Page 38 of Time After Time

I’m also not usually spending two weeks in the mountains with the family of a woman I once had sex with, while currently sleeping with another.

I click back into my bindings, shift my weight, and glide forward.

The slope is steep but forgiving—fresh powder gives way under my skis with a satisfying hiss.

I carve down in a wide arc, keeping my speed controlled, letting the wind cut through the lingering tension in my chest.

I don’t see her at first. I’m not expecting her as she said she’d be going to the chalet.

But then, near the bend where the ridge dips toward the tree line, I catch a flash ofblack and red.

Ember.

She’s a few meters ahead, leaning on her poles, helmet tilted slightly as she studies the valley below like it holds a private equation she’s solving in her head.

I slow down, edge in beside her, letting the skis come to a soft stop with a whisper of snow.

She turns when she hears me. Her goggles are still on. The line of her mouth twitches, just slightly, with surprise.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to find you here.”

She shrugs. “Ditto. I wasn’t sure anyone else would come this way.”

It’s a challenging run, which also makes it less crowded—not many skiers take this route.

“It’s quieter up here.”

She nods. “That’s the point.”

We stand still for a beat—two silhouettes against a sweep of snow and sky—before she adjusts her grip on her poles. “You heading down?”

“Yeah. I’ll follow your lead.”

She lifts a brow. “You sure you can keep up?”

I grin, and just like that, we take off together, the mountain rushing beneath us—full of twists that demand focus, with space wide open to let go.

We ski side by side, carving through the snow. When we reach a natural plateau halfway down, I unclip my bindings and face her.

“I didn’t tell her,” I say without preamble because it’s bothering the hell out of me.

She frowns, hesitates, not sure what I’m talking about, but then I see her eyes clear with understanding.

“She…guessed,” I explain.

She nods. Her features soften with tenderness. “You’re free to talk about your past, our past, with someone you’re dating, Ransom.”

“Have you told anyone aboutus?” My heart bangs against my ribs as I wait for her answer.

She meets my gaze and shakes her head.

Relief loosens my muscles. I don’t dwell upon why, though I suspect it has something to do with wanting to have a connection with her, one that is just ours.

I regard her with quiet consideration. “Can I ask you something?”

She tips her chin forward in permission.

“Is there any way we could start over?”