Rm w/a Vu(142)

Greyston joins me in the living room moments later, sitting next to me on the couch after setting the bottle of wine on the coffee table next to my almost-empty glass. “How are your parents?”

I shrug, snuggling into his side as he wraps his arm around me. “No answer. I didn’t want to keep calling in case they were…busy.” Greyston laughs. “Did you get a hold of Gemma?”

“I did.” He takes a sip of his wine. “She wanted to know if we wanted to meet at the resort again tomorrow. I told her we were kind of hoping to spend some time alone.”

A twinge of guilt seeps in, but at the same time, I’m happy. I don’t like the idea that Greyston might feel obligated to avoid her just because I’m a little uncomfortable around her, knowing their past.

“I did, however, offer a compromise,” he confesses nervously.

“Which was?”

“Dinner on our final night here.” I turn my head to look up at him. “I’ll make it an early dinner, and they’ll only be here a couple hours.”

“Okay,” I respond. “As long as we’ll still have plenty of alone time before we have to head back home.” My stomach flops, knowing we won’t be here much longer.

Greyston’s lips touch down on the top of my head, and I feel them curve up into a smile. “Now,” he mumbles into my hair. “Didn’t you say something last night about a surprise for me?”

Biting my lip, I remember the lingerie still sitting, unused, in my suitcase, and I debate which one I should test out first.





Chapter 32



As promised, Greyston takes me to the resort the next day. I’m extremely excited to use all of my new equipment—even if the price of it still shocks the hell out of me. If I hadn’t fallen in love with the sport that first day, though, I’d think it was a bad investment, but I’m fairly certain that I’ll get a lot of use out of it.

Well, only if Greyston and I come out here every year. Though, I suppose we’d have to rent a place, which sucks, because I’ve grown quite fond of this place.

Considering it’s only my second day, I do better out on the slopes, and Greyston and I even hit a more intermediate trail. I fall down, of course, and I also hit a few sad excuses for jumps—they’re really just tiny snowdrifts or packed down snow—that drop me flat on my ass when I can’t land them. Given how small they are, it’s humiliating, but all part of the learning curve. Unsurprisingly, Greyston makes it all look so effortless, and he assures me that I’m doing really well. I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to make me feel better.

The next day, New Years Eve, Greyston has plans that he seems pretty excited about. Apparently there’s a yearly celebration where families come out for music, crafts, food, dancing…and ice skating.

It shouldn’t, but I’m a little surprised when I manage to do better with ice-skating than I did snowboarding. Now, I’m still not skating circles around him or anything—not many people are, to be honest—but I manage to hold my own, even though it’s been well over ten years since I’ve been ice-skating in one of the indoor arenas that Phoenix has. While I’m obviously a little rusty, Greyston, naturally, excels at it. Jerk.

The chilly winter air only adds to the experience, and we’re having a great time as the night wears on. Surprisingly, I’ve only almost fallen a couple of times—which my tailbone continuously thanks me for—and, after about thirty minutes, it starts to snow lightly. Everything about this night out—being with Greyston, the cool evening air, the snow falling almost whimsically, the music—is absolutely beautiful, and it’s only made a little more perfect when the countdown begins and Greyston and I share our first kiss of the new year.

We’re standing in the middle of the rink, surrounded by what feels like hundreds of people—some on the ice, others just off to the side—and everyone is counting down, waiting for the stroke of midnight. When the time comes, fireworks boom overhead, and Greyston turns me to face him, placing his gloved fingers beneath my chin and tilting my face up to his, but before capturing my lips, he smiles. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he says as the fireworks continue to light up the night sky.

Stepping up onto the picks of my skates, I wrap my arms around his neck and smile. “Happy New Year,” I reply. “I can’t wait to see what the next year has in store for us.”

He lowers his lips to mine. They’re soft and warm, even with the winter chill in the air, and he kisses me with so much passion that it takes my breath away.