Chapter 16 #2
“Very eloquent, Dr. Kowalski,” I teased, but he meant it.
It was nice. Surprisingly so. A month ago I’d been living in a gray fog, rarely leaving the couch.
Now I was making breakfast for two people who somehow managed to make me want things again, who had crashed into my life and refused to let me keep drifting.
After breakfast, we bundled up in winter gear and headed outside.
The temperature had dropped overnight, but the air was still and clear, the kind of crisp winter day that made even non-snow people appreciate the season.
The snow was as Lucky had guessed, at least a foot deep, pristine and untouched across my yard.
“Okay, snow removal 101,” I headed toward the garage. “I’ve got a snowblower for the driveway, but we’ll need to shovel the walkways and deck.”
“I’ve never used a snowblower,” Wade admitted, following me into the garage. “But that sounds like a me job.”
I pulled the cover off my snowblower, a high-end model my mother had insisted on when I bought the place, and began checking the gas level. “It’s not complicated. Push and steer. But I’ll handle it for now. You two can start on the walkways.”
Wade pouted, but he was too excited to complain, grabbing two shovels from where they hung on the wall, handing one to Lucky.
As I fired up the snowblower, I caught sight of them heading toward the front walkway, already bumping shoulders and laughing.
A longing caught in my chest at the sight, one I tried to tamp down.
I focused on the task at hand, clearing paths through the deep snow.
The rhythm of the work was meditative, and I found myself falling into a flow state I hadn’t experienced in months.
The physical exertion was good, the cold air sharp in my lungs, the satisfaction of seeing clear pavement emerging behind me simple but real.
I was so absorbed in the work that I didn’t notice Wade and Lucky’s approach until a snowball hit me. I killed the engine of the snowblower and turned to find them both standing there, Lucky with another snowball already formed in her gloved hands, Wade trying and failing to look innocent.
“You did not do that.” I fought to keep my expression stern.
“It wasn’t me.” Wade raised his hands. “I’m innocent.”
Lucky’s aim was excellent. The second snowball hit me in the chest, exploding in a puff of white powder. “Oops,” she said, not remotely sorry.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You realize this means war.”
Her smile was pure challenge. “Bring it, Olympic boy.”
What followed was the most ridiculous, childish, and unexpectedly joyful snow fight I could remember having in a long time.
Wade’s size and strength were offset by his terrible aim, while Lucky was quick and precise but easily caught when Wade tackled her into a snowdrift.
I surprised myself with how much I was laughing, how good it felt to play like this, no pressure, no audience, three adults acting like kids in the snow.
By the time the plows had made their second pass on the main road and our driveway was clear, we were all soaked and breathless, cheeks flushed with cold and exertion. Lucky’s eyes were bright with excitement as she brushed snow from her hair.
“We should get going if we want to hit the gear shop,” she said, her breath forming clouds in the cold air. “It’ll get busy when people get excited for snow.”
“I need to shower first.” Wade looked down at his snow-covered clothes. “I’m soaked through.”
“Me too,” Lucky said. “Showers, gear shop.” She turned to me. “You’re coming with us, right? You’re the expert.”
I hesitated, the knot in my stomach tightening again. “I don’t think so. I’ve got some stuff to do here.”
“What stuff?” Lucky’s eyes narrowed.
“Just... stuff,” I said. “You guys go ahead. You don’t need me for this.”
Wade looked at me for a moment, nodded. “Okay. But text if you change your mind. We’ll at Blake’s, right Lucky?”
She nodded, though she was still watching me with that piercing gaze that made me feel like she could see right through my bullshit. “Blake’s has the best selection. And industry discounts,” she said with a smile.
Inside, we separated to our showers. I headed for my master bath, stripping off wet clothes and stepping under the hot spray with a grateful sigh.
As the water warmed my chilled skin, I let my mind wander back to the snow fight, to the way Lucky’s face had lit up with joy, to the sound of Wade’s deep laugh echoing across the yard.
And beneath those memories, the persistent tug of something else, the mountain, so close I could see it from my bathroom window, covered in powder.
The season’s first snowfall used to fill me with a buzzing anticipation, an eagerness to get out there, to feel the board under my feet, to find the ideal line.
Now it filled me with a complicated mix of longing and dread.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Wade and Lucky were already dressed and ready to go, waiting for me in the great room.
Lucky had changed into jeans and a different sweater, while Wade wore his usual flannel and jeans combo that somehow made him seem like a model in a catalog for rugged outdoor wear.
“Last chance to join us.” Lucky slung her purse over her shoulder.
I shook my head. “I’m good. You two have fun.”
Wade crossed the room to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. “We won’t be long,” he promised. “And when we get back...”
“When we get back, the punishment is over.” Lucky approached to give me her own kiss. “So be ready.”
The heat in her eyes sent a jolt straight to my cock, and Wade was thinking the same thing by the way his pupils dilated. Before they were gone, the front door closing behind them with a solid thunk that left the house felt too quiet, too empty.
I wandered into the kitchen, pouring myself another cup of coffee before settling on the couch with my phone. The notification I’d been avoiding all morning stared back at me: a text from Mack, sent late last night:
Back in town next week. Staying at your place? Early season conditions looked prime AF.
I sighed, locking the screen without responding. Mack’s return meant the start of competition season, meant questions about whether I was riding this year, meant explanations I didn’t want to give. And he wouldn’t be alone, Lila would be back too, and the rest of my friends.
The empty house pressed in around me, too quiet without Wade’s constant movement or Lucky’s observations. I missed them already, which was ridiculous given that they’d only been gone for ten minutes. When had I become so dependent on their presence?
I moved to the windows, coffee cup cradled in my hands, and allowed myself to look, truly look, at the mountain rising behind my house.
Fresh snow coated every surface, transforming the familiar slopes into magic and new territory.
The sight of it hit me in the chest, a physical ache of wanting that I couldn’t suppress.
Why was I so afraid of it?
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my mom’s text messages, staring down at the number of a therapist my coach had found who specialized in burnout and depression. My thumb hovered over the number for a beat, before I pocketed the phone and put it away.