In a Holidaze

“Dad, do you really want to do this?” I ask.

“Of course,” he says, unconvincingly.

“You don’t even like sledding.” I point to a teeth-chattering Kyle. “Why don’t you two go hang out in the lodge?”

Kyle shuffles closer. “Did someone say ‘lodge’?”

Dad frowns at me. “Don’t you like sledding together, Noodle?” But it’s a half-hearted guilt trip at best. The idea of being in the lodge instead—hanging with Kyle and drinking spiked cider near a roaring fire—has quickly captured him.

I lift my chin. “Go.”

They don’t need to be told twice: Dad and Kyle hop on the ski lift and head back down the mountain toward warmth, food, and booze.

Miles is already off, flying down the hill solo. Mom and Lisa are riding together. Aaron has Kennedy, Ricky has Zachary, and a quiet hush falls over the ten-foot radius around me, Andrew, and Theo as we do the math: there are two sleds remaining, one single-rider and one two-person.

These guys are both well over six feet tall; they couldn’t share a sled even if they wanted to. At five foot five, I know I’m going to ride with one of them, and usually I’d ask Theo to go with me because I would be nonverbal with nerves if I rode that closely with Andrew.

But now, the thought of settling between his spread legs, of his arms banded around my waist and his breath in my hair doesn’t make me nervous. It makes me hungry.

How does it make Andrew feel, though? Yes, he followed me under the tree last night, and yes, he seemed to like being there. But the very last thing I’d ever want to do is put him in an awkward position, now that he knows how I feel.

Before I can offer to go with Theo, Andrew steps forward, grabbing the rope for the two-person sled and giving me a little waggle of his brows. “Wanna ride with me, Maisie?”

I require no arm-twisting. “I do.”

If Theo is at all annoyed, it doesn’t show, because he jumps in front of a couple in their twenties, hops on his sled, and takes off down the slope with a whoop. Thank God.

Andrew drags me out of my thoughts. “Why aren’t you wearing a hat?”

I reach up, touching my hair. “Shit.” I left it in the car. Not only is it insanely cold out, but my coat doesn’t have a hood. Once we hit full speed on the sled, my ears are going to turn into icicles.

Andrew pulls his from his head and tugs it down over mine, but I protest. “Mandrew, you don’t have to give me yours.”

He lifts his hood up and grins at me. “My lice will like your hair better anyway.”

“Gross.” I lean in to plant a thank-you kiss on his cheek, connecting with the soft, chilly stubble there.

I’m suddenly glad that Theo is already halfway down the mountain, that my mom isn’t here to give me her little raised eyebrow, and that the people behind us have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.

I pull back and he grins at me, but suddenly there’s an obvious awareness there, because while I hug him all the time, I don’t kiss him that often. Now I don’t know where to look. My gaze wants to sink to his mouth, but that would be a terrible choice because I worry it’d be stuck there, immobile. Too late. His lips are red from the wind, full like usual, totally fascinating. When I drag my attention back up to his face, Andrew’s eyes seem extra bright out here, more intense than usual.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“The hat?”

“Well, for the record, I’m always here for kisses.”

Pardon?

He breaks the tension and sits down, sliding to the back of the sled and patting the space between his legs. My pulse trips. “Climb aboard, Maisie.” Andrew looks up at me, and my heart does an aching nosedive. “There are adventures to be had.”

It was one thing to hug him, but it’s an entirely different experience sliding between his strong legs, feeling one of his arms around my waist and the low vibration of his voice in my ear.

“Ready?”

No.

I nod, leaning back just a little, and Andrew releases the brake, lifts his feet to bracket my calves, and pushes off with his free hand. We work together, humping the sled forward in a way that makes me want to explode in embarrassment because it is beyond sexual, but then we are gaining speed, sliding faster and faster down the hillside.

His arm tightens around me, and without thinking I grab on to his legs, holding them tight, leaning back into him. I can feel the sturdy weight of his body behind mine, the way he grips me with his thighs. I’ve always known Andrew to be kind, generous, and playful. But the way he engulfs me on the sled makes me aware of his physical strength and brawn. A flash of an image tears through me: Andrew’s bare legs, his stomach clenched, head thrown back in pleasure.