Page 5

5

Lars

Sometimes old insecurity reared its ugly head in unexpected ways. And sometimes it pinched your stomach and threatened a good time.

Truth was I loved skiing.

And I was good at it. Like really good .

At one point, I considered taking up competitive skiing instead of swimming. Skiing in Sweden is very common. In fact, Sweden is the home of the largest ski resort in Scandinavia.

So why’d I lie? To Win of all people?

Panic. Fear. Conditioning from the past. Mostly because the second I saw the slopes, watched fat snowflakes drift from the sky, and breathed in the crisp wintry air, I was transported into the past.

Into a time and place where a different version of me existed. Well, no. That’s not right because, obviously, that version still existed even if I did try and deny it. If not, I wouldn’t be lying to the man I loved most in this world. Just when I thought I’d put it all behind me, my trauma reared its ugly head, reminding me I still had work to do.

I did my best to shake it off. To silence the echoes in the back of my mind. To ignore the way my muscles tensed as if they were preparing for a fight. I was not in danger here. This was going to be fun. Amazing the amount of energy it took to “have fun” when your brain was demanding otherwise.

On impulse, I glanced around, eyes wandering until I found Prism. He was standing off to the side by a display of snow boots while everyone else stood in line, weighed down with rental equipment.

A blue beanie was pulled down over his head, slashing over his eyes, and even though it also covered his ears, I knew he had AirPods in. He saw me staring and hitched his chin at me in acknowledgment, then looked at Arsen standing in line.

I turned to Win who stood there with his skis and equipment, only in line because I needed to rent everything.

“I’m going to go look at those gloves over there,” I told him, pointing to a display.

“I’ll hold your place, angel.”

At the rack, I looked through the selection of gloves, which were mostly all the same, and chose a pair without much debate. Instead of going back to the line, I wandered over to where Prism stood.

“It’s pretty busy,” I said when I drew closer.

He nodded. “It’s quieter over here.”

I stopped beside him, fiddling with the gloves in my hand. We stood there in silence, something I was grateful for. I didn’t have to pretend around him or smile or even try to fight against myself. I just stood there knowing he was probably fighting some internal battle too.

Sure, our battles were different, but it seemed the result could be the same, and just knowing that put me at ease. His presence, which I found calm and accepting, was something I really appreciated in that moment. I wondered as we stood there if I should tell him. That standing here with him just then made me feel a little less alone.

I said nothing, though, instead soaking up the camaraderie I felt with him in that moment, grateful for it but also maybe feeling a little guilty that his anxiety eased mine. Some of the knots in my stomach loosened, and the tightness in the back of my neck dulled.

I don’t know how long I stood there, but it was long enough that the line had shifted and Win was closer to the front. I would have to rejoin him soon since I was the one who needed the skis.

“Arsen’s getting my skis for me,” Prism said out of the blue.

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

He continued. “The crowd and the line… it’s a little overwhelming for me.”

A little surprised, I turned my head to glance at him. We all knew of his misophonia and anxiety, but he didn’t talk about it. Not since he’d told us about it.

“That’s okay,” I answered. “We all struggle with something.”

He was quiet a moment.

“Arsen helps.” He cleared his throat. “Makes it a little easier.”

My eyes strayed to the dark-headed DJ standing in line with Kruger and Jess. His arms were full of gear, and his black ski jacket was unzipped.

“I’m glad,” I said.

“You should talk to him.”

My eyes flew back to Prism. “To Arsen?”

He shook his head quickly. “Win.”

“Win,” I echoed quietly.

“About whatever’s bothering you. He might make it a little easier.”

More surprise rippled through me. Almost incredulously, my stare whipped back to the quiet swimmer.

He half smiled. “When you’re very quiet… you hear a lot.”

My chest tightened a little. He understands.

“Sometimes talking is hard,” I said, voice low.

“Yeah, I know.” He agreed. “But he loves you.”

A lump formed in my throat. No matter how many times I swallowed, it wouldn’t go down.

The line shifted again, and Win glanced around to find me. The second he did, he smiled. Such a dopey smile. Those dimples were so extra.

Extra adorable.

He gestured for me to get in line, and I nodded. I started forward but then paused, turning back to Prism. “You made it a little easier too,” I told him.

His eyes widened.

“Thanks, P.”

His head bobbed. “Sure.”

We went through the line, got all the equipment we needed, and with passes clipped to the zippers on our coats, everyone headed out to the slopes.

The sky was gray, but the day was bright. The white powder covering everything reflected light brilliantly, and I squinted against it. After snapping into my skis and pulling on the new gloves, an unnecessary purchase, I sank the poles into the snow. The familiar crunch and glide of the skis underfoot brought a fissure of exhilaration at the idea of flying over the mountain, the wind biting into my cheeks.

“You should have brought sunglasses, angel,” Win said, stepping in front of me and angling so our skis didn’t tangle. Cupping his hands, he put them over my eyes to shield them from the glare.

He, of course, was wearing the aviators he loved so much. If he left home without them, it would probably be some sort of national emergency.

“I don’t need sunglasses. I have goggles,” I told him.

“I’m wearing both.”

“ Alla hons hemma ,” I quipped. You don’t have all your hens at home.

“Now why would I need hens at home, angel, when I have you?”

I sputtered.

He grinned. Dimples popping, teeth more blinding than the snow. “Surprised you, didn’t I?” he mused. “You insult me in Swedish so much, angel, I’m starting to learn the language.”

A spear of guilt pierced me. Did I insult him that much? Even after all these months, it was still hard to be so vulnerable to him. He disarmed me in ways I never imagined. I guess my sarcasm was sort of my armor.

He deserves better.

“What’s that look?” Win pondered, grabbing my face with gloved hands to lift it.

“You know I love you, right?” I whispered.

With the hand not holding my face, he pushed up the aviators so I could see the sincerity in his golden-hued eyes. He was my sun. Warm and bright. “I know.” He agreed. “And I love it when you give me hell.”

That lump was back in my throat. “I lied to you,” I confessed, the words ripping right out of me, painful and raw.

He jolted, hand falling from my face as he straightened. “About what?”

I glanced down at my feet. “I’m not a bad skier.”

“But you said?—”

“I know what I said,” I shot out, then grimaced. In a much more even tone, I said, “I lied.”

Win pursed his lips. “I knew you were being squirrely.”

I wrinkled my nose. “What?”

“Why’d you lie, angel?”

His tone was soft, cajoling even.

It made me suspicious. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Aren’t you mad?”

He shifted, and I stepped back.

Win’s eyes narrowed, the sun slipping behind the clouds. “Did you just flinch away from me?”

“No,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yes, you did.”

“I did not flinch.”

He stepped forward, and I stiffened. He froze, a frown pulling down his kissable mouth. “I’m not mad at you, Lars,” he implored, keeping himself planted where he was. “But maybe you could tell me why you think I am.”

“Because I lied. Even after you asked me directly.”

“And why did you lie?”

This was stupid. The conversation going in circles. And look at him… being patient. Even when I knew he probably wanted to demand answers. Prism was right, something I obviously knew but maybe needed to be reminded of.

He loves me.

He is not my ex.

“I’m, ah, actually really good at skiing.”

“So what Rush said about it being your favorite besides swimming, that’s true.”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, you were saying how good you are. And how Wes can’t keep up with you…”

“Yeah?”

“And I’m better than you,” I rushed out, the words feeling like a grenade. The minute they were out, I waited for the explosion.

He blinked. The corner of his lip curled up. “You’re better than me?”

Was he amused?

“Yes.” I was succinct.

“How do you know that?”

My stomach cramped. The cold air I sucked in burned my windpipe. “The university team in Sweden tried to recruit me. I couldn’t because it conflicted with swimming.”

And swimming seemed a little safer at the time.

His brows shot up, disappearing beneath the hat on his head. “No shit?”

I nodded.

He made a sound. “All right then, angel, let’s see what you got.”

I glanced across the snow toward the lift. “I can’t.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll be embarrassed if I beat you anyway?” He challenged.

Rationally, I recognized it for what it was. My boyfriend teasing me. He did it every day. All day. It was practically his love language.

But rationale seemed in short supply right now. “I’m afraid you will be.”

He stopped and turned back. The look on his face had all the words I’d been holding stumbling right out.

“I used to have to hide how good I was. I beat him once. Showed him up and embarrassed him.” I swallowed. “He was so mad…” I shook my head, completely horrified that my vision was blurring.

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, yanking me into a cold chest. I stiffened, but he shushed me overhead.

“It’s just me, angel. I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I swear to God I’d never. I understand now, okay? It’s all right. I got you.”

My hands came up to grab his arms, squeezing tight to try and get to the man through all our layers.

“He didn’t even wait till we got home,” I declared, my breath coming in gasps. “He used his pole to trip me, drove the end of his ski into my ribs. Then when we went to change, he, ah… beat me right there in the locker room. Then he yelled at me for limping on the way to the car.”

The arms around me tightened, one coming up to cover my head. He rocked us soothingly, our skis clashing as he moved. “That’s enough now.” His voice was hoarse. “You don’t have to tell me anything else.”

“But it’s all right there,” I said, miserable. “It’s been replaying in my mind since I saw the slopes. It was the last time I went skiing. He said I was a showoff and if he caught me skiing again, he’d break my leg.”

A growl rumbled overhead, catching in the wind and swirling with the snow.

“You should have told me this sooner,” he rasped.

“I tried to ignore it. I just wanted to have a good time.”

Firm hands pulled me away from his chest. The wind stung my wet lashes, and I vaguely wondered if my fallen tears would turn to icicles.

“Angel, we can have a good time anywhere. We didn’t have to come here for that.”

“I wanted to,” I confessed, not looking at him but at the pine trees beyond his shoulder. “I missed skiing.”

“Hey.” His voice was soft, and it made my lip quiver. “Look at me.”

I couldn’t.

“Lars Forsberg Erikson, look at me right now.”

Surprise had my eyes snapping to his. He grunted in satisfaction. “Good boy,” he whispered. “There’s my angel.”

“I’m sorry I lied,” I professed, voice shaky. “I-I—my mind took over a-and…”

“Shh,” he shushed, pressing his lips right against my stammering ones. I whimpered on contact, body sagging in his hold.

He made a sound of approval and deepened the kiss, sweeping into my mouth and muffling everything else.

I leaned in, the skis on my feet sliding behind me, and I stumbled farther into his chest. Our lips unlocked, and he caught me, arms going under my arms to pull me upright.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he mused. The softness in his demeanor had my lip wobbling all over again.

He kissed it, humming softly. “Enough of that,” he ordered, pulling back. “Listen to me. I’m not mad that you lied. You were just trying to protect yourself. I can’t even imagine what it’s like having flashbacks of something so cruel. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m more than willing to say it a million times. No. More than that if you need to hear it. You’re so strong. The longer we’re together, the more I watch you fight the demons someone else plagued you with, the more in awe of you I am. Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard. I love you so much, you know that?”

I didn’t say anything, just leaned into his chest and listened to his words.

“And fuck him. Fuck him all the way to hell’s basement. He tried to take something you love, but I won’t let him. We’re going skiing today, you’re going to beat the pants off me, and I’m gonna be so proud of you for it. I’m gonna brag to everyone that my boyfriend not only has a magic dick but is the best skier on the mountain.”

A laugh bubbled out of me.

His smile was so infectious, so warm that I felt it even though I didn’t look up.

“We’re gonna have the best time. Create memories that will overshadow the ones that came before.”

“Promise?”

“Do monkeys have tails?”

I rolled my eyes.

“And just so you know, I’m not gonna go easy on you up there. I’m gonna make you work for it. If you think you can beat this demon, then bring it on.”

“I know I can,” I said, still shy.

Win stepped back, eyes twinkling. “First one down the mountain gets a blow job.”

I scoffed.

He yanked his glove off with his teeth, letting it dangle between them. He looked even more like a dog than usual.

Min hund.

Pushing his newly bared hand between us, he gestured for us to shake on it.

“You’re serious?” I asked.

He spat the glove at his feet. “I never joke about blow jobs.”

Well, that was true.

I reached out my hand, but he made a rude sound. “This is a skin shake.”

“A what?” I wondered.

“Take off your glove, Lars.”

I pulled mine off with my other hand because, unlike him, I am not an animal.

Our palms met, and his big, warm fingers wrapped around mine. We shook only once, and then he leaned in and kissed me fast.

“Bet,” he said. “I can already taste your foreskin on my tongue.”

Desire slid through me like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“At least you admit you will lose.”

“Your dick in my mouth? Who’s the loser here?”

I smiled. “ Jag ?lskar dig ,” I told him. I love you.

“ Jag ?lskar dig ,” he repeated.

His pronunciation was still shit.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Max said, skidding to a stop and spraying a wall of white at us. His ski outfit was completely black, and the goggles on his eyes were so tinted I couldn’t see his face.

“Did you already do a run?” Win accused.

Wes slid to a stop just behind Max. His pants were black, but his jacket was black and white striped and his white goggles had a mirrored reflection.

“If you two went any slower, I’d have to slap an expiration date on your ass.”

“You aren’t authorized to touch Lars’s ass,” Win quipped.

“But he is yours?” I wondered.

Wes shook his head.

“Seriously, what the fuck are you two doing? If you wanted to admire the view, you should have stayed home,” Max bitched.

“We were talking.” Win’s voice was tight.

Max paused, then slid the blacked-out goggles onto his black hat. His eyes went straight to me. “What’d he do?”

I jolted.

Win made a sound. “Fuck off, bro. Like I’d do anything to him.”

“Not you, numb nuts,” Max tossed out, eyes boring into me. “ Him .”

I swallowed thickly. Was I just see-through today, or were my friends really good at reading people?

“You can’t just ask that, Max,” Wes told him.

“He’s my brother,” he said as though that were his final answer.

I shifted, not sure what to say.

“We’re not talking about it—” Win started, but my voice cut him off.

“He beat me for being a better skier than him.”

Max’s tongue slid over his teeth. “I ever see him again, I’m going to kill him.”

“You can have his corpse after I’m done killing him,” Win argued.

Wes glided closer. “Are you okay?” he asked me.

At least he was normal. The other two were still standing around plotting murder.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just, ah, had some flashbacks is all,” I said by way of explanation.

“I know a good way you can forget,” Wes said, mischief in his tone.

“What’s that?” I mused.

“Leave my brother in the dust on this mountain.” The pure glee Wes found in the idea of that alone made me laugh.

But then that little niggle of doubt wormed its way back in. “Do you think it would make him mad?”

Wes pulled up his goggles and met my gaze. “He won’t get mad. You’re safe with him. With all of us.”

“Even Max? He looks like he belongs in a gang in that outfit.”

Wes laughed. So loud that the arguing idiots looked over at us.

“What’s so funny?” Win wanted to know.

Wes slapped me on the shoulder. “They’re only dangerous to people who threaten us. But you? You can do whatever you want.”

“Get your asses to the lift. I want to see Lars outski Win,” Max called.

After jamming the glove back on my hand, I skied over to the three and we went to the lift. After a short wait in line, Win and I were side by side, heading higher up the mountain.

I glanced down at the run in time to see a figure in a bright-red coat ski past another figure in blue. Jamie and Ryan.

“You doing okay?” Win asked, drawing my attention.

I turned to him and smiled, swinging my feet a little in the air. “I’m good, min hund ,” I said, laying my cheek on his shoulder.

“If you get any more bad feelings or memories, I want to know.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Chase them away.”

“Ja.” I agreed.

Snow started falling, the large flakes never in a straight line, always zig-zagging and fluttering every which way.

“They fall like they’re drunk,” I mused.

“Thayyy tath guud,” Win enunciated, and I lifted my head to see his nose in the air, mouth wide open, and tongue hanging out.

“ Min hund ,” I groaned. “What are you doing?”

“Tasting the sky,” he said and patted my thigh. “C’mon, angel, have a taste.”

I stared, and he patted my thigh again. Sighing, I stuck out my tongue, and after a moment, a snowflake dropped onto my tongue. I made a sound of surprise as it melted instantly.

“Doesn’t taste as good as me,” Win whispered in my ear.

I turned my face, and our noses collided.

“Did you really mean it, about me skiing?”

“Fuck yeah, I meant it. Ski your little heart out, sweetheart. I can’t wait to watch.”

Ahead of us, Max and Wes got off the lift.

“Get ready,” Win said, grabbing my elbow as if I needed help. I didn’t scold him, though, because the gesture was sweet.

Moments later, we moved swiftly off the platform and onto the mountain. A sharp whistle cut through the air, and I looked up. Rush and Landry were just ahead. I waved, and the four of us skied to where they waited.

“My kidney,” Rush said, and I snorted. “We ready to get our ski on.”

Win pushed between us. “Back it up, bro. Lars’s first run is mine.”

“We’ve already been down twice!” Landry said, then glanced at me. “Is everything okay?”

I felt the sharpening of Rush’s attention and nodded. “Everything’s good.”

“You sure?” Rush asked.

“Ja.”

“Get your Swedish ass over here, Lars,” Max yelled. He was holding the line for me and Win.

Not wanting to make everyone wait too long, I skied over with Win. After planting my poles and testing my footing, I lowered my blue goggles and stared down the mountain. Nerves and excitement fluttered around inside me, making me a little jittery but also kinda happy.

It had been so long since I could ski the way I wanted.

“I’m probably rusty,” I said.

Win laughed. “Don’t make excuses now, angel. If I win, it’s fair and square.”

I nodded and started to go, but he caught my arm. “And if you win, I’m gonna be obnoxiously proud. Don’t forget the bet. That dick is mine.”

“Win,” I hissed.

“Count us down, Wes!” Win called.

I shook my head as Wes counted down.

“Three-two-one—GO!”

I pushed off, my stomach dropping as adrenaline surged. My skis glided over the snow, which was perfectly packed, and exhilaration filled me so full that I let out a loud, “ Whoop! ”

The wind rushed past me, and I cut through it as snow crunched and sprayed my cheeks and lips. I gasped in a deep breath, the cold air shocking to my lungs but also waking me up even further and spurring me on. Bending at the knees, I leaned forward, tucking my poles and angling down. All at once, I shot forward, and an overwhelming sense of freedom wrapped around me.

The entire mountain fell away. It was just me and the terrain, the way the trees whizzed by in a blur of deep green. Snow pricked my lips, and my cheeks felt frozen. I raced over the mountain, zigzagging, the sound of the wind growing louder as I went faster and faster.

Up ahead, there was a slight dip, and someone behind me yelled, but I didn’t panic. I just went airborne, and the sensation of flying made my heart pound. The landing was slightly rough, but I stayed upright and plunged the rest of the way until the bottom of the run came into view. I spun, sliding into a perfect stop, spraying a wave of white in my wake.

Breathing heavily, I smiled, planting my poles into the snow and bending at the waist to breathe deep. God, that was incredible. Skiing gives a feeling unlike any other.

Cheeks stinging, I stood and reached for my goggles.

That was when I heard it.

The clapping. Whistling. Cheering.

For a moment, I’d forgotten I wasn’t alone. I’d forgotten I’d been “racing” Win. Tugging away the goggles, I blinked, looking around. Elite was standing nearby, all of them cheering and whistling, varying levels of surprise on their faces.

Snow crunched and the air shifted, and I glanced over in time to see Win glide right into me, arms going around my waist. Our skis clashed and tangled, nearly pitching us into the snow, but it was like he didn’t notice.

“Oh my God, babe!” Win exclaimed. “When you said you could ski, you didn’t say you could ski! ”

My nose wrinkled. “That’s exactly what I said.”

He laughed. “You went airborne!” he hollered. “I almost had a damn heart attack watching you run right for that divot, and what did you do? Fucking jumped it!”

“Is that okay?” I asked, observing the excitement playing on his face.

“Hell yes! You’ve got to teach me how to do that.”

“I thought you were a demon on the mountain.”

“Maybe I should change your name from angel to devil because, damn, Lars, that was fucking fantastic!”

“I’m a little rusty.”

His eyes widened. “You mean you can ski better than that?”

I shrugged.

“Take your skis off.”

I froze. “What?”

He pulled away. “Take them off.”

I glanced around, noting all our friends still there, hanging back a little to give me space with Win. I caught Prism’s eye, and he smiled.

I snapped the skis off and stepped in the snow in just my boots. Win’s were already off, and he grabbed me and fell backward, both of us tumbling in the snow. After he hit, he rolled, pinning me into the icy fluff.

“Win!” I shouted.

“I’m so lucky,” he said.

Stilling, I looked up into his face and the floppy chestnut hair falling into his eyes. “What?”

“I’m so fucking lucky I found you. That you love me. That you let me love you.”

“Did I beat you?” I asked.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Are you kidding? I didn’t stand a chance. I damn near fell on my ass watching you.”

“You-you liked it?”

“Fuck yes. Let’s go do it again.”

I smiled.

“There’s my angel,” he said, pecking a quick cold kiss to my lips. “I love you.”

Before I could reply, he was up and pulling me with him.

Elite converged, all of them telling me how awesome my run was and how they wanted me to do it again. My stomach bounced, my heart beat unevenly, and my cheeks hurt, but not from the freezing temperatures. From smiling.

I realized then that Win was right. The memories we were making today would far outshadow any I had from the past.

I snapped the skis back on and grinned. “Who wants to go again?”