Chapter Nineteen
NATALIA
The cold hit my face as Zack and I stepped out of the café. A reminder after spending a couple of hours in the warm café that I’m not in Arizona anymore.
"Thank you for coming," he says, and I can hear the hope threaded through his words. "Did you have fun tonight?"
"I did. I needed this," I say, because I really did.
"Zack!"
A group of three materializes from the direction of the village center—two men and a woman, all around Zack's age, just a few years younger than me, if I had to guess, bundled in the same red lodge wear Zack wears when he’s on the job. They must all work for the ski resort too.
"Hey!" Zack's face brightens. "Guys, this is Natalia. Natalia, this is Kyle, James, and Sophie."
Kyle and James offer friendly waves. Sophie's eyes flick to me for a millisecond before landing on Zack and staying there.
I know that look. It's a guarded, careful hunger disguised as friendship. The way someone holds themselves when they want something they're afraid to reach for.
"We're heading to Star for sushi," Kyle says. "You guys should come."
Zack turns to me, and the hope in his expression obvious. "What do you think? Best sushi in the village, I promise."
Sophie's gaze finally meets mine just briefly, too shy to look too long before sliding away. She shifts her weight, crossing her arms in a way that might look casual if I didn't spend my life reading body language. Her smile is more forced than natural.
She doesn't want me to say yes, and woman to woman, I understand exactly why.
"I—" I start, and I see Sophie's shoulders tense. "You know what… that sounds really great, but my ankle is starting to kill me. And I'm exhausted. Rain check?"
The relief that washes over Sophie's face is so subtle I almost miss it. Her posture softens. Her smile becomes something closer to genuine.
Zack's face fell. "Are you sure? We could—"
"You should go," I say firmly. "Really. I need to soak in the hot tub anyway, or I won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"At least let me walk you back," he offered. "It's dark."
"It's a five-minute walk through a tourist village, not Central Park at midnight." I offer a smile to soften the rejection. "Go have fun with your friends. I’m sure I’ll see you around later."
Sophie is very carefully not looking at either of us now, studying her boots with intense focus.
Zack doesn't move. He's the kind of man who was raised right, taught to walk women home, to hold doors, to make sure everyone gets home safe. It's sweet. It should be attractive… It is attractive.
He’s just not for me. He’s for someone else… and I think I know who.
"Seriously, Zack. Go." I touch his arm briefly, a friendly gesture. Nothing more. "Thank you for tonight. It was really nice to get back out for a bit. I was getting cabin fever."
He hesitates, then nods. "Text me when you get back? Just so I know, you made it?"
"I will."
Kyle is already checking the wait time for Star Sushi on his phone. James is debating appetizers. And Sophie is standing very still, her entire body oriented toward Zack like a compass finding north.
He has no idea, not even a clue. It’s totally on brand for him. There’s something so wholesome and good about Zack.
I wonder how long she's felt this way. How many group outings she's endured, hoping he'd finally see her.
How it feels to watch him show interest in someone else, someone who's only here for two weeks, someone who's going to leave and take nothing with her except a good story about the cute ski instructor.
"Goodnight," I say to the group, and receive a chorus of responses. Sophie's is the quietest, but her eyes, when they meet mine for a second time, hold something that might be gratitude. I flash her a wink. Maybe she understands, maybe she doesn’t, but it doesn’t matter as long as Zack sees it tonight.
I turn and start walking before Zack can reconsider.
The village glows with warm light. The shops are still open, and couples are strolling arm in arm. My breath clouds in the frigid air. My ankle is sore from wearing these boots, which wasn't a lie, but it's manageable. I've worked on worse.
Zack is kind. He's attractive in that wholesome, outdoorsy way. He makes me laugh. He'd probably be an excellent boyfriend. He's attentive, thoughtful, the type to remember anniversaries and plan meaningful dates. Not to mention that we’re both from Arizona.
The trouble is I feel absolutely nothing romantic towards him, and I’m not going to force it. I didn’t come here to work on my love life. I came here to save my career.
He deserves someone who looks at him the way Sophie does. With that quiet, desperate hope. That willingness to wait, to endure proximity to the person you want but can't have, just to be near them.
I’m beginning to relate… I think.
Same stupid problem. A different, infuriating man.
Luka's face flashes through my mind. The way he looked through the café window. The way he kept walking.
The way I can't stop thinking about that moment, replaying it like footage I'm analyzing for a client. What did it mean? Why do I care so much?
This is exactly why I said no to sushi. Why I walked away before Zack could read the truth on my face.
I'm not available—not emotionally and certainly not mentally.
I'm tangled up in something messy and complicated with a man who's all wrong for me, whom I'm supposed to be managing professionally, whom I shouldn't even be thinking about in this way.
But here I am, thinking about him anyway.
The chalet comes into view with the porch light a beacon in this weather. The hot tub calls to me, and I have no intention of ignoring it.
I kick off my boots the moment I walk in, wincing as my ankle protests.
A week of skiing—or more accurately, a week of falling with occasional moments of actual skiing—has left my body with a laundry list of complaints.
My thighs burn. My shoulders ache. There's a persistent twinge in my lower back that suggests I twisted something three days ago during my spectacular wipeout.
I head to the bedroom, dig through my drawer for the black bikini I packed, expecting to use the indoor hot tub and sauna at the resort. Walking out into the cold to get into the hot tub sounds like a near-death experience, but my shoulders are begging for a half hour in the warm, wet heat.
Apparently, tonight I'm choosing danger.
I send off a quick text to Zack because I told him that I would:
I made it back. Thanks for tonight.
I wrap myself in the plush white robe hanging on the back of the door and pad across the kitchen towards the side door that leads to the hot tub under the back porch, bare feet silent on the hardwood.
The sliding glass door to the deck is unlocked. Through it, I can see steam rising into the cold mountain air, illuminated by the soft lights built into the hot tub's edge.
My hand hesitates on the handle, but then I slide the door open anyway. The cold night air hit me first, a chill sliding down my back.
I freeze halfway through the doorway.
Luka’s in the hot tub, arms stretched along the edge, head tipped back against the rim.
His eyes are closed, features relaxed in a way I've never seen them.
In sleep that first night, yes—but this is different.
This is conscious surrender, as if he's trying to drown something in the heat and bubbles.
He looks almost vulnerable like this. The hard edges softened by steam and darkness. His chest rises and falls, and I can’t stop watching like it’s hypnotizing. Water droplets cling to his collarbone, catching the light.
Then his eyes opened.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Something flickers across his face… surprise, I think. As if he expected me to be elsewhere.
"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I didn't know you were out here. I figured you'd be at the bar with—"
"With who?" he asks, his voice rough as if it’s been a long day.
"No one... nothing..." I shake my head, suddenly feeling foolish standing here in my robe, holding it tightly closed. "I just figured you'd be out late."
"I’m not in the mood tonight." His gaze held mine, steady and infuriatingly unreadable.
"Right." I take a step back toward the door. "Well, I'll just go back in and read. Leave you alone."
"There's plenty of room, Bunny Hill."
The nickname makes me roll my eyes automatically, like a reflex I can't control. He knows that I hate it. That's precisely why he uses it.
He shifts slightly, arms still draped along the edge in that cool casualness that Luka does so well. "You're welcome to join me."
I bite my lip, debating. My body is screaming for hot water. My brain is screaming that this is a terrible idea.
"You're sure?" I hear myself ask. "I'm not interrupting anything? You don't have company coming over?"
Something dark and amused crossed his face. "No. No company. It's just you and me."
His eyes drop to my mouth, catching on my teeth pressed into my lower lip as I debate whether this is a bad idea. Heat flares between us, sudden and unmistakable.
This is a bad idea. I untie my robe anyway.
The cold air is shocking against my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and thighs.
I don't have to look up to feel his gaze tracking over me.
The weight of it between us is heavy. The heat of his attention covers every inch of exposed skin, and part of me wants to know what he sees.
More importantly, if he likes what he sees.
I drape the robe over a chair and step toward the hot tub, acutely aware of every movement my body makes, trying to focus my thoughts on the frosty surface under my feet instead of him.
"Still stuck with 'Bunny Hill,' huh?" I try for light as I ease into the water, gasping slightly at the temperature change.