“Well, goodnight,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.”
Their eyes met again and she felt herself falling into his kiss. Their lips touched, his so gentle, but urgent too. Their tongues met and the tingly warmth inside her exploded.
He pulled back. “Goodnight, Cassidy,” Pete said, his gaze lingering a moment longer.
She let herself in. From the doorway, she watched him give her a wave before climbing in to his car, his grin lighting up the night.
Five
Mt. Baker Ski Area
November 28, 2014
Cassidy glided to a stop in the Chair 1 lift line and peeked at the clock on the lift shack’s window: 10:45. She and Pete had agreed to meet at eleven. Did she have time for one more run? Ten new inches of snow had fallen overnight, with more falling throughout the day. Cassidy didn’t want to stand around waiting when there were fresh tracks to make. She would just ski really fast. The challenge of it excited her.
Cassidy scooted along with the other skiers loading onto the two-person chairlift. She joined up with another single, a mom in a thick woolen hat with earflaps and navy blue bibs that squeaked as she shuffled. Her two kids, boys on snowboards, stood paired up ahead of them. Cassidy looked again for Pete in the mob behind her, then at the clock: 10:48. It was going to be tight.
The liftie swept the seat free of snow for Cassidy and the mom and the two of them sat. The mom next to her gave a great sigh as they soared into the air.
Cassidy scanned the area below the lift as they rose above it, including the lodge zone behind them for signs of Pete. A nervous tingle zipped over her chilled skin at the thought of seeing him again. Since their date at the pub, she had gone back and forth about her decision not to invite him in. He hadn’t seemed disappointed, which was a relief, but after she had climbed into bed, alone, she felt a longing for his touch. Pete seemed like such a gentleman, but she didn’t know him well enough to read him. A painful memory from her time with Luke on the mountain pulled at her heart like an anchor. He had seemed like a great guy at first, too. She had no intention of enduring anything like that again, though making sure of this seemed out of her control. After finally leaving Luke, she had wondered for a long time if there was something wrong with her. She had dated a few guys since, but it always ended with her pulling away.
But something about Pete felt different, and it scared her.
Cassidy’s stomach growled, and coupled with the butterflies tickling her insides, made her feel slightly sick. The chairlift climbed up and over a rocky cliff face that offered one narrow chute, which she thought might be skiable in the right conditions. Her years as a ski patroller had taught her more about human stupidity than she ever cared to know, but it had also forced her to become creative in regards to terrain. After five years on the same mountain, finding new routes or places to ski became critical to preserving the fun factor. She would not be skiing the chute today, however. Not enough snow.
At the top, she slipped her mittened hands into her pole straps and pointed her tips down, heading for Pan Face. The middle was completely tracked out. She found a bit of fluff remaining on the sides, so she carved her way down the top section, feeling a slow burn in her thighs. By the time she hit the cat track at the bottom, her quads were on fire, but she had forgotten her nervousness and her teeth were aching from smiling in the cold for so long.
Pete was waiting at the edge of the lift line, scanning the crowd. A tremble hit her knees and the nervousness swirled up again. He was wearing black pants, a light blue coat, and a yellow hat with an argyle pattern. She zoomed straight towards him then arrested sharply, spraying him with snow. He put up his hands in protest.
Cassidy eyed the clock: 11:04. Not bad.
“No friends on a powder day, is that it?”
“Guilty,” she answered, still catching her breath. “Sorry, I was early, and I thought . . . ” she trailed off because the rest sounded lame.
“No worries. It was my turn to wait for you,” he said, knocking against her shoulder. The sudden contact kicked her butterflies into action again. A craving to kiss him flooded her body, but she realized the awkwardness of it. A funny image flashed into her mind of the two of them embracing in the middle of the lift line, their goggles bumping and their skis getting tangled while an angry mob yelled insults.
The two of them slid forward to the loading spot and turned toward the center to catch the chair. She noticed the tiny freckles dotting Pete’s nose and cheeks. The pub had been too dark for her to notice them, and during their St. Helens trip he must have been too tanned.
“Are you hungry?” Pete asked as the chair whisked them into the air. He tucked his poles under his leg and unzipped his coat.
Cassidy’s stomach replied with a grumble. “I brought a few hard boiled eggs,” she said.
“Here,” he said, handing her half of a hearty-looking sandwich.
“Wait, this is yours,” she protested, “You don’t have to share your lunch with me.”
“I want to,” he said, still offering it. “I couldn’t eat all of this myself anyway.”
Cassidy hesitated, wondering if he was bullshitting her. “Thanks,” she said, taking the sandwich. They each took a bite. The whole-grain bread was soft but hadn’t been completely smashed, and there was something salty inside—salami?—and cheese, plus some kind of veggie.
“Yum,” Cassidy said.
This must have pleased Pete because he seemed to glow. “After I saw your lunch on our field day I decided you needed
