Huh.
We walked to the top of the hill, where Josh gestured toward a spot in the distance.
“We’ll take it easy,” he said. “I’m going to stand there, and I want you to ski down and stop in front of me using the snowplow. Do you need me to go over how to do it again?”
“No. I got it.”
My stomach jumped with nerves and anticipation as Josh took his spot and motioned for me to join him.
Here goes nothing.
I took a deep breath and started my descent. I was going a little faster than I should, given the short distance to Josh, but that was fine. I could just snowplow early.
Honestly, this wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of exhilarating—the wind in my face, the fresh mountain air, the smooth glide of my skis against the snow. It was nothing like my weekend with Max. I might even—
“Stop!”
Josh’s shout yanked me out of my rambling thoughts, and alarm kicked me in the gut when I realized how fast I was speeding toward him.
Shit. I pushed the backs of my skis out to form an inverted V, the way he’d taught me, but it was too late. Velocity propelled me faster and faster down the hill until—
“Fuck!” I crashed into Josh with enough force to knock both of us to the ground.
My breath whooshed out of my lungs in a painful rush, and he let out an audible grunt as I landed on top of him, our limbs akimbo, snow spraying up and sprinkling us with tiny white crystals.
“What part of stop don’t you understand?” he growled, annoyance stamped on every inch of his face.
“I tried to stop,” I said defensively. “It didn’t work.”
“Obviously.” Josh let out a small cough. “Christ, I think you bruised my ribs.”
“Stop being dramatic. You’re fine.” Nevertheless, I glanced down to make sure we weren’t bleeding and that our arms and legs weren’t bent at unnatural angles. I couldn’t see bruised ribs, but his face wasn’t scrunched in pain or anything, so I assumed he wasn’t dying.
“You could’ve killed me.”
I rolled my eyes. And people said I was a drama queen.
“It was a fall, Chen. You could’ve moved out of the way.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised you’re blaming me for something you did wrong. You’re something else, JR.”
“Stop calling me JR.” It was an inane argument to have while we were plastered together on the snow, but I was so freaking sick of that nickname. Every time I heard it, I lost a fraction of my sanity.
“Fine.” The annoyance evaporated from Josh’s expression and gave way to lazy mischief. “You’re something else, Red.”
“Red. How creative,” I said flatly. “I’m baffled by how you come up with such unique and totally not obvious nicknames.”
“Didn’t realize you spent so much time thinking about my nicknames for you.” Josh tugged on a lock of my hair, a wicked gleam entering his eyes. “And I’m not calling you Red because of your hair color. I’m calling you Red because you make me see red half the time. Plus, it rolls off the tongue better than JR.”
My answering smile contained enough sugar to give him diabetes on the spot. “I can see how two syllables might be too much for your puny brain to handle.”
“Babe, nothing about me is puny.” Josh lowered his hand and let it drift to my shoulder, where it lingered long enough to sear through layers of fabric and into my bones.
My breath caught in my throat. An unwitting mental image of his nothing flashed through my mind, and a hum of electricity surged through my blood, so swift and unexpected I lost my words.
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of a single comeback.
Instead, I was suddenly, painfully aware of how close we were. I still lay on top of him from our fall, and our torsos pressed so tight against each other I could feel his heartbeat—fast, erratic, and completely at odds with his languorous drawl. The white plumes of our breaths mingled in the tiny distance between our faces, and a brief zing of surprise traveled through me at the sight.
Considering the tightness in my chest, I hadn’t thought I was breathing at all.
Josh’s smile faded, but his hand remained on my shoulder—a whisper-light touch compared to his earlier hair tug, yet enough for me to feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
I licked my parched lips, and his eyes darkened before dipping to my mouth.
The hum of electricity transformed into a bolt of lightning, lighting me up from the inside.
I should get off him. I needed to get off him before my thoughts wandered down even more disturbing paths, but there was something so reassuring about the solid weight of his body beneath mine. He smelled like winter and heat all wrapped into one, and it was making me light-headed.
It’s just the mountain air. Get yourself together.
“Jules,” he said softly.
“Yeah?” The word stuck in my throat before it came out all wrong. Weird and raspy and not at all like my normal voice.
“On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to fuck me right now?”