Crave (7 page)

Chapter 16

Not only is skiing my passion, it’s my therapy. A couple of days after our fiasco, it’s Blaine Tuesday. Being school vacation week, Blaine’s working at kids’ ski school to help. It’s just as well. I still don’t know what I should say. I need a ski day all to myself.

Pressing my cheek to the metal side bar of the chairlift, the cold bites my skin. I ride solo, so I can get lost in my thoughts. I’m confused about my dream. To be honest, Jason hadn’t been tucked away in my heart. He’s in my head, too. A gust of wind swings my chair. It’s little things. Sometimes Blaine will call me Case and Jason’s face appears. I shift in the chair and lean over the restraining bar. I look down at the snow far below. When Blaine tucks a curl behind my ear, I remember how Jason used to do the same. I pull out my sandwich. Even unwrapping my peanut butter and jelly makes me remember the hundreds of times I ate lunch on the chair with Jason. I sigh and put the sandwich away. I miss him.

My phone vibrates and I see I have a text from Gretchen.
“One word—porn.”
Oh great, another Gretchen solution. Today I can laugh. I picture me renting a porn DVD and playing it for Blaine while he sits motionless watching. That’s so not going to happen.

Making my hand brave the cold, I text back.
“Hey, do you see Jason much these days? I’m just wondering what he’s been up to.”

“I text porn and you think Jason?”

“No. I’m trying to un-see that and change the subject.”
I scrape snow off one ski with the other.

“Rumor has it he’s in Colorado. Ski vacation. I’m not sure where he went. Did you tell him where you are?”

A gust of wind blows the chair and makes it sway.
“No, you’re the only one that knows. Did you tell him?”

“Maybe?”

Jason? Here? I can’t breathe. Is this a mini anxiety attack?
“It’s ok. I never told you to keep it secret.”

“Then, yes. I did tell him you were living somewhere in Breckenridge. I don’t know if he would go there. It’s kind of a big place to hope to find you.”

“True. He has my number and could text if he wanted to see me.”
Would he?

“Right. He’s probably at Vail or A-Basin.”

Or maybe not. When I get off the chair my hands are cold. I need to go into the lodge to warm up and fill my water. Pushing open the door, the warmth wraps around me. Matt is behind the ski school desk and calls out.

“Hey, Casey, I was just talking about you. I skied with a guy today from Killington. He said he knows you.”

No. Way. My stomach clenches.

“It was Jason Garrison.”

My heart is in my throat. “Really? Is he going to work here next winter?” I’m no longer cold. That anxiety attack is back, and I don’t think it’s so mini anymore.

“If he wants the job. He’s one fine skier.”

Oh dear. “Cool. He’ll be a good instructor. Nice guy.” Oh, man, that could make things weird next winter.

“He just left if you want to catch up to him. I think he said he was headed to the bowls. He’s wearing an orange jacket.”

Ohmigod.
I want to run. “Thanks!” I rush out the door. Orange jacket. Bowls. The T-bar is the best way to get there. With any luck, the line will be long. I slam my boots into my skis and take off like a shot. My jacket flaps in the wind. I have to skate over to the T-bar and am grateful I’ve been running. My thighs explode with power and propel me. I am prepared to plow over anyone and anything. My helmet strap bangs methodically against the fiberglass. No time to connect it now. Breathless, I reach the lift and spot orange getting on. I can’t see his face, but the helmet looks familiar. Jason. I yell, “Single!” and move right to the front.

I’m a few T-bars behind him. Good. This is good. I know his routine. He buckles his boots tighter after having loosened them for a lift ride. I just might catch him. I pat my jacket for lipstick. Darn, I wish I had a mirror. I pull a curl out of my helmet, just in case he wants to tuck it back in. I fan myself by pulling my fleece away from my body in a flapping motion. Whew. I catch my breath and jiggle my leg.
Oh please, oh please, oh please, let me catch him.
I’m a nervous ball of energy. It hits me. Text. Of course. I’m an idiot.

I pull out my phone and text him.
“Hey, stranger. I heard you’re in Breck. True?”

Now I tap my phone with a fingernail. The guy I’m riding with must think I’m a total nutcase.
C’mon, Jason, text back.

“True. Getting off T-bar.”

I squeal. Yup, the guy next to me looks like he wonders if it’s worth ditching me halfway up the trail. I text back,
“Don’t move. On T-bar.”

“Frozen”

Relief floods my body. I’ve found him. I zip up my jacket and click the clasp of my helmet.

When I get to the top of the lift, I try to look cool, as if I haven’t seen him yet. I hear him call out.

“Casey!”

A smile spreads across my face. I resist the urge to jump into his arms. “Jason.” I ski over to him and wrap my arms as far around him as I can.

He lifts me up off the ground. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Same.” His scent makes my body heat up and defy me. My lips ache to kiss him.
Control your raging hormones, Casey.
“Where are you headed?”

He puts me down. “The bowl. Are you skiing alone?”

“I am. Follow me; you’re going to love this.” I slip my pole straps on as I begin to move.

The two of us ski over and fly down the bowl. No need to stop and figure out a line, this is how we roll. I feel so free and happy, I can’t believe it. My best ski buddy is here, and we don’t even have to talk to know what the other thinks. I reach my poles behind me and knock them together twice. He knows it means “get ready.” Up ahead there’s a cliff. Hidden by a few trees, you don’t know it’s there until you’re on top of it. I soar over and stick the landing like a pro. I take a few turns to slow down and stop. Jason explodes off it and lets out a “Whoo!” As he pulls up to me, his chest heaves with exhilaration. “Damn, that was awesome! I didn’t expect a cliff.”

“I thought you might like that. The first time I went off it, I crashed. You crushed it.”

“Why, yes, I do believe I did.” He has a cocky grin on his face, and I can’t help but chuckle.

That’s my Jason. Gosh, it’s so good to be with him.

As we ride up the chair, I tell him stories about the girls at the boarding house. So many try to sneak in past curfew when they’ve had too much to drink.

“Do you ever do any of that?” He takes a swig of his water.

“No. I don’t get that drunk anymore. It’s not worth it.” I blush when I think about our last night.

“Why?” He tucks his bottle back into his jacket.

“Because my party-girl ways led me to doing stupid things and hurting people that matter to me. People like you.” I look down at my feet in shame.

“Oh, Case.” He takes his glove off and lifts my chin so I’m looking at him. His greenish eyes are warm and tender.

I reach up and put my glove over his hand. “It’s true. I was so selfish that night. You deserve so much better.”

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He touches the tip of my nose with his finger.

“I haven’t.”

“Hey, now, this is getting heavy. C’mon. Where’s my ski buddy?”

He’s forgiven me. Pushing the shame out of my head, I smile. “Bumps?”

He looks down at my chest with a wicked grin. “Yes.”

I slap his arm. “Jason, you’re awful!”

He winks at me. “That’s not what I hear. Word is, I’m pretty good.”

I shake my head. “You’re too much.” But I smile too.

At the top of the trail we study the lines to figure out the best way down. Shouts announce a ski class of young boys. Shiny braces and awkward postures, I guess they’re in middle school. They stop at the top of our trail and I gulp. Blaine. Oh no. Oh, please, no.

He sees me. “Casey.”

“Hi.” Damn it. For a big mountain, it sure seems small today.

He leans over his poles and glances back at his class. “Hey guys, you should watch this girl. She’s good.”

A high voice sings out, “Is she your girlfriend?”

“She sure is.” He looks over at me with a smile.

Crap.

“Are you going to kiss her?” A boy in a red jacket snickers.

Blaine looks amused. “I don’t know. Should I?”

Oh, dear God, no. I shoot Blaine a pleading look and he lowers his eyebrows. I know he wonders what’s wrong. I want to die right here and now. He slides over, leans in, and kisses me.

I hear a boy’s voice. “Oh, gross.”

I hear you, little guy. Now is not the time for a little PDA. My body tenses and my heart beats loudly in my ears. I have to get out of here. I take off and slam through the bumps. The snow punishes my body with each turn. My brain tells my legs to turn, but they can’t respond fast enough. My screaming muscles barely hang on because of the speed.

I know what’s coming when I barely finish a turn before the next bump is under my feet. I jam a ski straight into the next mogul and my body stops; the force sends me flying head over heels. Both feet eject out of the skis, and I land hard on my back. The cold snow on my face tamps down my anger. I get up and slap at my clothes to get the snow off.

Boys’ laughter carries down. That doesn’t bother me. Everyone falls and I’m sure it was epic. What does bother me is when Blaine and Jason both ski down to retrieve my equipment and bring it to me.

Blaine’s face is inches from mine as he hands me a ski. “You know you fell because you were too far forward, right?”

I glare at him and step back. Between gritted teeth I say, “I know.”

Jason hands me my other ski, but keeps his distance. With a sweep of my hand I say, “Blaine, this is Jason.” He knows the name, but not the history. It’s hard to tell skiing stories without including Jason. He knows Jason is an ex-boyfriend. It’s enough for him to realize why I didn’t want to kiss him. Blaine’s lips are pursed. He drops the rest of my gear at my feet and skis over to the procession of boys bouncing down the hill. Their squeals of delight fade as guilt overwhelms me.

Jason and I ski down without a word. The line is short and we don’t speak until we’re on the chairlift.

He bangs his ski pole against a ski to knock the snow off. “Boyfriend?”

I don’t look at him. I lean my face against the cold metal. “Yeah. It’s not going so well.”

He says, “What’s new?” Ouch.

I look at him and see he is pissed too.
But why?

Crap. I know Blaine is angry because he realizes why I didn’t want to kiss him. That can’t feel good, and he probably thinks I’m still into Jason. But why is Jason mad? Does he still love me? I just steamrolled my way to him this morning, didn’t I? I’d be a fool to not realize I still feel something. But what? I lean over the bar and stare down at the snow moving below.

One of the most redeeming qualities Jason has is his inability to stay mad. We sit with our thoughts for a few minutes. By the end of the chair ride, we joke around as if nothing happened. I’m grateful.

Jason says, “You know what we need? A good burger and a beer. Have dinner with me?”

“Sure, but I need to try to call Blaine first.” I pull out my phone and look at him. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, no. It’s good. I didn’t expect you to not get another boyfriend. I’m cool with it. Besides, I’m seeing someone too.”

Wait, what? Blaine’s phone rings to voice mail, and I know he won’t answer my calls. I leave a message. Just as well, I’m not up for drama. I decide to take Jason to the Cowboy Cafe. It’s loud, full of locals, and has the best burgers around.

Jason has four beer samples in front of him and tries to figure out which microbrew works best with beef. I find it quite amusing since I think most beer tastes the same.

He takes a sip of the first glass again and holds it over his tongue before swallowing. “It’s a fine palate that can determine these things. I’ve developed it over time.”

“Right. So why is it when we were together you ordered a Moosehead every time?”

He winks at me. “That, my dear, is because Canadian beers go with everything.”

I shake my head and laugh. The waitress comes over, and he orders his choice. He leans forward and touches her arm as he asks what burger on the menu is best. A twinge of jealousy niggles at me. Jason has a girlfriend?

“So tell me about this girl.” Bubbles form as I twirl the straw in my soda.

“Her name is Cassie. She works at a horse farm. Teaching lessons, taking care of the horses, stuff like that.”

Cassie? She’d better not look like me, too. I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. “Does she ski?”

“Yes,” he says, almost as a question.

“Yes?” I’m amused.

“She skis. It’s just she’s not that good.” He leans his elbows on the table.

“Oh, that’s hard. I hope she’s not one of those girls who don’t get the powder-day rule.”

He gives me a guilty look.

I lean forward. “No! You haven’t told her? She hasn’t seen your bumper sticker that says,
“There are no friends on powder days?”