The Slope Rules Read online

  One thing’s for sure: I’m texting Sophia as soon as I get inside.

  I double check that Blake is still in line for hot chocolate, then whip out my phone and fire off a text to Sophia. Found a hottie. Made contact.

  My good knee bounces in time to my heart, which hasn’t settled since Blake deposited me in a chair near the fireplace and pulled off his helmet, revealing shaggy brown hair that falls just above his crazy-blue eyes. The image in my head of us sipping hot chocolate next to the fire is beyond corny, but who am I to argue when they were the only open chairs.

  My phone vibrates. Spill.

  Major wipeout. He came to my rescue. Carried me into the lodge.

  I check his progress in line and shake my head. What universe have I landed in where the hottest guy here—and the nicest, and not to mention a kickass boarder—is trying to impress me? It’s not like I’m not interested in boys, but I’ve always been so focused on skiing that by middle school I wedged myself in as one of the guys and now it’s too late to change it. The few dates I’ve been on were with boys outside my circle and they always get scared off once they meet my pack of friends and see how protective they are of me.

  And you’re having his babies when?

  I snort just as Blake sits in the chair next to me. “Was it something I said?”

  “Sorry! It’s my friend. She’s a little... never mind.” I tuck my phone into my coat pocket and take a Styrofoam cup from him. Our fingers graze and a little zing of electricity rockets up my arm and straight into my belly. I clear my throat, hoping he doesn’t notice that I can’t seem to speak.

  He sets a bag of ice on the table, slides another chair close to me so I can prop up my leg, and sits in the chair next to me. I grab the bag and roll the ice around to break up any chunks, then plop it on my knee. I should really pull up my snowpants for the ice to help, but the bunny long underwear is staying in hibernation.

  Once he’s sure I’m situated, he leans forward so his elbows are on the table and points one finger like he’s counting. “So here’s what I know. You’re one of the best trick skiers I’ve ever seen.” He points a second finger. “You’re here with your dad and...?” His head tilts as he waits for me to reply.

  “Just my dad.”

  He points the third finger. “And you’re gorgeous. Now this would be enough for your average snowboarding fool, but I want to know more.”

  Who talks like that? I look around, expecting people to be staring, but no one’s paying attention to us. “Am I being punked?”

  He furrows his brows. “What?”

  “I’ve never once had anyone say something like that to me. I figure it must be a joke.”

  A blush creeps up his cheeks and he pushes his hair off his forehead. “No joke. I had a lot of time to think when you were with the ski patrol dude. But I mean it. The girls at my school are too worried about their hair to put on a helmet and pull the flip you did.”

  I shrug. “I guess I don’t worry about those things.”

  He smiles and my belly does another somersault. “And that’s why I want to know more about you. Where are you from?”

  I take a deep breath and force myself to relax. While I don’t want to fall into the friend zone with Blake, I know how to talk to guys. Pretend he’s Hunter or Sam. “I’m from Vermont. South Burlington. I’m on the ski team and wasn’t supposed to try that last trick without my coach, but the powder here is so different from back home I couldn’t resist.” I glance out the window in the direction of the scene of my crash and smile. “He’ll be happy you forced me onto the sled.”

  His dimple deepens. “Right place, right time. So this is your first time in Colorado?”

  I nod. “What about you?”

  His smile hardens for a millisecond, but it’s back so fast I wonder if I imagined it. “I’m from Lake Tahoe. The California side.”

  “Ooh, a Cali boy?”

  He rolls his eyes. “We’re not all bad.”

  “No, I’m intrigued. Us east coast girls don’t have too many run-ins with surfer boys.”

  He bites his lower lip. “I don’t surf. I live in the mountains.”

  “Oh, I figured you’re such a good snow boarder that you must surf in the summer.” He’s quiet, and I scramble for a new topic. I don’t know what made him clam up, but I can’t blow this in the first five minutes. “How long are you here for?”

  The tension in his shoulders relaxes and he leans back in his chair. “‘Til Sunday.”

  “Me too.” I can’t stop the goofy smile that plasters itself to my face. I met this boy less than an hour ago and I’m acting like we’re already in love. Which makes my cheeks flame even hotter.

  “When did you start skiing?”

  This I can handle. I launch into the story of how my mom was one of the first women in Vermont to do a backflip in competition, and how she taught me to ski by wedging me between her legs when I was barely three—no snowplow on the bunny hill for me. “She died seven years ago in a car accident, and now I feel closest to her when I’m skiing. Especially when I’m in the air.” Tears burn my eyes and I drag the back of my hand across them. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to drop that on you. We don’t talk about her at home as much as we used to, and it’s been a while since I’ve met anyone who didn’t know. Back home there’s no point bringing it up.”

  He leans toward me, eyes shining, and rests his hand on my bad knee. “That’s cool that you still have a connection with her.”

  I haven’t told many people about my connection with my mom and it touches me more than I can explain that Blake, who barely knows me, gets it. I take a sip of hot chocolate. “So what’s your story?”

  He gives me his full-wattage smile and I almost lose myself in his gaze. “It’s not nearly as dramatic as yours. Where I’m from you either ski or board. I’ve just always boarded.”

  “And you’ve just always been able to get air so massive you practically flew over me?”

  “What can I say? I got skills.” He pauses, and I feel like he’s holding something back, but I don’t press him. He moves his hand to the side of my knee, careful not to knock over the ice while lightly rubbing the tendons and turning me into a puddle of mush. “It’s too bad you’re benched. I’d love to see what else you can do up there.”

  If he keeps this up I won’t be able to sit upright, let alone try to ski. “I’m sure I can go out at least once more. But probably no tricks. Coach Brown will be pissed enough that it’s sprained. I could miss the entire season if I blow it out.”

  “Maybe we could do something that doesn’t require us to stand up?”

  I pull back, feeling like he smacked me. “What?!”

  “What?” Realization of what he implied dawns across his face and he sits up straight. “No! No! Tubing!” He runs a hand over his face, which quickly turns an adorable shade of crimson. “There’s a place not far from here and I thought...” he trails off, his hand still covering his face. “I’m such an ass. I’m sorry.”

  A giggle works its way up my throat as relief sweeps through me. Five seconds ago I thought he’d trashed whatever we had going here. “You know, I hang out with a lot of guys so I’m used to innuendo, but holy inappropes.”

  He’s still not looking at me so he doesn’t see my smile. “Cally. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I—” he drops his hand and I poke him in the chest, smiling. He exhales and slumps against the back of his chair.

  “I’d love to go tubing, but do you think I need protection?” I pause as his jaw drops, unable to stop my shit-eating grin. “For my knee?”

  He shakes his head and tilts it back so he’s looking at the ceiling. “What did I get myself into?” An alarm goes off on his phone before I can answer. “Oh shit, I gotta go.”

  Disappointment chases my smile away. What if he set that alarm while he was getting the hot chocolate s
o he’d have an escape?

  He turns off the alarm and leans forward so our knees are touching. “Family stuff. So Cally, will you please do me the honor of flinging yourself down a hill on a piece of inflatable plastic with me?”

  A bubble of excitement pushes away my self-doubt. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Please tell me that wasn’t sarcasm.”

  I wink, and my heart’s beating so loud I’m sure he can hear it. This is so not me. “Not a chance.”

  “Is nine too early?”

  “I’m on east coast time so that’s sleeping in for me.”

  “You staying here?”

  I nod.

  “Perfect. I’ll pick you up in front of the lodge.” He slowly lifts my hand to his lips. My breath catches as he presses a kiss to the back of my hand. “See you tomorrow.”

  “B-bye.” I stammer, as he drops my hand.

  I watch as he strides to the door. Several girls turn to stare, then whip back toward me with jealousy in their eyes. I’m used to girls wondering what makes me so special that I’m hanging out with the hot guys, but for once I’m as puzzled as they are.

  I pull out my phone. Sophia’s text And you’re having his babies when? is still marked as unread so I fire off an answer. Soon...

  Slope Rule #3: When the perfect opportunity lands in your lap, you hang on.

  “You’re riding in a car with him? Alone? Do you even know his last name?” Dad paces the small living room of our rented condo.

  I scroll through my phone to find him. “McMillan.”

  “And he’s from California?”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Dad, he helped me yesterday, then waited around to make sure I was okay when he could have been back on the slopes. If that doesn’t tell you that he’s a good guy...” I stop. There’s a fine line with Dad. Push too far and he thinks you’re hiding something, but don’t give a convincing enough argument and he’ll never approve. I’m slowly figuring out the balance but I’m worried he won’t give in this time.

  “Text me as soon as you get on the road. Then the moment you arrive at the tubing park. And be sure to tell me the name of the place.” He throws out rules as they come to him, pointing at me as he strides across the room. “And I want you back by dinner time.”

  I smile. I’ve got him beat here. “Blake has to be with his family by three so I’ll be back before then.”

  “Oh. Well, okay then.”

  I hobble to my feet and he scowls at my knee. “Thanks, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful. And if he tries anything inappropriate I’ll kick him with my good leg.” I kiss Dad on the cheek, then take care to walk as normally as possible, but once I’m outside I pause to regroup. The lodge is on the opposite end of the parking lot but it feels like it’s miles away.

  The door clicks behind me. “Need a ride to your ride?”

  I turn and face Dad. “Thank you.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t tell me how much your knee hurts. And I’d like to meet this boy again.”

  I fall in step next to him. “Understandable.”

  “I’m letting you go because I trust you, but I want you to know how hard it is for me to let you drive off with some boy you just met.”

  “He’s not—” I stop. Blake’s the definition of ‘some boy’. And this will be the first time I’ve ever ridden in a car with a boy that isn’t just a friend. “He seems like a good guy. He was even helping some younger kids with their tricks.”

  Dad pauses in front of the car. “And you like him?”

  “For once I’m not just one of the guys. He seems to really like me.”

  He opens the passenger door for me but stops me before I can get in. “He’d be an idiot not to.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool, but my reddening cheeks betray me. I stare at the parked cars as we roll toward the lodge. “Are you trying to get me flustered before I even see him?”

  “Nope, just building your confidence. You have nothing to worry about.” He pulls to a stop behind a silver sedan.

  Blake is leaning against the passenger door and turns when he hears us. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but he’s even better looking than I remember. His hair is still messy, but it’s a purposeful messy, like he spent some time getting it just right, and his blue eyes are as bright as ever.

  Dad nods in his direction. “He’s punctual. That’s a plus.”

  My mouth goes dry. “Uh-huh.”

  He snorts. “I’ll help you out.” He moves to open the door but Blake beats him to it.

  My heart nearly stops when he smiles down at me. “Good morning,” we say at the same time.

  Dad gets out of the car and moves to Blake’s side. He holds out a hand, brows furrowed, his mouth turned into the closest thing to a scowl I’ve ever seen on his face. “I’m Cally’s father.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m Blake. I believe we met yesterday?” They grip hands and do that guy thing where they stare at each other for a second before separating and breaking into smiles.

  “Take care of her. She says she’s okay but it takes a lot for her to admit she needs help.”

  Blake leans toward me and puts a hand under my elbow to support me as I get out of the car. “Yeah, I picked up on that. I promise I’ll throw myself in front of any out-of-control tubers.” He winks at me and my stomach does a backflip.

  Dad points at me and raises an eyebrow.

  I sigh, and press a kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Dad.”

  Blake slips his hand into mine and tugs me toward his car. “Ready?”

  Butterflies carry me the rest of the way.

  Once we’re settled in the car, he points at two paper cups in the center console. “I wasn’t sure if you drink coffee, but I know you like chocolate so I got you a mocha.”

  I lift the cup to my nose and inhale deeply. My eyes drift closed as the aroma fills my nostrils. I already had my requisite two cups with breakfast—despite Dad’s constant protests that it’ll stunt my growth—but there’s always room for more chocolate.

  “I take it that’s a yes?”

  I open my eyes and reach across the console to squeeze his hand. “Double yes.”

  He grins as he pulls onto the road.

  I toss my bag in the backseat and am surprised that the floor mats are dirty and there are a couple umbrellas jammed in the seat pocket. Our rental car is spotless, but this looks lived in. “Whose car is this?”

  My question seems to catch him off guard. “Oh, we, uh, have friends who live here and they let me borrow it. We only have one rental car and my dad needed it today.”

  Something about his voice sounds off, but how do I know what’s normal for him? I haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours.

  He turns the radio to the satellite alternative station I listen to and I bounce in my seat. “I love them! I saw Twenty One Pilots when they came to Burlington last summer!”

  Blake surprises me by singing the words, his voice smoother than I expect, and I can’t help but sing along. By the time we arrive at the tubing place my throat is scratchy and my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Sophia always teases that my true test for a boyfriend will be someone who can tolerate my tone-deaf singing, and either Blake is very gentlemanly, or he actually sees me as more than just one of the guys.

  If you’re ever presented with the opportunity to go tubing with a guy so hot he makes your knees weak, by all means, do it. There are two options at the rental counter: single or double. Take double. Sure the tube is bigger, but there is zero—I repeat, zero—way to ride that thing without some part of your bodies touching. And as we all know, practice makes perfect, so by the sixth or seventh run I’d figured out the optimal way to both protect my knee and make sure the highest percentage possible of Blake’s body was pressed against mine.


  When we go inside for lunch, Blake loops his arm through mine as we hobble our way through the line, then pays and carries our tray to the lounge area. No private table today—we’re jammed at the end of a long table in front of the windows, surrounded by several groups of teenagers and a family of ten all wearing matching ski hats.

  Sophia insisted I keep her posted so I send her a text once we’re settled at a table. I am a smitten kitten. I pop a fry in my mouth.

  Blake rests his head on my shoulder and peeks at my phone. “Who are you texting?”

  I jerk it away before he can see, but can’t stop the blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on my face since we met. “Sophia. My best friend.”

  He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.

  “My dad says we’re joined at the hip. She was supposed to come on this trip with us but her mom got upset at the idea of her being away from home for Thanksgiving and not seeing her grandparents so—” Blake’s eyes grow wider and wider and I realize I haven’t taken a breath. “Sorry. That’s where you’re supposed to say ‘punctuation please.’ It’s a joke with my dad.” Oh my god, Cally, shut up.

  He smiles, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “So you’re pretty tight with your dad?”

  I lean back in my chair. “Yeah. After Mom died, me and Dad kind of became the two musketeers. Dad had always been involved in my life, but suddenly he was solely responsible for an eight-year-old. He made up this buddy system where we could call each other any time, any place, no matter what we needed, and that’s what got us through those first months. The other stuff...” I hesitate, unsure if I should continue. Sophia’s the only one outside the family who knows the rest of this story.

  “What?”

  I glance away for a second. “It’s stupid.”

  His eyes search mine. “I’m sure it’s not. Losing someone is hard.” He pauses like he’s going to say more, then he smiles and the moment passes.

  I barely know this boy but something tells me to trust him. I take a breath. “I refused to ride on the left side of cars since that’s the side Mom was on when she died. Technically, I still don’t, but I don’t tell people why. And when I’m with Dad he’s driving so he doesn’t notice.”