The Slope Rules Read online

  Blake’s lower lip pushes out ever so slightly, and I’m momentarily distracted. “I guess we all cope in our own way.”

  I force out a laugh. “Let’s just say I got really good at calling shotgun.”

  He smiles. “And I’m guessing you’re not in a hurry to visit England?”

  “Or Australia or Ireland, or like half the Caribbean Islands.” Part of me thrills that he put two and two together, but isn’t making me feel weird about it. “Fortunately the places with snow all stick to the right side of the road. But enough about me...” I take a huge bite of my burger, making it impossible for me to say another word, and raise my eyebrows at him as I chew.

  He pushes his fries around in the paper basket. “Let’s see. I got my license in September, I hate sushi, and I don’t normally drive that snooze-mobile—”

  “Ooh, what’s your car like?”

  The dark expression from yesterday flashes over his face and I immediately regret asking.

  “I don’t mean that like ‘ooh, what do you drive?’ I’m just curious. I’m hoping Dad gets me a Wrangler for my sixteenth but he hasn’t committed yet.” I slap my hand over my mouth and point at him. Hello, foot-in-mouth disease. “You talk.”

  He takes a sip of his soda and clears his throat. “I didn’t take it that way.”

  I don’t believe him, but I keep my mouth shut.

  “Actually, I have a Wrangler.”

  “For serious?!” I clap my hands and several people turn to stare. I give them a cheesy smile and turn back to Blake, my voice low. “Tell me what color.” If it’s orange, it’s settled. I’m having his babies.

  He takes a bite of burger and chews slowly, making me squirm in anticipation. “I’m kind of afraid to say now.”

  I shrug. “It’s totally not a big deal.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, right. What color do you want yours to be?”

  “Orange.”

  “Huh.” He takes another bite and chews slower than a brontosaurus. Or stegosaurus. The one with the long neck that only eats plants. And now he’s drinking again.

  “You’re killing me smalls.”

  “Sandlot. Nice.”

  That’s it. I pick up a burned fry—I’m not wasting the good ones—and bounce it off his chest. “Why do you hate me?”

  He winks, and my heart races. “I was just thinking how cute our matching Jeeps would be.”

  “It’d be borderline sickening.” My smile fades. “But I have to get over the left-side thing if I ever want to drive one.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “Not ‘til this summer. July.”

  “You’ve got time. Have you practiced at all?”

  I shake my head. “Dad’s forced me into the car a couple times but it didn’t go well.” To say that I had a meltdown would be an understatement. As soon as I put my hands on the wheel, images of Mom getting hit head-on filled my vision and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. According to Dad, I didn’t stop screaming until he pulled me out of the car and dragged me back inside the house. That was two months ago. He suggested seeing a psychiatrist but I convinced him I’ll be okay. “Maybe I need to move to a big city where driving isn’t necessary.”

  Blake rests his elbows on the table and levels his gaze on me. “After the flip I saw you do, I have a hard time believing that you’re scared of anything.”

  “Believe it.”

  “Okay, so no driving. But how do you feel about the left side of the tube?”

  A shiver of excitement ripples through me at the thought of being close to him again. “That I can do.”

  ***

  At the top of the hill, I throw the tube on the ground and crouch behind it.

  Blake squats next to me. “Headfirst?”

  I raise a brow. “Chicken?”

  “Hardly.” He grips the tube, steadying it. “You first.”

  I rest my good knee on the edge and bounce a couple times before flopping onto my stomach. Between my snow pants and the ski jacket that hits my upper thighs, there’s little chance Blake is able to check out my ass, but I can’t help feeling exposed until he flops down next to me. I jostle into him—completely unintentional, I swear—and he pushes off with his feet.

  I scramble for the handles as we rocket over the crest of the hill. “I wasn’t ready!”

  His arm clamps over the middle of my back, keeping me in the tube but upping his chances of getting dumped on the first bump, which we’re quickly approaching.

  “You better hold on!” We hit the bump, catching a little air, and laughter bubbles out of me. Dad’s called me an adrenaline junkie since I was a kid, and he’s totally right. There’s something about flying downhill on the edge of losing control while the wind blows my hair all over the place that makes me feel alive.

  “Oh, shit,” Blake mutters under his breath. He’s still holding the back of my jacket and I tighten my grip to stay on the tube. We hit the ground with a thud. The toes of my boots slam into the packed snow and my teeth smack together. Blake manages to stay on without letting go of me, and he’s definitely closer to my side now.

  I’m still laughing. “You okay?”

  “I didn’t need that kneecap.”

  I glance at him to gauge if he’s hurt, but his dimple is out in full force. He adjusts his position as we fly down the hill, and we pick up speed. He shifts again and the tube spins so we’re sideways with his body closer to the bottom of the hill.

  “What are you doing? You’re going to make us—”

  We hit the next bump and before I can say the word ‘flip’, the front of the tube dips faster than the back, sending me flying into the air. Blake pulls me tight against him and we land hard on the snow. Well, he lands on the snow. I somehow end up on top of him, chest to chest. His arms wrap around me as we come to a stop. My heart’s pounding so hard I’m sure he can feel it through our jackets.

  His eyes search mine. “You okay?”

  I’m super aware of how close we are, is how I am. “I think we lost the tube.”

  He glances down the hill—the tube slides over the next bump and comes to a stop in front of two little kids, who look around before climbing in—then drags his gaze back to mine. They’re so blue it’s like the sky is reflecting inside them—or maybe the sky is so blue because of his eyes.

  I move my arm so I’m leaning on an elbow and he rolls me so we’re both on our sides. His dimple is still on display but I barely notice because his lips part and before I realize what’s happening his head’s leaning in and those perfect lips are pressing against mine. His touch is so soft I’m sure I must be imaging this, but no, Blake, the boy I met yesterday, is kissing me on the middle of a tubing hill.

  My eyes close and my gloved hand drifts to his chest. His hand slides to the back of my head as his lips move against mine. I mimic his movement and wish there was a subtle way I could yank off my glove so I could feel his hair against my skin, but I don’t want to do anything to distract him from kissing me.

  But I don’t have to worry. Shouts erupt from behind us and I open my eyes as Blake tucks me against him and rolls us down the hill. An overloaded tube lands where we just were and hits Blake in the back, pushing us into the snow.

  A flurry of high-pitched squeals bombard us.

  “Oh my god!”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Were you, like, making out?”

  “They were totally making out.”

  I laugh against his chest. “Did that just happen?”

  We push ourselves into a sitting position. Four girls my age stand in front of us, hands on their hips. One of them checks out Blake then catches my eye. “I’d make out with him in the middle of the hill, too. Nice work.”

  A fierce blush rips up my throat and over my face as the girls jump onto their tube and take off down the
hill.

  Blake grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. “Either we jack a tube from the next people or it looks like we’re walking.”

  I slip my hand into his and tug him down the hill. “Come on. We need to do that again.”

  His eyebrows pinch together like he’s not sure which I mean—the kissing or the tubing—but as he walks alongside me, I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I felt so happy.

  “The tube landed on you while you were kissing?” Sophia’s incredulous voice is mirrored by the look of disbelief on her face. Or as much of her face as I can see on video chat. When she gets excited she brings the phone closer to her mouth, which means right now I can basically see her lips, nose, and chin.

  “Not directly on us. Someone yelled so Blake rolled us out of the way.” Remembering his arms around me makes me warm all over and gives me goosebumps. Figure that one out.

  “Best first kiss ever.”

  “I could have done without the group of girls. One of them gave me a verbal high-five for scoring Blake.”

  Sophia rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna need to see a picture.”

  “Tomorrow.” My stomach does a little dance. Blake kissed me again when he dropped me off at the lodge, then invited me to go skiing.

  “Ooh, another date?”

  “He’s taking me to another resort. Someplace less crowded.”

  She frowns. “I thought the ski patrol dude said not to—never mind, look who I’m talking to.” Her eyes brighten. “They can’t keep you off the slopes when it’s only practice. There’s no way you’d miss the chance to canoodle with a bo-o-o-o-o-oy.” She flutters her eyelashes then presses the phone to her chest. Everything goes black.

  “Stop hugging me.”

  Her eyes fill the screen. “I’m just super excited for you. I know how frustrating it was when Jake—”

  “Let’s not.” Jake was new at school this year and I liked him right away. Unfortunately, my group of friends did too so before I could get to know him on my own, I was placed directly in the platonic category. “It’s like they have some code that says no one’s allowed to date me.”

  “That’s why I avoid sports. Makes things much less confusing when it comes to boys.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Not simple, but not complicated. Look at how fast things have happened with Blake now that you don’t have your posse hanging around.”

  I know she doesn’t mean that the way it sounds, but sometimes I think Sophia wishes I wasn’t friends with all the hot jocks in school. It’s not like I’d ever stand in her way if she liked one of them, but since she’s my friend, most of them avoid her romantically, too.

  “You have a point.”

  She rests the phone in her lap so I’m looking up at her. “Have fun with this boy. Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever see him again, right?”

  A knot of worry settles near my heart. Neither of us have said anything about what happens at the end of vacation, but it’s stupid to think this could work. If I was eighteen and getting ready to go to college, maybe, but I’m only fifteen. A sophomore. Long distance romance is not in my future.

  “Cally?”

  “Sorry.”

  “You went inverted on me there.”

  I snort. “Introverted?”

  She cocks her head. “Same difference. So I take it from your silence you don’t think you’ll see him again?”

  “I don’t see how we could. We live on opposite ends of the country. We literally could not live farther away from each other and still be in the US.”

  “There’s always SnapChat.”

  I sigh. “He claims he doesn’t believe in social media.”

  “What is it with boys?”

  I shrug, and she waggles her brows. “Then I suggest you really have fun tomorrow.”

  “Ugh!” I slam my phone onto the bed—my version of throwing a pillow at her head—then pick it back up. “You’re such a slut.”

  “You’re such a prude.”

  A knock at my door startles me. “Dinner in five.”

  “Soph, I gotta go.”

  “I want every detail. And send a picture before I die of curiosity.”

  “Picture I can do. Details, we’ll see.”

  “Prude,” she repeats.

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  ***

  “You sure you don’t want to come to breakfast?” Dad zips up his jacket and grabs his car keys. “I hate for you to be stuck here by yourself.”

  “I’m meeting Blake so I won’t be alone.”

  Dad pauses. “You’re spending a lot of time with him. Maybe both of you should come along so I can see for myself what’s so appealing about him.”

  “Dad, no. We’re just hanging out. Tomorrow we’re both going back to our opposite ends of the country and I’ll never see him again.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  I roll my eyes. “We’re going to lunch, so I don’t need to eat anything now.”

  His brows narrow for a second, then his face returns to its normal mellow expression.

  I smile. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  I fight the urge to check the time on my phone until the door closes firmly behind him. Blake will be here in less than ten minutes. I rush to the bathroom to check my hair for the hundredth time, then slip on my snow pants, grab my skis, and head for the door.

  The silver car from yesterday is already parked outside, and Blake climbs out when he sees me. A broad smile spreads across his face. “You look great.”

  I slowly look him up and down, exaggerating my movements to make him laugh, but instead I send my heart into overdrive. I know plenty of good-looking guys but this is the first time one has stared at me with such.... intensity. We lock eyes and my mouth goes dry. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He winks and moves around the car to take my skis, but pauses before putting them in the trunk. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Cute boy. No parents. Yes, definitely a good idea. “The skiing?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “What were you thinking?”

  My cheeks grow hot and I smile up at him. “Skiing. Totally.”

  He laughs softly and slides my skis next to his snowboard. “So, food first, or should we go straight there?” He walks me to the passenger side and opens my door.

  A girl could get used to this.

  I’m not super hungry but most teenage boys I know need to feed every two to three hours. “Can we grab something on the way?” I climb in and reach for the door but he leans forward and brushes his lips over mine, lingering long enough for my hand to drift to the back of his neck and curl into his hair.

  He mumbles against my lips. “What was the question?”

  “I don’t remember.” I kiss him again, pulling him a fraction closer. Time seems to stand still. I’m always so focused on my goals—skiing, school, being a good daughter—that I rarely allow myself to fully let go. But this boy—I could get lost in him.

  A low rumble sounds between us and I laugh against his mouth. “Food.”

  He pats his belly. “Yeah, it’s been a couple hours since breakfast.”

  We go through the McDonald’s drive-through and he’s inhaling his egg and bacon sandwich before we’re back on the road. My egg white sandwich still sits in my lap, unopened.

  “That was impressive.”

  He crumples his empty wrapper. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  I fold the paper wrapper so I can hold my food without getting my hands greasy, but pause before taking a bite. I may hang out with boys, but I’ve managed to hold on to a few feminine traits. My teeth sink into the sandwich and I let out a groan. Okay, maybe I am more boy than girl. “How far is this plac
e?” I ask, my mouth still full.

  “Oh, uh... I looked it up. It’s not too far. Maybe thirty miles. It’s just on the other side of the mountain.”

  I study him as he drives. He hasn’t checked his phone for directions, yet every turn he’s made it’s like he knows where he’s going. “You seem to know your way around.”

  His eyes dart to me, then back to the road. “Yeah. We visit here at least once a year.”

  “That’s cool.” I lean my head against the seat and watch the mountains crawl by. We have mountains in Vermont but they’re nothing like the Rockies. My whole life I’ve flung myself down icy, narrow trails. These wide, powdery Colorado slopes are like heaven. “What’s it like in Tahoe?”

  His fingers flex against the steering wheel. “Like this, but with a huge lake in the middle. You can see the water from the peaks. It’s pretty cool.”

  “You really know how to paint a picture.”

  He shrugs. “You know how it is. When you live someplace you take it for granted.” He nudges my arm with his elbow. “What’s it like in Vermont?”

  I smile. “Oh, you know. Snowy. Mountainous. With sunny days thrown in here and there.”

  He snorts. “Are you always such a smartass?”

  “Yes.” I take a sip of my drink and try to hold back a smile, but fail miserably.

  He reaches for my hand and slips his fingers through mine. “I like it.”

  All witty comebacks flee my brain when our hands touch. I wish I could bottle the sensation of his skin on mine and how his heat crawls over me.

  We ride in silence until we make the turn off the main road into the resort, and my knee starts throbbing like it knows I’m about to do something stupid. I slide my hand out of Blake’s and slowly rub the tendons around me knee, hoping to be subtle, but he totally notices.

  “Is it hurting?”

  “It’s all in my head. Either that or my dad and coach have it rigged to know when I’m breaking the rules.”

  “We don’t have to go.”