Page 40 of Ski You Later (Alpine Glow #1)

“I learned my lesson this time. I can’t have dead roses sitting in my girl’s house,” he says quietly. He removes the top piece of paper and pulls out the most roses I’ve ever seen together. Not just any roses, but the same type of pink rose that survived his first bouquet.

I stare speechless at the bundle and feel the waterworks coming all over again. “This is so sweet of you,” I blubber as emotion fills my throat.

“Ah, come here, Langley.” He wraps me in his arms, and I don’t even feel self-conscious about the stray tears that fall.

I’m held softly until I pull away and look up to meet Roman’s gaze. Those chocolate brown eyes are already on me as I’m overtaken by a feeling of complete ease.

“Whenever you’re ready. We have a date planned.”

“I don’t know why you chose to wear those,” he complains again. Reaching over the snowbank, he opens the passenger’s side door for me, and I turn to dangle my legs outside.

“I wear them because they’re pretty, and I don’t need any other reason,” I state smugly. Looking over at Roman as he crosses his arms and lifts his brow.

“Is the prettiness of those boots going to help you over the snowbank?”

He doesn’t move a muscle as he watches me take one step down onto the foot bar of his truck. “Oh, they definitely will. Want to know how?”

“Strangely, I do,” he responds.

I extend my leg to step on top of the bank, and as I attempt to leave the truck, Roman shoots towards me. He steps clear over the two-foot-tall bank, his boot landing in the snow as he suddenly stands before me.

We’re the same height now, and I can’t help but lean in close so I can whisper in his ear. “The guy I’m dating would never let me slip in shoes this pretty. ”

The menace of his narrowed gaze is diminished by the obvious smile he’s fighting before my eyes. “The guy you're dating would never let you slip. Period,” he retorts.

“You flirt,” I tease. He shakes his head at me, and I take the hand he has extended.“I don’t want you to slip when I lean on you, so maybe hold onto the door,” I say absent-mindedly.

He chuckles as I step out of the truck and onto the very edge of the giant bank. “I’m not going to slip.” His tone is self-assured, as if the very idea of him falling is ridiculous.

“I’m just saying, my weight might tip you over. I’m heavier than I look, Huxley,” I say simply.

His brow furrows. “What are you even talking about?” He asks with genuine confusion.

“Well, if I slip, I could accidentally take you down.”

He’s looking at me as if I’m speaking another language. “You wouldn’t,” he says dismissively.

“I would!” I say as my voice rises in protest. I can’t tell if his resulting smile is infuriating or amazing, but the butterflies in my stomach lead me to believe the latter .

“You’re what? Two feet tall? I’m not too worried, Langley.”

“I am five three! I’m tall for a woman!”

That causes a full-bellied laugh to come from him, and I do my best to maintain my unimpressed expression. “Maybe tall for a gnome, but not a woman.”

My jaw drops. “A gnome! You’re comparing me to a gnome before our first date has even started?” This boy's nerve is astounding, even more so as a feline smile graces his face.

“Love, we’ve been dating for quite some time now. This is just the first time you’ve accepted it.”

His words shock me almost as much as his actions as he grasps my waist and asks if I’m ready. “Ready? Ready for what?” I ask in confusion.

“I’m going to lift you over the bank, so your shoes don’t get ruined.” He says this so casually, as if I’m not a professional athlete who weighs over a hundred and seventy pounds.

“You can’t lift me. I’m a professional athlete Roman, I’m pretty heavy.”

“Just zip it, Langley,” he sighs. The hand around my waist pulls me flush with his chest, while the other wraps around the backs of my knees .

I can feel the movement of his long leg stepping over the snowbank, and then his weight shifts as he swings the other one around. My feet are gently placed on the sidewalk as I stare wide-eyed at him.

He leans over to shut my door, locking the truck and extending his hand to me in one fluid motion. “Holy cow, that was hot,” I say under my breath. I earn a chuckle and an eye roll from my man as he starts to pull me away.

“Where are we going anyway?” I ask and look around the semi-populated street. The people range from wearing full winter coats to short skirts and tank tops. I smile at those girls, impressed they got out of the house in those outfits.

“We are going, right here,” he says casually. He pulls open a heavy glass door, one of those fancy ones where the handles run along the entire thing. “After you.” Swooping his hand out dramatically, I add an exaggerated jaunt to my step as I walk inside.

It takes me a second to realize we’re currently in New Moon, which is one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. I only know because my parents went here for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and even then, they booked a year in advance .

“Roman,” I whisper his name and attempt to pull him aside. “You don’t need to do something like this for our first date. I just want to spend time with you, I don’t care what we do.” Have I always wanted to eat here? Obviously, but I can’t let him do this as a first date.

His eyes visibly soften at my words, and I flush as he quietly approaches me. His palm rests on my hip and then slowly moves to circle my waist. I’m pulled flush against his chest as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “When you say things like that, all I want to do is treat you like this.”

The main entryway is empty as he pulls back and leaves a languid kiss on my cheek. The contact mixed with his new cedar cologne causes a million butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

“You are just obsessed with me, Langley,” he laughs into my hair. I lightly smack his shoulder, but the grin on my face negates any hostility behind the action.

There’s a small coat room further down the hall, and Roman passes both our jackets to the attendant. His hand falls to my lower back as he guides me down a very dark hallway, and I survey the framed photos lining the space.

As we reach the end, a woman in a skin tight black dress stands at the ready with menus in her hand. “ Good evening, Mr. Huxley. Please follow me.” My brow furrows in confusion at the fact that we didn’t even check in, but Roman doesn’t seem bothered as I follow behind him.

The restaurant is very gothic, with tall ceilings and chandeliers emitting a low light. Giant framed art uniformly lines the walls, and everything is organized mathematically. The space looks very uniform, but the chatter from the full tables provides a cozy environment.

We follow the lady further to the back of the restaurant, and I notice the people in the surrounding tables all look to be couples in the midst of intimate conversations. The sound of hushed arguing stands out in the atmosphere, and I look to the booth on the opposite side of the room.

Long, curly dark hair springs out from behind a menu, and two guys sit on either side of the figure. Both men are pulling baseball hats down over their heads, and I watch as the woman and man whisper angrily to each other.

I have no idea how Aurora got ready and beat me here, or how those idiots managed to get a table, but I smile to myself as Roman pulls out my chair for me. As he pushes my seat back in, I see his head whip towards the booth, and an angry frown takes over his face.

He angrily steps towards them, but I quickly snake my hand out and catch his wrist. Looking down, he stares at the place I’m gripping him, and slowly looks up at me.

“It’s fine. They’re harmless and dumb, let’s get our date started,” I say calmly, and do my best to put him at ease.

I know Roman just wants this to go well, and I think it’s funny that they’re here.

I’ll also not forget this moment for when Aurora starts dating.

With one more glance towards Landon, Xander, and Aurora, he sighs and moves to the seat across from me.

He seems to push them from his mind as he extends his hand across the small table and lays his palm up.

I can’t explain why this moment is so intimate, but I feel special as I gently place my hand in his.

The waitress appears before us then, introducing herself as she flips our glasses upward and pours us each some red wine. We thank her, and she promises to return soon.

Instinctively, I swish the wine in the glass, and I lean in closer to Roman. “Isn’t it kind of weird that she just poured us wine? Aren’t we supposed to order it?” Roman starts to squirm in his seat, and my suspicions immediately rise. “What did you do?” I say with accusation heavy in my tone.

With a face that depicts both his nerves and excitement, he releases my hand to put both of his in front of him. “Alright, I want you to know I’m fully invested in this Rhodes. I’m fully invested in us, and I thought bringing you here is a great start.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t confused, but I don’t interrupt as he continues.

Picking up his wine glass, he raises it towards me in a toasting motion, and I slowly mirror his movement.

“Now, I know you don’t know much about me, so I thought we could spend this time getting to know each other.

And even though you know a lot less about me than I do about you, the last thing I want to do on our first date is just hear myself talk.

“I would love it if we could take turns, each of us saying something about ourselves and the other can listen? Yours don’t even have to be major secrets or anything. Truthfully, I just want to hear your voice.”

I can’t help but smile ruefully at him. The fact that he doesn’t want to spend the whole night talking about himself makes me more excited for this night already.

But I’m dying to know about the service here first and foremost. “I agree,” I say hesitantly.

“As long as you go first, and you start with the reason people seem to know you at this restaurant.” His gaze looks almost impressed with me as I stare back with a challenge in my eyes.

Tipping my wine in his direction, I wait to see if he accepts my terms.

The clink of his glass solidifies our arrangement, and I take a slow sip of the wine. I’m pleasantly surprised when I taste one of my favourite brands, and my gaze shoots to his in bafflement.

“I’ll start us off strong, Langley,” he says with confidence.

“The wine the waitress poured is your favourite red. The one we drank at the team banquet last year, and you said, ‘you loved it so much you wish you could marry it’.” My eyes widen dramatically, and he keeps his gaze locked with mine.

“I never knew I would be jealous of a glass of wine, but it happens,” he says easily.

“I also had a set menu for tonight that I planned, and it consists of all your favourite foods. I’ll have you look through it, but if you want something else, feel free to get whatever you like.” I know I’m staring at him with a dumbfounded expression, but I can barely comprehend what I’m hearing.

“Anyway, this is a good time to tell you, this is my family’s restaurant.”