“Are you okay, man? You’ve been acting weird, all tension-y and stuff,” he says, picking up on my sketchy-ass behavior. “Is this because I heard you jacking off? Because I really don’t care. It was actually kind of hot,” he rambles. “You know, like live-action porn.”
“Li, stop talking,” I beg, pinching the bridge of my nose. The absolutelast thingI need to know is that he thought me getting off was hot, but it’s too late. He already threw it out there, and now, my dick is swelling under his left calf.Fuck.“I’m good. Swamped with some stuff for work and this other thing I need to take care of, but I’m not ready to do it yet, so it’s just taking up space in my brain,” I explain cryptically.
He sits up, dragging his lower leg across my aching cock, and I almost come in my pants. Leaning over, he squeezes my shoulder. “If something’s going on, you can talk to me, you know.”
I know I can.
I need to.
Iwill.
But not right now. Not yet. I just want a couple more days before I ruin his trip.
“I know, Li. It’s all good. I’ll fill you in eventually.”
Liamand I have been sailing through fresh powder for hours. Usually, he likes me to ski in front of him so I can set the pace…and he doesn’t like to navigate. When I’m the leader, it allows him to turn his brain off and just enjoy the ride.
I love being able to do that for him.
He doesn’t ever say it, but I know he feels pressure to figure his life out, even though the truth is we’re still so young that he has plenty of time. Hewantsto find direction; I just think that between the trauma of losing his mom and the shit with his dad, he’s unable to figure out how to move forward.
But on this run, he passes me with a smack on my ass, gliding down the mountain like he owns it. He’s fully in control on a pair of skis, and watching him move is magic.
Liam is a work of art, six-feet-two-inches of pure athletic masculinity. His shoulders are broad, his waist is tapered, his abs have abs, and his quads could make statue carvers weep.
He captures everyone’s attention as he effortlessly moves down the mountain.
It’s a bluebird day—bright and sunny, with no clouds in the sky, and uncharacteristically warm. Liam is skiing in waterproof snow pants and a form-fitting white T-shirt with a light jacket unzipped over it.
God, I’m so fucking in love with him, it hurts.
“You still want to go hear that band play at Meltdown tonight?” I ask once we get back to the lift.
“Yeah, sounds fun!” His eyes widen in excitement. “Maybe we’ll run into Julie and Hannah again.”
My stomach plummets.
“Yeah, maybe,” I return with much less enthusiasm. A second later, I feel like a dick. I need to handle my shit, come clean to Liam, and stop dragging him down.
One more night,I tell myself. I’ll tell him tomorrow, but let me have tonight.
“It’s already three-thirty, so this will have to be our last run anyway,” he points out.
Plastering on the mother of all fake smiles, I knock my shoulder into his. “Race you down the mountain?”
“You’re on.”
Spoiler alert.
Liam not only wins, hedecimatesme. The laws of gravity really help him out here, though. He weighs a good fifty pounds more than I do, but he’s also willing to hit speeds I’m too chickenshit to attempt.
He whoops when I finally come into view halfway down the last slope, at the turnoff to our house. Staying slopeside really is the way to go.
I follow him to the ski rack outside of our place, and we both unclip before sitting on the bench and working our boots off.
“You mind if I get a bit of work done before we head down?” I ask, knowing we have a couple hours before the band starts. Out here, the lifts close at four to give the CATs a little bit of daylight to start grooming the slopes. It also helps give all the skiers and boarders time to get down the mountain before darkness sets in. The terrain is so massive and wild that there’s no such thing as ‘night skiing’because there’s no way to light the slopes.
“Nope,” Liam says. “Do you, boo. I’m going to find the gym and grab a workout.”
