I could offer him my guest room, but my house is my sanctuary. Land out here is much cheaper than back on the East Coast, and when that beauty became available, I spent every dime I had on the down payment. I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions in life, but my house is probably the smartest one I’ve ever made.
I open my mouth to invite him and quickly close it again. Making friends with the other interns will be good for him, I decide at the last second.
“Okay,” I say stupidly. “What size do you wear?” I ask next, moving to the gear closet in my office. As the lead of the avalanche division, I’m responsible for the students, the equipment checks, and the blasting schedule. My team, including myself, is responsible for monitoring snowpack conditions, performing rescue operations both on the resort and in the backcountry when needed, and, of course, my favorite…dropping charges out of helicopters to trigger avalanches.
“Probably a medium?” he phrases it like a question; the confidence I heard on the phone replaced by his usual uncertainty.
It annoys me that he’s falling back into this pattern with me, even if I recognize that I’m the cause.
I open the closet, and then the drawers, pulling out our standard issueAVALANCHE PATROLhoodie,SKI PATROLjacket, black Gore-Tex snow pants, and a pair of goggles.
“Do you have Gore-Tex boots?” I ask, handing him his new ensemble.
He points to his feet.
He’s wearing hiking boots, for fuck’s sake.
“Han,” I start, his nickname just slipping out, “those will never do. You’ll have to have your fucking toes amputated by Thursday.”Okay, so he’s not the only one falling back into old habits.I place a stack of papers in front of him. “Read these and sign at the bottom.”
“The packing list wasn’t that specific. It just saidsturdy boots,” he argues, picking up the pen.
“You’re studyingavalanchesinMONTANA!” I yell, throwing my arms out to the side. My anger is making my core temperature rise, and I shed my jacket as I pace around the small space. “If your feet get wet, your day isdone, Hanlon. You can’t just push through everything out of sheer determination to prove that your diagnosis doesn’t limit you!” I yell, admittedly too loudly, considering Logan probably has his ear pressed against my office door.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Hanlon says calmly. “Can you please just put me with someone else? I’d like to actuallyenjoymy time out here.”
“And what? Have you put himandyourself at risk because you’re too fucking stubborn to admit when you need a break? What happens when you push yourself to exhaustion on this mountain and succumb to the cold? Do you think anyone else is going to know to massage your feet and ankles and work their way up in order to get your muscles firing again? Do you honestly think you’dtell themif you knew that’s what you needed?” I argue.
“I’m not a fucking kid anymore, Stone. I can manage myself just fine.”
“Clearly,” I snap, waving my hand toward his hand where it rests on the desk. He stood outside without gloves on for God knows how long, and now he’s having trouble holding the pen tightly enough to sign his fucking name.
He scribbles an X on the line, knowing it technically suffices even though we both know that’s not his signature.
“What’s next,Boss?” he says through gritted teeth, trying my patience, which is already nonexistent.
“We’re going shopping.”
Chapter 4
Hanlon
Okay, so Stonemight’vehad a point about my boots. It was a rookie mistake. Especially since I live in Vermont, where our average annual snowfall is seventy-two inches. I’m pissed that I’m already giving him reasons to be angry at me.
Being face-to-face with him again is confusing as fuck. I mean, I wasn’t really expecting a warm welcome, but I guess I have to admit a small part of me was maybe hoping for a handshake or a pat on the back.
Before I leave his office, I decide totryto be the bigger person. Extend an olive branch. Think through shit better.ProveI’m an adult capable of taking care of myself. Nodding my head with resolve—because I can do this—I push up from the chair, gather my new things, and head into the main portion of the office building.
There’s another guy in a red ski patrol jacket, eating a banana as he looks over a map. When I enter his space, he looks up, and his grin curls into a full-blown smile.
“Hey, man. I’m Logan. Bad-ass helicopter pilot and explosives extraordinaire,” he says, extending a hand.
“Hanlon Winchester. Nice to meet you.”
“So, Hanlon, who do you do for fun?”
“Logan,” Stone growls menacingly from the corner in a warning I don’t fully understand.
“Get your panties out of a wad, Addario. I’m just asking the kid about his hobbies.”
