Chapter 5
Chapter five
Penelope
We finish our lunches silently, watching the skiers and snowboarders outside, but being so close to him is all I can think about; his presence.
I don’t think either of us wants to move, or talk, or get back to the lesson. It’s equally comfortable and excruciating to be sitting so close to him, so aware of him.
Finally, he looks at his watch again.
“Want to head back out there?”
I groan and then catch myself. I don’t want to be rude.
But as I flex my ankles in my hard ski boots, my quads and calves complain. He’s watching me with such patience and earnestness, and his words from earlier in the day come back to me.
You’ve paid a lot of money to come out here skiing. It’s your day. Your adventure. They’re paid to make your experience perfect.
I have had a wonderful day. I don’t need to ski anymore.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure my legs could take any more skiing today. But thank you.”
His brow furrows in concern.
“Do your legs hurt?” He reaches for my leg and drags it to his lap before I can protest. But then he’s squeezing my calf, and I moan again in both pleasure and pain.
I shake my head. “I’m just very out of shape.
I don’t think Cara realized just how out of shape I am.
A half-day lesson would have been plenty.
” He’s still massaging my leg as he contemplates what that means for us.
I don’t want to say goodbye to him yet, but I think if I went down the slope one more time, I might not be able to walk to the bus stop.
“Well, then I’ve failed as an instructor.”
“What?! No! You’ve been amazing...”
“I can’t have you driving home on weary legs. That wouldn’t be very responsible of me.”
“What? No...” I start to protest, but he sets my foot back down gently and stands, holding a hand out to me.
“Let’s return your equipment and hit up the hot tub in our dorm.”
“I... I...” Oh, God. My eyes involuntarily trail down his chest as I imagine him in just swimming trunks in a hot tub. I’d self-combust.
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“I’ll lend you some things to wear. Or we could ask one of the girls to borrow theirs.”
I war with myself internally. If we go to the hot tub, I could get more time with him, get to know him better.
And it would really feel good for my sore muscles.
But the cons are trying not to give away just how attracted to him I am.
It’s like he sucks all the air out of the room when he’s fully clothed.
I can’t imagine maintaining my composure with him half-naked.
But my desire for more of this man wins.
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
His smile is triumphant.
We return our equipment, and I follow him to the back of the shops, where the public isn’t allowed to go. I follow him up a set of stairs and through a hallway lined with doors. He pauses at one and scans a key card.
The room is simple. Two identical twin beds with gray sheets, a closet, and an entertainment table with a very old boxy TV.
It’s cute. Simple. But what else could you need?
“Want to borrow some of my clothes? Or I could text one of the girls?”
“Your clothes will be fine. As long as you don’t mind?”
I note the one-sided lilt of his mouth as I imagine him biting back a retort about me wearing his clothes in the morning.
I laugh. “What, are you twelve?”
“Fourteen, I just look old for my age. And I definitely wasn’t having thoughts like this at twelve.”
I laugh again at just how easy he is, and unashamed. You get exactly what you see with this man, and there’s a comforting reassurance about it. He’s not putting on a line to try to get me in bed; he’s not acting or putting on a facade.
He rummages through his closet before giving me a pair of gym shorts and a black tank top.
“These are the smallest things I own.” I nod and take them gratefully. “Bathroom’s in there,” he says, pointing to a door I hadn’t noticed.
I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
I look in the mirror, and the Nell looking back at me is nervous and unsure.
Am I really going to hang out in a hot tub, alone, with a guy I’ve just met?
What if things get awkward? Or heated? Would I let him kiss me?
Would I kiss him first? Oh my God, I’m freaking out.
But then the Nell in the mirror squares her shoulders. I am perfectly capable of soaking in hot water with a gorgeous man. And yeah, if he does kiss me? Hell, yeah. Maybe the Nell that skis is also the Nell that makes out with hot men in hot tubs. I just learned how to ski. I can do anything.
So, I slip out of my clothes and fold them on the small sink, slipping into his basketball shorts and tank top.
Luckily, the shorts have a drawstring, so I can tie them tighter, but the tank top hangs too loose.
If I turn a certain way, I’m sure my entire boob could pop out through the sleeve. Okay, just no moving too much.
I step out of the bathroom to find Daniel, already in his swim trunks, shirtless, with two towels thrown over his shoulders.
“How do they,” he starts as he turns to look at me, but stops himself and throws his head back to stare pointedly at the ceiling.
“Is it bad?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He shakes his head. “No. Nope. It’s good. It’s just... too good. I’m trying to be a gentleman and not check you out like a dog.”
I chuckle. “Which bed is yours?” I ask, and he points to the one to his right, still staring at the ceiling. I set my clothes on the corner of it and swat at his stomach, causing him to ‘oof’ a little and clutch it like it hurt.
“Alright, Danny-boy, where are these hot tubs?”
“She’s wearing my clothes, and I get a nickname?” He motions toward the door, a huge grin splitting his face in two. “Just outside.”
“Are you going to walk the entire way, staring at the ceiling?” I laugh as I open the door and follow his directions.
“Yep. At least until we’re outside, and then I’ll be looking at the sky.”
I can’t help the joy that bubbles up from my chest at this ridiculous man.
And he stays true to his word, even as he struggles to flip the cover of the hot tub off of it because he can’t see where it’s lying.
I step over the side and slide into the water, moaning at just how amazing the hot water feels.
“I’m in, goofy,” I say, letting him know I’m mostly covered under the water.
His eyes drop as he tries to see through the water, but the bubbles and moving water obscure me a little.
“That’s good. I was getting a sore neck.”
I laugh. He climbs in after me, and I make no such attempt not to check him out. I swear he flexes a little extra, just for me, as he steps into the hot water.
And we proceed to talk for hours. We talk about what sports he did growing up, how he’s a river raft guide in this town during the spring and summer seasons.
How my dad struggled as a lumber salesman to put food on our table, but then got promoted, and things started to feel easy.
How, when I was little, if I asked him for anything, I would get a long, belabored sigh in response.
How I understood how hard my dad worked and how tight money was.
I learned to be unbothersome, so I didn’t add to his worries.
How I was excited to have a stepmom and sisters at first, but how they would act cold or indifferent toward me when my dad wasn’t around.
So, I learned to lower my expectations. I couldn’t force them to love me.
I couldn’t force them to like me. And I’d grown up without a mom and sisters, so it wasn’t very different from before.
He slid closer to me during this confession, so we were sitting side-by-side but not touching.
We avoided the topic of his sister and parents, opting to keep things light.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” he asks.
There must be an art to carrying on conversations, because I find my throat almost sore from talking so much, but he’s not slowing down a bit.
He always has a comment, a question, or a relatable story that keeps the conversation flowing between us effortlessly.
Hours flow by effortlessly as we get to know more about each other. He’s funny, witty, smart, and charismatic to a fault.
I blush a little and look down. “I know this sounds stupid,” but as I look back up at him, I know he won’t judge me. He hasn’t judged a single thing I’ve talked about. “I want to be a stay-at-home mom,” I confess.
“Funny, I’ve always wanted a stay-at-home mom.”
And I laugh effortlessly, smacking him on his chest with the back of my hand. He catches it before I can remove it and holds it there.
“Seriously, I think that’s great.”
“I just never had a mother. And I think it would be the greatest job in the world. I just don’t know if it’ll ever happen for me.
I’d need to find a partner who wouldn’t mind that I didn’t bring in an income.
We’d have to be on the same page, and he’d have to make enough for both of us.
It’s a tall order,” I say with a shrug. “And I think it’ll be hard to find. ”
He catches my eye. “You’ll find him. And you’ll pop out half a dozen kids. And be ridiculously happy. It’s what you deserve.”
He kisses the back of my knuckles, and my blush deepens.
I get shy at my confession, his complete faith in me, and the feel of his soft lips on my hand.
He grabs my calf underwater and drags it to his lap, and motions for me to spin to give him the other one. He starts massaging my calves.
“How are your legs feeling?”
“Much better. Thank you.” I’m about to ask how long we’ve been in the hot tub. My fingers are pruney enough, and it seems like the sun is very close to setting. But being in the mountains means the sun sets earlier than it normally would in DC.
He moves to the arches of my feet, and I rest my head back on the side of the hot tub, closing my eyes. I moan long and low. And then something wet and cold lands on my face. I open my eyes to find it snowing.
I gasp. It’s beautiful, and I watch as snowflakes fall around us, gently jostled by the breeze. It’s like our hot tub has been put into a snow globe, and the magic of it overwhelms me.
“God, this was just the best day,” I whisper, watching the snow fall around Daniel, before it lands on his cheeks and shoulders and instantly melts.
But he’s already looking at me.
Deep brown eyes implore me to understand him. “Yes. It is.”