The Group Trip

Chapter 13

Five Years Ago

“Y OU SKI, RIGHT?” MARIANNE asked Chloe.

Chloe shook her head. “I snowboard.”

“Have you ever done it on the East Coast?” Marianne bit her lip. “It’s super icy.”

Chloe shrugged. “We grew up going to Tahoe each winter. I’m pretty comfortable on a mountain.” Chloe stood, pulling up her snow pants. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“What do you know about ski conditions?” Noah asked as he kissed his wife’s head. “You can barely sled down the bunny hill.” Marianne reached up and swept the hair out of Noah’s eyes.

Sometimes Chloe thought Noah and Marianne looked more like siblings than a couple. They had matching soft, brown hair. The same chocolate eyes. The same kind smiles. But maybe that’s what happened to all couples after spending so many years together. They rubbed off on one another, finding it hard to define where one person started and the other ended.

“I can barely sled because it’s so icy,” Marianne said as she leaned her head on Noah’s shoulder. They’d been married for two months and likely hadn’t been more than six inches apart in that entire time.

Over the years, Noah had joined various events—spending weekends partying at Mayfield, nights crammed into the Murray Hill apartment, joining in birthday celebrations. He wasn’t exactly part of the group, but he was basically an honorary member.

But Noah usually skipped the group trips, claiming that Marianne needed time alone with her friends. The thing that Marianne and Noah seemed to understand was that meeting the love of your life at fifteen meant you had to give the other person space to live their life too. It was something Chloe admired about their relationship. The fact that Noah was a safe place to land instead of a constant tether.

But this year, Noah and Marianne got married over Christmas. They had spent a few nights in a hotel near their home but couldn’t afford to take a bigger trip for their honeymoon.

When Luke’s mom said she had a client with a ski house in Vermont and asked if Luke wanted to bring some friends, they were all excited to join. With two teachers’ salaries, Noah and Marianne didn’t have a lot of extra cash, so they decided to come along on this group trip, making it a sort of hybrid friend vacation and delayed honeymoon.

Everyone agreed to give Marianne and Noah the big bedroom at the far end of the house. Mostly because Noah hadn’t stopped kissing various parts of Marianne’s body since they all met up at the airport in Burlington, and it was abundantly clear that separation between multiple walls was necessary.

When they piled into the giant SUV Luke had rented and drove the hour east to Stowe, all crammed with suitcases and skis and giant puffy coats, there wasn’t a silent moment. Even though they’d just been together for Marianne and Noah’s wedding, two months seemed like an eternity to a group of people that functioned best as one unit as opposed to the scattered locations they found themselves in now.

The friends fully embraced the luxury of the house. When they walked inside the modern mountain cabin, everyone echoed the same gasp. Bags were dropped in the two-story entryway with its giant metal chandelier as everyone skipped through the rooms, shouting across the house about the luxuries hidden in every corner.

“There’s a hot tub,” Wyatt yelled.

“This bathroom has a steam shower,” Sloane moaned.

Chloe let her fingers explore the home’s textures, the beautiful blond wood that paneled the entry, the stacked-stone fireplace that extended the entire height of the house, flanked by giant, black-framed windows that provided portrait views of Vermont’s Green Mountains. There were plaid blankets tastefully draped on the back of the matching leather armchairs. And one of those deep, long sofas, that could fit an army and swallow a person whole.

Their first night was spent grilling the steaks the house manager had already stocked in the fridge. Sipping bottles of red wine they could never afford themselves. Roasting potatoes dripping in olive oil until the edges turned a crispy brown and covering them in coarse sea salt. They all ended the night in the hot tub, the full moon illuminating snow-covered mountains as they were surrounded by steam and jets and laughter.

They awoke in their bedrooms, slipping out of giant four-poster beds, as their feet brushed against antique rugs in warm reds and blues, to eat a giant breakfast Sloane happily prepared. Frittata with mushrooms and goat cheese, leftover potatoes pan-fried with rosemary, and spicy Bloody Marys with extra horseradish.

After breakfast they were all eager to explore, to embrace the “Vermont ski vacation” that was a first for the group that usually found themselves crammed into beach hotels or sleeping on each other’s couches. They were pretending to be grown up, as if they could afford a place like this, a life like this.

Once everyone emerged from their rooms, in various stages of dress for a cold Vermont winter, they began discussing plans.

“So you think you’d handle West Coast skiing better?” Noah said as he pulled a knit cap down over Marianne’s eyes.

“Maybe,” Marianne said, sticking out her tongue. “But I’m excited to try something new today.”

“What are you guys going to do?” Chloe asked.

“We’re going snowshoeing,” Marianne said with more enthusiasm than anyone should ever express about walking around in clunky boots. “We’ll meet you guys at the lodge after those guys finish their competitive ski expedition.” Marianne pointed across the kitchen island to where Luke and Wyatt were hunched over a map.

Luke and Wyatt were up before anyone else in the house, checking snow reports and mapping out their plan of attack on the mountain. They seemed to be extra competitive these days. Now that they were living in different cities, their catch-up sessions occasionally veered into comparison battle territory. Chloe watched as the two friends, once inseparable, seemed to only focus on their differences. Wyatt was immersed in his new life in DC, throwing around insider knowledge about Hill debates none of them seemed to fully understand, while Luke couldn’t help dropping obscure insights about market movements. Sometimes, when they were going back and forth like they had over cocktails the night before, Chloe wanted to scream None of this matters , except, she supposed, to them it did. She just didn’t know why.

Chloe hoped this week in Vermont would fix whatever insecurities seemed to be lingering under all of that competitive testosterone. She sipped coffee while they continued their debate about whether they should start on the blue runs with Chloe or just skip straight to the black diamonds.

“What about you guys?” Chloe asked Sloane and Alden, who were reading books on opposite ends of the couch.

“I do not ski,” Sloane said. “I’m from Atlanta.”

“That doesn’t seem like a real reason,” Chloe said. “Luke is also from Atlanta and …” Chloe trailed off as she pointed in Luke’s direction and he mumbled something about the best runs with moguls.

Sloane placed a bookmark in her book and said, “I was not raised by an intense mother who insisted I learn every sport where potential business deals can be negotiated.”

Although Sloane was right—Luke’s mother was the most intense person Chloe had ever met—Chloe never would have said that out loud. Everyone knew Luke could be extra sensitive about his family, especially his mother.

“Too harsh, Sloane,” Alden said, nudging her foot on the couch.

“Sorry, Luke,” Sloane said.

Chloe smiled. Because Sloane was always quick to apologize, especially when she realized that maybe the bluntness that came so naturally to her wasn’t always appreciated by her audience. Chloe liked the fact that Sloane embraced who she was but also had an awareness of her faults. And Alden’s role in this particular interaction didn’t go unnoticed by Chloe. Although she’d be reluctant to admit it, Sloane looked to Alden as a barometer of sorts. He was usually reserved, but when he spoke up, especially to Sloane, she always listened.

“But not untrue,” Luke shrugged. “I was in golf lessons at eight.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket off an entryway hook. “There are going to be zero business discussions today. This is all about fun. I’m ready to forget work and ski. Can we head out?”

“Sloane, are you staying here by yourself?” Chloe asked.

Alden shook his head. “I need to get some work done. I’m going to stay back too.”

“What are you guys going to do all day?” Marianne asked. “We’ll be gone for hours.”

“I am going to do this,” Sloane said, holding up her book and snuggling deeper into the couch. “And I am very happy about it.”

“Okay, we’ll see you two for dinner,” Noah said, ushering everyone out the door.

Driving to the ski lodge, unloading the gear, and getting everyone set up with rentals took longer than Luke would have wanted. Chloe noticed his antsy glances at his watch. The way he rocked back and forth as Noah and Marianne debated which snowshoe rental package they wanted to purchase.

“Why don’t you and Wyatt go ahead,” Chloe said. “I can figure out my snowboard rental and meet up with you guys later.”

“Are you sure?” Luke asked at the same time Wyatt said, “We’re in no hurry.”

Chloe laughed. “I’m sure. I’m going to start on some of the easier runs anyway. I’ll text you when I’m at the top of the mountain.”

Wyatt seemed to hesitate, but Luke quickly kissed her cheek and went out the door.

When Wyatt looked over at Chloe as he slowly shuffled toward the exit, Chloe mouthed I’m fine and went back to helping Marianne try on a pair of rental boots.

Twenty minutes later, Chloe was starting down the first slope. There was a muscle memory to snowboarding, and immediately Chloe felt the joy of being twelve, the freedom of flying down a mountain alone, when really her father was always right behind her, watching to make sure she didn’t wipe out. It made her miss her family. She pulled out her phone to take a picture to text her brother, but she had no service.

Chloe eased down the slope, quickly realizing that Marianne was right. The mountain was icy. Chloe found herself picking up speed, the crisp crunch of her board’s edge cutting against the packed runs. When a group of middle schoolers cut in front of her, Chloe veered to the right to avoid mowing through a pile of kids. But she hit a sharp shard of ice and lost control. All of a sudden, she was flying into the woods, narrowly missing the trunk of a tree, as branches whipped against her face. She tried to slow down, maneuver herself away from an even worse crash, but with the slap of each evergreen, more snow fell on her head, covering her goggles. Somehow, she slowed enough to finally land with a thud in the densely wooded forest.

She sat for a moment, looking over her shoulder, and saw that she’d gone farther off course than she initially thought. She couldn’t help but laugh. Even when she was first learning to snowboard, she hadn’t crashed in such a spectacular manner. Chloe unsnapped her board, ready to hike back to the slope, but winced as she tried to maneuver her left foot. In all the adrenaline of narrowly missing the kids and then epically crashing herself, Chloe must have twisted her ankle.

She hoped it was minor enough that she could hobble out of the woods, knowing she had no phone signal. When she tried to stand, she immediately collapsed back on the ground. The pain was shooting up her entire leg, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to put any weight on her foot. It was too far to army crawl, so Chloe did the only thing she could think of doing: she lay in the snow and closed her eyes, trying to will away the tears. What a mess.

“Odd place for a nap,” his deep voice echoed.

Chloe’s eyes snapped open, and the first thing she saw was Wyatt’s beaming smile hovering over her.

“What are you doing here?” She sat up and tried to brush away the snow and embarrassment.

“I wanted to join your off-road expedition.” Wyatt stuck his poles in the snow and leaned against a tree.

“Seriously, Wyatt. How did you find me?”

“I was at the top of the slope. I saw those prepubescent terrors almost take you out. It just took me a few minutes to catch up to you because I didn’t want to decapitate myself going fifty miles an hour through a forest.”

“I think I almost died.” Chloe said, leaning back into the snow.

Wyatt reached down and extended his hand, pulling Chloe back up to seated. “I think you almost hurt yourself,” he said.

“No. I did hurt myself. I did something to my ankle.”

“Let me check it out.” He popped out of his skis and bent down to look at Chloe’s feet. He gently ran his fingers around the outside of her snow boot and tried to move her foot to the side, but she yelped in pain.

“Can you walk on it?” he asked, his eyebrows bunched together.

“I don’t think so.” The reality of the situation hit Chloe. It was day one, hour one of their ski trip and she was injured in the forest. Not ideal.

“Alright. Leave your board,” he said, stacking his skis next to her board. “I’ll come back and grab our stuff. We can walk out. Wrap your arm around my shoulder.”

“How far are we from the slope?”

He bit his bottom lip as he estimated. “Maybe half a mile.”

She groaned. “What are we going to do when we get back to the slope?” The whole situation seemed hopeless.

“Flag down ski patrol,” Wyatt said reassuringly. “You are not the first injured snowboarder they have seen.”

“I’m lucky you were watching me,” she said.

When he nodded solemnly and didn’t reply with some sarcastic comeback, Chloe felt guilty. He seemed genuinely concerned. And although her ankle was throbbing, maybe she had overplayed the drama of the situation.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I probably just need some ice.” She playfully poked his side with her free hand. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, Chloe,” Wyatt said softly.

She felt so vulnerable in that moment. After her parents died, she had been so grateful for the support of her friends. But after a few years, her feelings shifted. She started to feel like their pet project, the sad lonely one who needed coddling. Some days she felt like she needed to convince her friends that she was strong again. Sometimes she felt like she needed to convince herself of the same thing.

“Maybe Marianne was right. I can’t handle this icy New England skiing,” Chloe said, hoping to deflect Wyatt’s comment.

“I think you can handle just about anything. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.” Wyatt’s grip tightened around her waist. He lifted Chloe as they walked, her injured foot barely brushing against the ground.

“Thanks, Wyatt. You’re a good friend.” She swallowed as she said the words. She’d known Wyatt for years, but they rarely had these types of conversations, just the two of them. And they never had these types of conversations with Wyatt’s body pressed against hers, his strong arms practically carrying her through the snowy woods.

“Yep. A good friend,” he said slowly.

There was a moment of silence, that she immediately filled with an overly chipper question. “So how do you like DC?”

“I like it,” Wyatt said with a small smile. “I miss you guys, but I needed a fresh start. DC feels like the place I’m meant to be.”

When Wyatt ran into their apartment last year, with news of his offer at Granite , the political site that exploded after the last election, they all celebrated. But they also knew what that meant. Wyatt was leaving.

“And your writing?” Chloe asked. “How’s that big project coming along?” Over the years, Wyatt was always working on his own project in addition to his reporting and freelance jobs. A novel? A short story? Alden and Luke joked that it was probably a collection of poems. None of them were ever sure because Wyatt was fiercely protective of his work.

“It’s coming along.” Wyatt said, not elaborating.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? It will help pass the time for your poor, injured friend as she hobbles through the forest.”

“Nice try,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “I’m not ready to share any details. But it’s something that I’ve been thinking about for a while. And this last year has really put things in perspective. It’s clear where the story is going.”

“It’s a story!” she said, excited about this reveal of information. “Not a comic book? Or a sonnet?”

“You guys are ridiculous.” He bent down to clear a low-lying branch. “It’s a novel.”

“Will you let me read it?” She turned toward him, taking a break in a walk that was much more difficult than anticipated with only one working foot. “When you’re ready?” she quickly added.

He took a deep breath, seeming to consider her question, before ultimately nodding slightly. “Yes,” Wyatt said, and dusted some fallen snow off the top of Chloe’s head.

The rest of their walk was mostly silent. Wyatt seemed somber. Somehow, agreeing to something as simple as letting Chloe read his writing clouded his mood.

When they got back to the slope, her foot throbbed and her arm tingled from its immobile position clinging around his neck. He had basically carried her the entire time, through the deep, fluffy snow of the wooded area off-trail, and his brow was damp from the effort. But not once did he complain or slow down.

Chloe and Wyatt spotted a skier coming downhill. Wyatt waved his arms to get his attention and then turned to Chloe. “I’ll ask this guy to send up ski patrol. When they’re here, I’ll go back for your board. They should be able to wrap your ankle back at the lodge.”

None of these things were revelations, but Chloe was comforted by each of Wyatt’s statements. The disaster she had created was fixable. Wyatt had a plan.

When the skier approached, Chloe broke into a wide smile. As he approached, Chloe recognized his tall form shadowed against the crisp, white hill. Of course, the jacket Luke had purchased last week was immediately recognizable too, the bold blue that Chloe knew suited him perfectly the minute he tried it on in the store.

“What happened to you two?” Luke asked. He was out of breath, his cheeks flushed from a morning of intense skiing.

“I narrowly avoided a pack of children and crashed,” Chloe admitted. “Wyatt helped me out of the woods.”

Luke laughed. Chloe supposed it might have been funny if she hadn’t just hobbled a half mile through the woods with a throbbing ankle. She managed a half smile in Luke’s direction, mostly to overcome her embarrassment.

“Can you go get ski patrol?” Wyatt asked. There was zero amusement in his voice. “I’ll stay with Chloe.” Wyatt’s hand was still around her waist, a needed support for her unsteady balance.

“Nah, I’ll give her a ride downhill.” Luke shuffled toward Chloe. He positioned a ski on either side and backed toward her, bent slightly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Wyatt tried to dismiss Luke’s suggestion. He gestured toward her foot as he continued, “She’s injured.”

“Chloe’s used to riding on my back. Hop on, babe.”

Chloe wasn’t sure if she was even capable of hopping at this point. But Luke seemed insistent. He kept looking over his shoulder, seemingly impatient with her delayed response. Chloe knew that Luke could easily carry her down and probably do it safely. He’d been skiing since he was a toddler. She also dreaded the spectacle that a ski patrol visit would necessitate.

“Do not drop me, Luke.” When Luke grinned in response, Chloe playfully poked his back. “I’m serious.”

“I’d never,” he said, winking. Chloe slowly maneuvered herself onto his back and Luke handed his ski poles to Wyatt. “Can you bring these down for me?”

Wyatt didn’t respond other than shaking his head and looking up the mountain.

Luke gripped the backs of Chloe’s thighs tightly, running his hand upward and blatantly fondling both butt cheeks. Although, through long underwear and snow gear, it was difficult to achieve any real fondling. But still, as Luke started slowly skiing downhill, balancing Chloe on his back and making jokes about sending a video to Chloe’s brother, she couldn’t help but laugh.

She turned her head to look back at Wyatt, who seemed to have a nervous look on his face. Chloe gave him a subtle wave and mouthed thanks . Wyatt replied with a tiny nod before he turned around and walked back into the woods.

By the time Wyatt made it down the mountain, carrying Chloe’s snowboard, she was being attended to by two ski patrollers, who had carefully removed her boot and were icing her ankle. Luke had a hot toddy in his hands, and Marianne and Noah were ordering a fondue appetizer while Chloe was acting out a reverse-harem fantasy of having multiple men attend to her every need.

Wyatt shook off the snow and walked over and sat by Chloe. He immediately asked the ski patroller holding Chloe’s ankle, “Is it a break? Should we take her to the ER?”

“Nah, just a sprain. Ice and elevate. She should be fine.”

“Thanks for the rescue, Wyatt.” Chloe reached out and accepted the hot toddy from Luke. She took a sip and immediately felt better. Chloe wasn’t typically a whiskey person, but something about being surrounded by all the wood and stone and leather of the lodge, plus the fire, plus the injury, made whiskey seem ideal.

“She’s lucky you saw her,” the ski patroller said. “That part of the trail is so wooded. You can get lost in there.”

Chloe took a sip of her cocktail and leaned back while the ski patroller continued wrapping her ankle. The fire was warm, the attention was delightful, and there was a hot tub back at the lodge. Despite the accident, things weren’t too bad. “I am very lucky,” Chloe said.

Luke sat at her side and absently rubbed her shoulders as he started sipping his own cocktail. “Want to go for one more run, Wyatt?” Luke asked.

Wyatt’s eyebrows drew together. “Don’t you think we should get Chloe back?”

“It’s only lunchtime. She’s okay hanging out, right, Chloe?” Luke squeezed her shoulder twice, before downing his drink in one large gulp.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Chloe shrugged. “As long as Marianne and Noah share their food with me. You guys have fun.”

“I think we should head back,” Wyatt said.

“I’ll make it quick. I didn’t get to do the last black diamond, and Chloe’s not going to be able to get out tomorrow. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, okay?” Luke leaned down and kissed Chloe’s cheek, walking out of the lodge before anyone else responded.

Marianne and Noah were avoiding eye contact, but Wyatt stared intently. Chloe didn’t feel like defending Luke to Wyatt, but that’s exactly what she did. “Luke’s been looking forward to skiing. Work has been intense. He needs to have some fun.”

“I thought being together was the fun part,” Wyatt said and walked toward the bar.

Chloe sat across from Marianne and Noah, their semi- honeymoon bliss undeterred. Chloe felt the immense roundness of being a giant third wheel, unable to move with a bum ankle, trapped at a table with two people whose lips were constantly millimeters apart.

When the waitress delivered the giant fondue tray, overflowing with focaccia and pretzel bites and crusty pumpernickel, bubbly cheese, and vegetables that seemed completely unnecessary, Marianne and Noah didn’t even glance at the food. They were too hungry for each other.

“Pass me a hunk of bread,” Chloe shouted as she reached for a fondue fork. Like most things in life, this day was something cheese and carbohydrates could fix and Chloe wasn’t going to let the food go to waste.

One hour later, after Luke’s single run had turned into two more, Wyatt had disappeared into the lodge library, and Marianne and Noah had wandered off to explore , which sounded like a code word for something dirtier, Chloe finished off the fondue platter. By herself. Her stomach was solid Gruyère at this point. It took two trips, but they piled their gear into the rental car, and Luke carried Chloe to the front seat. She wasn’t sure if it was the ibuprofen the ski patroller had given her or the hot toddy in the lodge, but when they pulled into the driveway of the ski cabin, the throbbing in Chloe’s ankle was finally easing.

They expected to find Alden huddled over his computer, Sloane snuggled in front of the fire, but when they stormed into the house, Noah carrying Marianne because he wasn’t going to be out-romanced by Luke carrying Chloe, they couldn’t find Sloane or Alden anywhere. Wyatt walked in last, dumping gear in a giant pile in front of the door and shouted for Alden to come help with the second load. But there was no response.

Initially, they assumed that Sloane and Alden had headed into town for some shopping, but they quickly realized that was impossible. They didn’t have a car, and Uber drivers were as hard to find as cell signals.

“Maybe they went for a hike?” Marianne suggested.

“Sloane avoids all physical activity,” Wyatt accurately pointed out.

“Try Alden’s phone,” Chloe suggested. Luke went to the window, the one spot in the house where they could make phone calls, and dialed Alden’s number. They all heard his ringtone and discovered Alden’s phone on the kitchen counter.

Chloe hobbled toward the deck and looked outside, hoping to see tracks or some sign of them. But then she found the wet bathing suits by the back door, the hot tub cover left off, steam rising into the air.

She motioned for everyone to come over and pointed to the soggy pile of discarded clothing. Everyone went silent.

“No way,” Luke whispered.

“It’s not possible.” Wyatt shook his head, his eyes wide.

“They’re off somewhere having sex.” Noah was the one to finally say it out loud.

Marianne elbowed Noah’s side at the same time Luke and Wyatt burst into laughter. Then Luke pointed at the trail of water streaking across the perfect hand-hewn wooden floors. Wyatt started walking and the rest followed, somewhat in a trance. It wasn’t possible, was it? Sloane and Alden?

Chloe always thought Sloane viewed Alden as more of a brother than a friend. They had a closeness that was a bit different from the rest of the group, bonded by a shared childhood in the same Atlanta orbit. Sloane gave off a protective vibe when it came to Alden, and he always seemed to have her back, even when she was acting her most questionable. But romantic? Chloe and Luke often joked about Alden’s not-so-secret crush, but Chloe never thought in a million years Sloane would reciprocate.

Whenever Sloane talked about her future husband (which was more frequent than most normal twenty-four-year-olds, Chloe often thought), Sloane never described a person anything like Alden. And all her past boyfriends were the polar opposite of Alden.

There had to be another explanation. Maybe it was a science experiment that involved wet bathing suits while Alden and Sloane remained fully, completely dressed. Chloe thought there was no way Sloane was willingly naked with Alden.

“I feel like that day in sex ed,” Wyatt whispered.

“What day?” Chloe replied.

“When you’re ten,” Wyatt continued, “and some old lady tells you how babies are made. And then you realize that’s how you were made. And your parents did that. I felt queasy.”

“Do you think this is the first time?” Luke asked.

“We don’t know that anything has happened,” Chloe tried to convince herself. But the rest of her friends looked at her like she was crazy.

“It has to be the first time,” Marianne whispered as they continued, slowly following the trail of water. “They couldn’t have hidden this from us.”

“How bored did they get today?” Noah commented.

Marianne held out her arms, stopping the group’s progress down the hallway. “Maybe it wasn’t boredom.” There was an excitement in Marianne’s voice that Chloe immediately noted as her friend’s ability to turn every scenario into a fairy tale.

“Well, on Alden’s part, of course not,” Luke said. “But Sloane must have been bored out of her mind.”

They all stood immobile, staring at the end of the hallway and the closed door leading to Alden’s room. After a series of nervous glances back and forth, as a pack, they slunk down the hallway and paused. Luke put his ear to the door and immediately pulled it back, a horrified look on his face. Wyatt pushed him aside and took his turn, and then, one by one, they all acted like snooping siblings and listened at the closed door.

The muffled sounds coming from the room told them exactly what was happening between Sloane and Alden while everyone else was on the mountain.

They tried to tiptoe back down the hallway, but it was clear they all wanted to escape the burning inferno their ears were just subjected to as fast as possible.

Chloe leaned against one of the leather barstools that surrounded the kitchen island. Everyone else gathered, forming a circle like King Arthur’s council of knights.

Luke spoke first. “Slow clap for Alden.”

Chloe looked at him sideways. “Stop it.”

“Whatever he was doing in there was obviously well appreciated.” Luke smiled.

“Alden. And. Sloane.” Wyatt let his words hang in the air before he pummeled them all with the most disturbing and obvious observation. “They’re naked. Together. Right now.”

“Let’s stop dissecting whatever is happening behind that door.” Chloe turned around and hobbled toward the fridge, pulling out a selection of beverages.

“What else are we going to do?” Marianne asked, genuinely.

Chloe lined up glasses and started pouring tequila in each one. “Drink to forget.”

“Done.” Wyatt downed his shot first. “Brilliant plan.”

Luke took his shot and winced. “Some images can never escape your brain. Sloane’s wet bikini on top of Alden’s bathing suit is etched forever right here.” Luke rubbed the spot in the middle of his forehead. Chloe felt a shudder of sympathy travel through her body.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Noah said, looking around at the somber faces surrounding the marble island. Everyone turned and stared at Noah. Because he was so wrong. For a group of friends who had delicately navigated Chloe and Luke’s relationship over the years, adding another romantic entanglement to the mix was a very big deal.

Chloe instantly remembered the spring of her junior year when she and Luke briefly broke up. It had taken months for her to trust Luke again, but it had taken even longer for the group to find their rhythm again. Whatever happened between Sloane and Alden, even if it was only once, was going to change them. There was no avoiding it.

Chloe looked over at Luke, wondering if he was also thinking of those months they had spent apart. If he was thinking about how every fight they had was difficult to keep between the two of them. The side-picking was inevitable, and most of the time it only made their fights worse, but sometimes it felt like the toll they had to pay for their relationship to continue alongside the friendships that meant so much to both of them.

When no one spoke, Noah seemed to realize the idiocy of his statement. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of a big deal.”

Marianne reached in front of him and grabbed Noah’s shot along with her own, downing both of them in quick succession.

“More shots?” Chloe asked. Early afternoon heavy drinking was never a good idea, but necessary under certain circumstances. Naked Sloane and Alden were those circumstances.

Luke, Wyatt, and Marianne quickly nodded while Chloe barely waited for a response before she started pouring.

Noah shook his head no. “I’m going to focus on food for you guys. Luke, hand me the keys. I’ll run into town and pick up some pizzas.”

Luke tossed the keys over the kitchen island, and Marianne managed a small wave to Noah before turning back to Chloe and debating when and how Sloane first lost her clothes around Alden.

“I want olives,” Wyatt shouted as Noah closed the front door. Chloe could hear Noah start the car as Luke grabbed a bottle of red wine from the pantry.

Their theories diverged, Luke and Wyatt adamant that this was a one-time event, Chloe and Marianne not so sure. All of them were shocked they were even discussing this possibility.

By the time they had finished the first bottle of wine, Alden walked into the kitchen. “Oh. You guys are back. When did that happen?” Alden asked.

Chloe felt herself blush on Alden’s behalf. They had told him that they’d be back in time for dinner. There’s no reason Alden or Sloane should have expected them now. Chloe’s injury meant they had left the mountain much earlier than expected.

Alden shifted his weight from side to side. It was clear that he wasn’t sure how much they knew, and so they all stood there in an uncomfortable silence, waiting to see who was going to speak up first. Luke was more than happy to interrupt.

“We were here for the ‘aahhh’ and ‘ooooh,’” Luke said. And then Luke and Wyatt performed their version of Meg Ryan in the deli faking an orgasm.

“Shit,” Alden mumbled.

About that time, Sloane rounded the corner, wrapped in one of the luxurious Turkish cotton bathrobes that were stocked in every bathroom. She was humming. Even if they hadn’t overheard exactly what was happening behind that closed door, the sound of Sloane humming would have alerted all of them that something drastic had just happened. Humming required a cheerfulness that was never a part of Sloane’s default state of being. It required extenuating circumstances. In this case, Alden.

“Hello,” Sloane stuttered and then immediately recovered. “I just had the most amazing bath. What have you been up to, Alden?”

“Alden seems to be up—” Wyatt started to say, but Alden cut him off before he could finish.

“They know, Sloane,” Alden said.

“Know what?” Sloane walked over to the fridge and pulled out a can of sparkling water.

“That you guys just had sex,” Marianne scream-whispered.

Sloane tried to muster her best perplexed face, shrugging in a shocked yet overdramatic manner. “Alden must have been watching a movie. I’ve been in the bath.”

Luke held up Sloane’s bikini top in one hand and Alden’s bathing suit in the other. “Did you strip down for the bath with Alden?”

“Sloane, they know,” Alden repeated. “We need to admit what’s going on.”

“Wait. Going on?” Chloe couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “You mean this has happened before?”

“I did not want to do this yet,” Sloane sighed, slumped on a stool, and reached for Chloe’s glass of wine, taking a long sip.

“I know. But it’s time.” Alden walked around the island and squeezed Sloane’s shoulder. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, everyone loudly gasped.

Sloane looked up into Alden’s eyes. “You know what happens once we tell them.”

“It’s already happening,” Alden said before he kissed Sloane again.

Sloane pulled her mouth away from Alden’s and said, “Okay. Yes. Alden and I had sex. Who’s in charge of dinner tonight?”

This wasn’t new information. Chloe and Luke and Wyatt and Marianne had taken turns pressing their ears against the door. They all knew this had happened. And yet hearing this admission suddenly made it one thousand times more real.

“That’s not going to be enough information for this pack of wolves,” Wyatt understated.

“Are you dating?” Chloe asked.

“Have you had sex before?” Marianne added.

“Alden. Dude. Nice.” Luke fist-bumped Alden. In a reflexive response, Alden reciprocated the bump, but Sloane scowled at the gesture. Like magnets, Alden’s eyes connected with Sloane’s.

“Sorry, babe,” Alden replied.

“Babe? You call Sloane babe?” Chloe asked. “And she’s okay with it?”

“Enough.” Sloane opened a kitchen cabinet and got her own wineglass. She opened a second bottle, poured herself a generous glass, and resumed her seat at the kitchen island. “We are not specimens under a microscope. We had sex today. We’ve been having sex for months. Now, can someone please tell me about the dinner plans. I’m starving.”

“You worked up an appetite,” Luke said. Unrestrained chuckles escaped from Wyatt’s mouth, and then they were all laughing.

“So it’s a sex thing?” Chloe asked, still probing this foreign situation. “That’s it?”

Alden’s eyebrows jumped. Sloane rolled her eyes. “Fine,” Sloane sighed. “Tell them.”

“I love her,” Alden blurted. “I have loved her for a very long time and I finally wore her down.”

Immediately, four sets of eyes turned toward Sloane. Because sex was one thing, but love—none of them, not Chloe or Marianne or Wyatt or Luke, ever imagined what was going on behind that door was anything close to love.

Sloane smirked. “I love him too.”

Marianne cheered, always ready to celebrate love, especially when it involved two of her best friends, but it took the rest of them a few moments of silence.

Because Sloane didn’t love lightly. She’d liked boyfriends in the past. She’d expressed affection for her parents. But not once had Sloane ever said she loved another person. Not even when Marianne was in one of her teary drunk moods and babbling about how much she loved everyone, did Sloane ever reciprocate those words, even to placate a tipsy Marianne. The fact that Sloane had just admitted she loved Alden with such confidence and conviction, no hesitation in her statement, was the most sobering moment of the night.

If it was love that was going on between Alden and Sloane, it really did change everything. Chloe was happy for her friends. Initially, the pairing seemed strange, but the more she thought about Sloane and Alden, the idea of opposites attracting seemed to ring true.

The first night after discovering Sloane and Alden together, everyone kept staring at them. For Chloe, it was almost like studying animals at the zoo. Sloane and Alden still ate food, but strangely, Sloane wiped a smudge of sauce off Alden’s lip. And then kissed him. Chloe choked on her giant gulp of wine.

The subtle changes throughout the week were the most unsettling. Each person was assigned a different night to be in charge of dinner. Usually Sloane provided printed spreadsheets, detailing assignments and demanding reports. The spreadsheet was still there, but when Sloane asked about the meal Chloe had planned and Chloe said she was going to wing it, fully expecting to send Sloane into a tailspin, she got a different reaction. Alden squeezed Sloane’s hand twice, not even making eye contact, and Sloane’s face changed. “Sounds good,” she replied, and Chloe was amazed by Alden’s powerful influence.

Sloane moved her suitcase into Alden’s room at the end of the hall, and each morning they were the last to emerge. Maybe it was the infatuation of a new love, but Chloe suspected it was something else. Because Sloane wasn’t waking up and preparing her green juice before consulting her itinerary for the day. Instead, she was walking around in Alden’s oversized T-shirt, her strawberry blonde hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head, as she stole bites of pancake off Alden’s plate. Sloane was relaxed. And Alden was so deliriously happy every moment of every day, his arm wrapped around Sloane’s waist, proudly connected to a person he called his girlfriend dozens of times in every conversation.

The rest of the week was bliss. Chloe embraced the lodge life with Sloane while the rest of their friends went off on different excursions. Midweek, they all decided to rent snowmobiles and rode through the backcountry trails to a rustic inn, where they ate steaming bowls of minestrone and homemade bread before riding back to the lodge. At night, they watched movies and ate maple candy and spent hours jumping between the hot tub and the sauna, dripping all over those beautiful floors. Afternoons of cocktails in cozy bars with roaring fireplaces while Chloe tried to extract as many details of this new relationship with Alden as possible. Nights of Chloe and Luke tangled together, necessitating new creativity given Chloe’s bum ankle and so many extra ears in the house.

Chloe cried on the last night, already missing her friends before they’d even left. Maybe it was because Chloe knew. They were all growing up, getting married, starting new relationships, living in new places. But for that one blissful week in Vermont, they got to be together , Chloe’s favorite place.