad for me as I do for him, we’re never going to get anything done for the rest of our lives except eat, sleep, and fuck. As if he can hear my thoughts, he tears himself away with a grunt.
“Baby, I’m already looking forward to making you come again, but this is our last day on the slopes, and we have big plans tonight, so eat something, and then let’s get out there. I promise I’ll give you whatever you want tonight.”
I spin to throw my arms around his neck. “What if what I want is to stay in and just be naked all night?”
He laughs as he smacks both hands on my ass.
“Except that. We’re definitely going out.”
“Dancing again?” I ask, thinking about the nightclub we hit at the bottom of the mountain.
“Nope.”
“Another band at Meltdown?” I guess again.
“No.”
“Another excursion? Massage? A Movie?” I throw out.
“No,” he laughs. “Now stop guessing. Drink your coffee, take a shower, and suit up.”
Before doing as he says, I have to ask. “Did you shave?” I ask it in that way that says I know he did, but what I’m really asking iswhy.
“Mhm,” he hums. “Gotta look good for my man,” he says with a wink.
We’ve skied almosteverything today. The western boundary, eastern boundary, one fuckingterrifyingslope off the north face, and some much less steep runs on the southern-facing side.
My legs are tired, I’m a sweating mess from going non-stop in these layers, and I’ve been hard for the last hour watching Liam handle himself on these slopes.
He’s been wearing a grin a mile wide all morning, and even though I’mstarvingand was ready to head in two hours ago, I won’t call it quits until Liam does.
“Let’s ski the trees,” Liam says on our next ride up the lift. I’m still sitting with my eyes closed, but now, I get to hold Li’s hand and rest my helmeted head on his shoulder. My body and mind are simultaneously exhausted and wired as we take another trip up the mountain.
“Okay,” I agree. “But you know I’ll be much slower than you. Just wait for me at the bottom, okay?” I ask, raising my voice to speak over the wind. Bad weather is supposed to be moving in over the next couple of days, and while I’m not ready to leave, I’ll be glad to get out before the inclement weather arrives. We’ve been so fortunate for the last two weeks.
“I’ll stay with you, but yeah, we’ll go slow. So slow, it’ll feel like we’re totally stopped.”
Right as he says that last part, the ski lift lurches to a stop like it sometimes does if someone falls getting on or off, or drops a pole or glove, and the lift operator can retrieve it.
Unfortunately, we’re still swinging forty feet above ground when another wind gust comes along, rocking us harder.
“Oh no, no, no,” I plead with Mother Nature like a frightened kindergartener.
“Hey,shhh. I’ve got you. We’re fine. Keep your eyes closed.” He reaches across his body to put my head back on his shoulder and wraps his arms around me, protecting me from the wind and cocooning me in his embrace. He dives into memory aftermemory to keep my mind occupied until the ski lift begins to move again. “I kind of feel like this lift ride is symbolic,” he says. “Some days, your future is so clear you can see the trajectory you’re on all the way to the end, and some days, like today, the winds of life kick up, and the clouds move in, and you can’t really tell if you’re moving forward or backward or if you’re going to make it all.”
Laughing, I say, “I hope there’s abutin there somewhere.”
“But,” he says with a chuckle. “If you wait out the storm and stay the course, you’ll end up exactly where you were meant to be.”
Where I want to be is with you, I think to myself as the lift house comes into view.
As soon as we exit, I follow Liam to an intermediate slope covered in thick pines. Because these trails can’t be groomed, the powder here is often thicker, which thankfully slows you down naturally.
The wind is picking up a little more, and where there were small patches of light blue sky earlier, they’ve all been swallowed by clouds. The air is heavy with the smell of snow, and a very light wintry mix is coming down.
“Last run?” Liam asks.
I nod. “Last run.”
