Page 42

By late afternoon, we were all exhausted but satisfied, that particular bone-deep weariness that comes from a day well spent in physical exertion. I changed out of my ski gear in the lodge bathrooms, and jumped back into Nick's SUV with damp hair and flushed cheeks.

"Ready?" Nick asked as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"As I'll ever be," I replied, settling in for the drive up the mountain.

Nick was going to drive me back up the mountain to Alpine Ridge because I had to get back for the morning shift the next day. They were leaving in the morning themselves, but no one wanted to get up at 4 AM to drive me back up the hill.

We took the drive in silence, like Nick knew I needed a moment to just breathe. I liked Nick; Nick was a sweet guy, and kind. Louise had snagged a good one there, and I was so happy for them.

It wasn't until the sign said "Welcome to Alpine Ridge" that Nick opened his mouth and said, "Geri..."

I answered, "Yes?"

He said, "Can you do me a favour and just let Alex know that you guys are in the fuck buddy category? Because I think he might be wondering that question a little too hard."

I suddenly felt guilty, like I was in fact leading Alex along. "Yes, I think you're right."

Nick pulled up to the front of the hotel I worked at, and I climbed out, grabbed my bag and skis, and thanked him for taking me back up the hill. And though I thought, fuck it, seeing as we are just talking feelings, I said, "Nick... can you do me a favour?"

He said, "Sure."

I said, "Don't question yourself with Louise. She is a free spirit who loves to live moment to moment. Make sure you create a lot of moments for her; she will love that."

He smiled and said, "I can do that."

Then I closed the car door and headed inside. Tonight I would sleep; tomorrow I would plan.

The hotel was quiet when I entered, the evening shift well underway. A few guests milled about in the lobby, but none of the staff I knew well were on duty. I made my way to my room, hoping Lily would be there—I had missed her more than I expected during my three days away.

But the room was empty when I unlocked the door. Lily's bed was neatly made, her side of the room tidy as always. I dropped my bags on the floor and collapsed onto my own bed, the exhaustion of the past few days catching up to me all at once.

I should shower, I thought. I should unpack. I should check my phone for messages.

Instead, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence envelop me after days of constant noise and activity. The quiet felt both welcome and oppressive, a reminder that I was back in my real life, with all its complications and uncertainties.

Nick's words echoed in my mind. Was I leading Alex on? We had never defined what we were to each other, had never had "the talk" about exclusivity or expectations. But maybe that was the problem—the lack of clarity left room for misinterpretation, for hope where there shouldn't be any.

I liked Alex. The sex was great, and he was fun to be around. But I didn't love him, didn't see a future with him. And if he was starting to want more, to expect more, then I owed it to him to be honest about where I stood.

With a sigh, I reached for my phone. It powered on slowly, and then notifications began flooding in—texts, emails, social media alerts. I ignored most of them, scrolling through my messages.

Several from Alex, of course, asking how my trip was going, telling me he missed me, sending a shirtless selfie from the gym that made me roll my eyes despite the flutter of appreciation for his admittedly impressive physique.

A few from James, checking in and sharing gossip from back home.

And one from Con, sent just that morning:

Hope you're having a great time. Can't wait to hear all about it when you get back.

Simple, friendly, no pressure. Yet it made my heart beat a little faster in a way Alex's more explicit messages didn't.

I set the phone aside without replying to any of them. I was too tired, too emotionally drained to navigate those waters tonight. Tomorrow, I would face it all—work, Alex, Con, the future. Tonight, I just needed to rest.

As I drifted toward sleep, still fully clothed on top of my covers, I found myself thinking about what Jenny had said—that I seemed lighter, less guarded during our trip. Was that who I could be, if I wasn't constantly on alert, constantly protecting myself from potential hurt?

And if so, was there a way to carry that version of myself back into my real life? Or was she only possible in those brief escapesfrom reality, those moments out of time where nothing really mattered because nothing was really at stake?

The questions followed me into my dreams, unanswered but insistent, like a melody I couldn't quite place but couldn't stop humming either.