Chapter 5
FIVE
STERLING
Late afternoon sunlight spills across the slopes, painting the snow gold and pink as the sun begins its slow decline behind the mountain.
It’s quieter now that the big crowds have thinned out. Perfect conditions to glide down the mountain a couple times. Too bad I can’t enjoy any of it—not with Maisy strapped to her snowboard in front of me, swaying like she’s about to eat snow at any second.
“Alright,” I call, closing the small gap between us. “Keep your shoulders angled downhill, and your knees soft. Stop fighting the board.”
“I am soft,” she snaps back, her nose scrunching under her goggles.
I bite back a laugh. “No, you’re not. You’re stiff as a board.”
“I’m not stiff!” She bends her knees dramatically, overcompensating, and instantly wobbles back and forth.
I dart forward, my hands grabbing her elbows to steady her. Warmth floods through my gloves and I force myself to let go, stepping back like she burned me. Too close.
“Ready to start listening?” I ask, clearing my throat.
She glares. “You’re a terrible teacher.”
“No, you’re just a terrible student.” I grin, because pushing her buttons is too easy.
Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile, and it nearly knocks the air out of me.
“Okay,” I say quickly, needing to redirect before my brain goes somewhere it shouldn’t. “We’re gonna practice heel edge first. Lean back slightly, bend your knees almost like you’re going to sit in a chair, dig your heels in, and let the board cut across the slope. Got it?”
Maisy nods like she’s about to conquer the mountain. She pushes off, sliding downhill, and for a few blissful seconds, she’s balanced—graceful even. But then, just as quickly, her weight shifts and she tips backwards.
“Sterling!” she yelps right before she goes down hard, snow exploding around her.
I’m laughing before I can stop myself and she rips off a glove, chucking it at me. I catch it easily, still laughing.
“Help me up, asshole!” she growls, sprawled on her back like a starfish.
I crouch down, grinning as I pull off my glove and offer her my hand. The second her fingers slip into mine, it’s like a live wire is running through me.
It’s too easy to remember how perfectly we used to fit.
Too easy to want it again.
As if I ever really stopped.
I yank her up fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid, then immediately step back, tossing her glove at her before sliding mine back on. “Try again.”
Her cheeks are pink, but she doesn’t fight me on it as she checks her straps. That’s Maisy in a nutshell—too damn stubborn to quit.
The next run, she lasts longer. The one after that, she makes it ten whole feet without falling. Every time, I’m ready to catch her, fighting myself not to hold on longer than necessary.
By the time she finally makes it down to the second flag along the mountain, she’s panting and her arms are shaking. But her smile—God, that smile—is so bright it twists my chest in knots.
“See?” she says, proudly. “Not a terrible student after all.”
I shake my head, holding back the grin that’s fighting to spread across my face. “You’re still terrible. Just…less terrible.”
She shoves me with her gloved hand, and it’s stupid how badly I want to grab it and not let go. But no matter how good it feels to have her back in my arms, even for a second, Maisy Hart is off-limits.
She’s beaming like she just won a gold medal, cheeks flushed as she stares up at me, and for a second, I forget where we are. I forget everything except how badly I want to pull her in and kiss her—
“Yo!”
I jolt, whipping my head up. Levi is walking toward us behind Maisy, snowboard tucked under his arm, instructor vest bright against the snow. His brows lift when he takes in the scene—Maisy sweaty and grinning, me standing way too close.
He smirks. “Well, look at that. My little sister’s still alive. Didn’t break your neck yet?”
“Not for lack of Sterling trying,” Maisy mutters, shooting me a side-eye.
I bark out a laugh, mostly to cover the way guilt shoots through me as I stare back at my best friend.
“Alright, you comedians,” Levi says, shaking his head. “Wrap it up. There’s a wind warning rolling in, so we’re shutting down the slopes early today. Last lift in twenty.”
Maisy frowns. “Already? It’s barely six.”
“Yeah, well, blame Mother Nature.” Levi shrugs, then points his gloved finger at me. “Don’t keep her out too long. If she ends up frostbitten, it’s on you.”
“Relax, Dad,” Maisy fires back. “I’ll be fine.”
Levi snorts, eyes jumping between us before his eyes find mine. My shoulders tense under the weight of our eye contact, and I see the silent warning in his stare.
Maisy is off-limits.
Levi jerks his chin at the base lodge. “Lights start going out in fifteen. Don’t miss the lift unless you plan to attempt riding down the whole mountain, sis. I’ll see you both at the bottom.”
He chucks his board down and clips his boots in, sliding away and leaving behind a silence that’s thick enough for me to choke on.
Maisy shakes her head. “He’s worse than my parents sometimes.”
“I’m sure he is,” I mutter distractedly as I watch him go, though my chest remains tight.
She pushes off again, determined to squeeze in one last run, and I follow close behind her. The slope is even quieter now as skiers trickle down the mountain one by one. Each time she stumbles, I catch her. And each time, I have to remind myself to let go.
By the time we reach the third flag the floodlights are shutting off one by one, shadows swallowing the slope. The air has that eerie stillness before a storm.
Maisy stares down at the darkening slope, breath clouding in front of her. “Guess that’s our cue.”
“Yeah.” I reach out automatically, brushing my gloved fingers against her arm to guide her back up the mountain. We’re closer to the ski lift that brought us up the mountain than we are to the bottom.
The last row of lights blink out seconds later, plunging the hill into blue twilight. I jerk my chin toward the lift. “Come on. Let’s catch the last ride down before we’re stranded.”
Her eyes meet mine, something like fear in them. Then she nods, and we head for the ski lift together.