My Best Friend's Brother (6 page)

He grinned. “I had fun, too.”

We got out of the car and walked to the front door, behind which my father was waiting. Dad insisted that Luke not waste money on a cab—
he’d
drive him.

“Okay, sir,” Luke said with a dry throat.

V

Since Thursday was an early-out, Luke took me to Grizzly Mountain for a crash course in skiing. And I mean a
crash
course.

“My girl has to be good on skis,” he said, with a smile and a wink. I was jittery, because skiing isn’t much like ice skating.

After my hundredth fall, he explained stopping again. “When you want to stop, point your feet toward each other. Kind of like ice skating, it’s not as hard as you think.”

Says the guy who fell in my chest. Twice.

I fell behind on the advanced ski trail. I kept trying to ski like I’m “advanced” because I didn’t want
him
taking the starter trails with fifth graders. Thankfully, by five, I had it pretty much figured out.

By 7:20, night had fallen. We decided to give it one more run before heading back to his Jeep to go home.

He bought the Jeep on Wednesday—the only day I didn’t see him after school. His dad sent him money for it. I wish my dad bought me a brand new car! Luke says it’s lousy-parent-guilt-money, and an early graduation present to boot.

I guess I’m supposed to just be happy with my allowance—a whole twenty bucks a week. Dad won’t let me keep a job during the school year, and he seriously thinks twenty bucks makes up for it.

We took the lift up to the expert trail, at the top of Grizzly Mountain. An occasional light lit the trail, and moonlight lit the mountains that encompassed us. The sky was amazingly clear, painted with bright stars and a dancing blue-green aurora. It was very picturesque.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes on the sky. “I haven’t seen the northern lights since Iceland. This is really amazing.”

“I can’t imagine why you’d go to a place called
Ice
land,” I teased.

He chuckled, leaned into my ear. “Where there’s snow, I go,” he whispered. His breath made me feel funny. I was really tempted to kiss him.

We soon stood before a comforting sign that read,

Warning: Experts only beyond this point!

I was no expert, but Luke obviously had some faith in me. It probably helped that I got the hang of stopping.

I moved my fingers in and out of a fist to get the blood pumping back to my hand. It was at least ten degrees below zero. We were both bundled up, except for the snow pants. Since I didn’t have a pair, he wore polyester pants like mine. He didn’t bring his goggles, either, because unless it’s snowing or he’s planning to go super-fast, he thinks they’re cheesy.

“So, you’re absolutely
sure
you’re comfortable with this trail? Because it’s dark now, this is harder than the other trails, and I’m willing to take an easier one!”

“I’m fine!” I assured him, “I have a helmet!”

He laughed. “Okay. But let’s start out slow. I’m kind of worried.”

At the top, we were at about a 7,000-foot elevation and much of what the snow covered was rock.

There were cliffs and spruce on either side of us, and at one point my faith in stopping just wasn’t there—though I was up for the challenge, mostly to impress him.

We went easy until the halfway mark. We got there at arms’ distance. When the slope got a bit safer and the cliffs not as steep, I actually grew the courage to push him into the snow and take off.

He got to his feet laughing and began the chase. I could barely contain my excitement. I used my poles to pick up speed, squealing so loud when he closed in on me I thought I’d cause an avalanche.

“This is crazy!” he laughed, falling a third time as I pushed him down, barely evading him.

I slowed for him. My lungs hurt from the frost engulfed in them.

“You okay?” he asked as he caught up.

“My lungs hurt.”

“Where’s your scarf?”

“Don’t have one.”

“You’re lucky this isn’t the Alps! You wouldn’t make that mistake if it was!”

I raised an eyebrow, still short of breath. “You skied in the Alps?”

“And in Chile, too, when I was ten!” He laughed. “I was born on skis, didn’t you know?”

“Ever ski anywhere
basic
?”

“Colorado, Canada, Montana, Vermont… I don’t know, are those basic?”

I giggled. “Not really.”

Before long, we were three-quarters of the way down. It was very dark, cold, and serene. I skied the bends, in the lead when I suddenly saw a dark flash. He screamed, “Watch out!”

I froze, colliding without a chance to avoid it. I fell and struck snow-covered rocks with the ends of my skis, whirling around like a frisbee. Luckily, the very end of a fence stopped me—I would have gone over the cliff if my ski didn’t get caught in it!

My face was covered in dry Alaskan snow, which is incredibly cold and sandy. It felt like it had gotten into my coat, too. But the adrenaline masked the cold for a while.

“Adonia!” he gasped as he dropped to his knees and reached for me. “Don’t move, okay, so you don’t fall!”

Wow, I’d cheated death by about six inches! My heart pounded. The drop below seemed steep, but I couldn’t tell by moonlight alone. “What did I hit!” I screamed his way in a daze.

“I’m pretty sure you hit a moose!”

I hit a
moose
?
That’s
what that was? He grabbed my hands and pulled me to flatter ground.

“Where did it go?”

He looked around and pointed north. “I think it crossed your path and trotted off the cliff.”

“What!”
I screamed in shock.

“I’m serious! I think it was suicidal!”

I laughed so hard I could barely get to my feet. And even then it made us giggle once we got going again. It was unbelievable—we both had to have missed what really happened. Why would a moose trot off a cliff?

Then again, they
are
pretty dumb.

It was manageable for a while, but the cold caught up to me. Snow had definitely seeped into my gloves, jacket, and boots when I fell, and I was really beginning to feel the chill. I slowed and uttered, “I’m cold.”

He stopped me and we embraced. “It’s okay, we’re almost down.” His arms felt really good around me. “Come on,” he breathed, pulling me along, “let’s get you warm.”

He bought me hot chocolate at the ski lodge. We talked by the fireplace for a little while, and headed to his black Jeep Wrangler. The engine roared to life and, once warmed up, Luke turned on the heat full blast.

I unzipped my jacket. Beneath it was my formfitting blue turtleneck.

“Feeling better?” Luke asked, handing me what remained of my hot chocolate and sipping his. The car was dark except for the red lit-up buttons inside and the headlights he’d turned on, which illuminated the landscape. Outside was a glistening winter wonderland. The parking lot was covered in fresh snow with a handful of cars scattered about. An occasional skier waddled by, tugging at the ski pass on his zipper.

“I’m great, thanks. Maybe we could just talk for a while,” I breathed. I didn’t want to go home.

I threw the jacket in the back seat. His eyes were focused on me. His hair was gelled back, giving it a suave look; his lips turned upwards to form a sweet smile. Everything about him was perfect, even his skiing was perfect. “I’m really glad you took me skiing today. I would never have learned otherwise.”

He grinned. “You never would have hit a moose, either! You’re really lucky you got away without even a scratch! That thing could’ve easily trampled you to death!”

“Or sent me over the cliff!” I giggled.

He pulled his jacket off and rested it on his seat. He wore a gray fleece sweater with black pants. After turning down the heat and turning off the headlights, he moved his arm around my seat and smiled seductively. I saw him only by moonlight, and I really liked it.

“It’s good you didn’t get leather seats, they suck in forty below,” I said to break the silence.

“Do they?” he breathed.

“Yeah, they get all slippery.” I paused briefly. “You’re lucky your dad spoils you! What did your mom say when you got it?”

“She expected it, she just didn’t think it’d be so soon after I got here!” After a second, he reached over, touched my lip, and whispered, “Chocolate.” I felt a dab of chocolate on my lip from my drink.

He moved his head forward. I shifted toward him. When his lips touched mine, I closed my eyes. He opened his mouth and I opened mine.

We kissed. Eagerly. Barely even stopping for air.

His pulse raced through the side of his neck. I reached with my other hand and pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around him. As I slid under him, he moved over me. At first it was a bit awkward, being so cramped in that front seat, but I quickly grew comfortable.

He ran his hands through my hair and down my shoulders and sweater, breathing in my ear. When he slipped his fingers up my sweater, my breath caught in my throat.

“You okay?” he whispered. His eyes twinkled.

I nodded, a bit scared.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked in a quivering voice so low I could barely hear him over my heartbeat. He was trembling.

After brief hesitation I shook my head no.

We kissed again. I sort of hoped
he’d
stop, because I was on the fence about it and didn’t entirely trust myself to. I hadn’t known him very long, but being with him was
so
comfortable; it was hard to
want
him to stop.

It may sound crazy, but I
feel
like I’ve known him forever.

He started sucking my neck, so I started sucking his. He slipped his fingers farther up my sweater, until his fingertips reached the underwire of my bra. Then they stopped. Shy eyes met mine. He breathed fast. He had a gleam in his eyes and a trace of a smile. His cologne—or aftershave, or whatever it was—smelled amazing. I could feel his hair prickling my forehead.

I boldly pulled his shirt off. My hands glided over his abs.
Did skiing do all that?

He wore a soft smile. “Can I tell you something?” he breathed.

Our eyes met.

“I think I’m in love with you.” His forehead touched mine. Beads of sweat from the tips of his hair gathered on my forehead.

I felt weak. Breathless. And nervous, because I did not know what to say.

So I blurted, “I hate pepperoni.”

“What?”

I stared at him stupidly. Again I did not know what to say.

“You know,” he smiled, “a taste for pepperoni isn’t the first thing I look for in a girl.”

I groaned. “I need to stop blurting stuff out.”

He laughed. “Why do you do it?”

“I dunno. Sometimes I don’t know what to say so I say the first thing that comes to mind, and other times I think with my mouth. It mostly happens when I’m nervous, or upset.”

He grinned and squeezed me tight. “Well I think it’s cute.” He winked.

“That’s because it doesn’t happen to you!” I assured him.

“Hey, if people knew what was going through my head half the time, I’d be in some serious trouble.”

I grinned. “Luke?” I whispered. “I am
so
lucky I met you.”

He nibbled my earlobe. “I’m lucky you met me, too.”

“I think Lilly will adore you,” I continued.

He looked thoughtful. “Her approval’s important, huh?”

“Well, we’ve been best friends forever!”

He looked skeptical.

“Okay, not forever. But she’ll love you! I think you’re perfect for me.
She’ll
think you’re perfect for me!”
And she’ll think you’re
hot.

“What if she
doesn’t
think I’m perfect for you?”

I frowned. How could
anyone
in their right mind not think he's perfect?
He’s fun, he’s sweet and he’s
seriously
HOT. But I figured maybe it’s important to guys. “Oh my God, why wouldn’t she?”

“Let’s say she doesn’t approve—for whatever reason—would you still want to be with me?”

I grinned and pulled him into an embrace. “Yes!”

He pulled away again. “Are you sure?”

I pecked his cheek. “I’m sure I’m sure!”

He wrapped his arms around me and gave me one explosive kiss after another.

I ran my hand over his body. His skin was so smooth. His shoulders and arms were curved in all the right places. He felt incredible.

His finger pulled on the belt loop of my pants. He pulled my body toward his, all the while kissing me. Sweating. Panting. He was at least as nervous as I was, if not more.

He felt like a dream. I could hardly believe I was there with him.

But our fun ended abruptly. Because he suddenly gasped, “Holy shit! What time is it?”

He reached and hit the button to turn on his radio. We stared at the red digital numbers in horror. It was 11:18.

I scrambled to get him off me, then moved into my seat. He sat up in his and buckled his seatbelt.

I reached into the backseat for my coat. I dug into the pocket for the cell phone. Four missed calls—and I was afraid to listen to even one of them!

“I need to get home. Fast!”

He backed the Jeep up with a jolt. “If I hurry, we might make it in half an hour.” He turned out of the lodge parking area and rushed toward the highway. “Man, how the hell did it get so late? Your dad is going to kill me!”

He stomped the gas, spinning rubber on ice. He sped up to pass a few cars. If I wasn’t so worried about Dad killing me, I would’ve worried about
Luke
killing me instead.

I wanted to ask him to slow down, but if he did, I’d be even later, and probably dead anyway.

At 11:50 we pulled into the driveway. Dad appeared just as we exited the car. His glare could freeze hell over. “Where were you? I was on the phone with the police!” He hung up the cordless and stomped back inside. We followed him in.

I stood in the foyer, scared stiff. I wanted to apologize, but I knew it wouldn’t matter and I was too scared to even open my mouth.

“It’s my fault, Mr. Morrison, we were skiing and lost track of time. We went on a more difficult trail.”

Dad pointed to me. “Did she get that
hickey
on the trail?”