Page 69

Sam folded her into his arms, breathing in the soothing, exhilarating scent of her. “Just need to give you this.”

Maya sank her head onto his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and it felt so good. She fitted against him perfectly, and he tried in vain to fight the feeling that they fitted together in more ways than just physically. Maya was a problem solver—like him—and having someone around to shoulder that burden with him was like a breath of fresh air. He didn’t even have to ask half the time; she was just there. Supporting, sorting, getting the job done. Nothing like the Maya he’d painted a picture of all these years.

But was it me who formed that image? Or did Maya walk out on me, and then Cat was the one who painted the picture after that?

Perhaps he hadn’t been, and never would be, good enough boyfriend material for Maya. In fact, there was no perhaps about it—she was too good for him. Plus, he was involved in a messy relationship, and even if that was on course to end soon, Maya was probably about to embark upon something with Brodie—who Sam had to admit seemed like a decent guy when he’d spoken to him in passing. But all of that didn’t mean Sam and Maya couldn’t be friends. There was no point in letting a past rejection get in the way of genuine friendship, otherwise it made him as toxic as the likes of his dad.

He eased his hold on her, but she didn’t let him go for another couple of seconds, and once she did, she gave him the softest smile, which made his heart soar. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go tell Ben.”

The chairlift rattled up the mountain, and for some reason Sam couldn’t stop looking at his ski-clad feet with Maya’s dangling next to them. He liked seeing that view again, after eight years of drought where her company on the mountain was concerned.

She was smiling as she watched the scenery. “No matter how many times I’m up here, it still takes my breath away,” she said, turning to grace him with the full beam of her smile. “You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he said, absorbing the soft warmth of her brown eyes. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The lift arrived at the top of the slopes and they skied off, waiting a few yards away for Rowan and Aileen to join them from the chairlift behind. The four of them had decided to do a celebratory but competitive run down the mountain before leaving for the day.

This kind of thing was right up Maya’s alley, and he could see the zealous glint in her eyes as she pulled her goggles onto her face. As soon as the woman was on the slopes, it was all about speed and winning for her, hence her sabotage of him in the pizza and chips race. He smiled at the memory.

“Right,” Rowan told the group as she rubbed her hands together like some kind of maniacal genius. “You know the drill. Choose your run, first one at the terrace wins.”

They were on the anterior side of the mountain, where the runs ended at the back terrace of the ski center. Choosing which run to take was a fine art. Some were more direct, but others lent themselves to the gathering of higher speeds. Sam had a sneaking suspicion that Rowan would take her favorite red run, and Aileen one of the blacks.

He rested his eyes on Maya. Which would she choose? He had a feeling that, like him, she might be inclined to go for an off-piste route.

“Ready?” Aileen asked them all, and the group gave her a mix of nods and thumbs-ups. Except for Maya, who shouted, “Hell yeah,” and caused them all to laugh. Sam grinned. Probably another one of her psyching out “tactics.”

“Count down from three, then we go from here,” Aileen said. “Right . . . three, two, one, go!”

Everyone pushed off, Rowan heading for red and Aileen for black, as Sam had predicted.

He and Maya set off toward the same run. Another black. Sam’s intention was to cross the tree line on the right-hand side and take an off-piste route that would be a little quicker than sticking on the main route.

He accelerated down the slope, heading in that direction, and noticed that Maya was veering off toward the opposite side—making for the tree line on the left. So his suspicion that she too would choose off-piste had been correct.

Suddenly, a nag of paranoia struck his gut. Her route sported a sheer cliff face just above it, with higher wind exposure. Those factors along with the recent heavy dump of snow made for a bigger avalanche risk in that area. Stop being overprotective. Maya will know that. She’s experienced.

He continued on his path for a few more seconds, the irrational fear escalating and driving up his heart rate. Fuck it. He veered left across the slope and through the tree line after her.

As he emerged, he spotted her farther down the route, oblivious to his presence and tackling the slope like the pro she was. A sense of foolishness overcame him, but he stuck with his choice. He’d choose feeling foolish over worrying about her any day of the week.

It appeared that she hadn’t noticed him tailing her; she seemed too zoned in on her path. As sneaky as it felt, he opted to stay a few yards behind in order to keep watch without having to explain himself. He hoped that she hadn’t clocked the fact that he’d been headed in a different direction a few moments before. Though if she did, perhaps she might put it down to his being a bit of a cheat, rather than suspecting he wanted to look out for her.

The line of trees to their right whizzed past, and for a moment the anxiety he’d experienced melted away, leaving only the exhilaration of skiing off-piste behind his favorite ski buddy.

He admired her form as she carved a path ahead of him, feeling as if he could watch her all day. She was graceful yet ruthlessly fast on skis, and although he knew he could catch up with her, he would have to work pretty hard to do so.

She was clearly engrossed in her descent and preoccupied with her goal, because she still hadn’t noticed him. It was only a matter of time before she did, however, and he was aware he’d need to style it out with an excuse when the time came. And there was no point in fooling himself that he was only looking out for her as a friend, when the real story was he had it bad for her.

Fuck. I really do have it bad.

That thought hit him right in the heart, to the point that it took him a second to register the low-pitched rumble behind them, like a small aircraft passing above. A brief turn of his head confirmed snow starting to tumble down the rock face. I fucking knew it.

His reflexes kicking in and his pulse ramping up, Sam crouched, keeping his skis straight and poles out behind him, increasing his velocity as he closed the gap between him and Maya. It took a matter of seconds, and yet it felt like hours.

“Maya!” he shouted as he drew alongside her left. She did a double take, opening her mouth to say something.

Sam gestured to the tree line on the right. “Get in there, now!”