Page 8

8

Max

The night sky was inky black but filled with glimmering stars, the half-moon high among them like a king reigning over his subjects.

When we got to the mountain, that pristine view overhead competed with the slopes below it. Besides the ski lodge glowing with warm light, the mountain and all its fresh white snow was lit up in neon blue and pink. Every piste was lined with LED lights, and there were more floodlights overhead so people could make their way to the lifts.

White Pine Summit had twenty-six trails with about half open for Midnight Madness, which was basically night skiing. Trails opened at eight p.m. and closed at midnight. In addition to the open slopes, there was live music, open concessions, and an area with fire pits and seating.

Personally, I liked night skiing better than daytime. I liked the dark sky, the absence of the glare of the snow, and the fact there were fewer people around to get on my nerves. The lines for the lift were shorter too.

“Look at that slope over there,” Lars exclaimed, gesturing off to the left. “It’s red and white.”

Following his direction, I looked at the run that was lit with red LEDs and designed to look striped with the white snow.

“That’s the candy cane run, angel. It is getting close to Christmas,” Win said.

“Let’s do that one first.” Lars reached for Win’s hand to drag him off. Once he figured out no one around here would be butt hurt that he could literally outski all of us, he turned into the Energizer Bunny.

Win glanced at me, his face filled with amusement. “He’s so adorable.”

“Tell me that after he leaves you in his dust another twelve times,” I mused.

“I will,” he said, confident. “You coming?”

I glanced at Wes who was gazing up at one of the blue runs. “Nah, we’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure?” Lars asked.

I turned, hearing the slight apprehension in his tone and noting he was glued to Win’s side now instead of trying to haul him away.

“It’s all good, blondie.” I assured him.

“Blondie!” Win sputtered, eyes narrowing on my face.

I smirked, feeling the glare, but kept my attention on his other half. “Nothing to do with you or how well you shred the mountain. You can beat me later. I’m gonna grab some solo time with Wes,” I said, thumbing toward my other half.

Lars studied me a second longer, and I let him look. The list of people I would go out of my way to not hurt their feelings was insanely small.

Insanely small = two people. And hell, half the time, I just told Win how it was.

But there was a third name on that list now. Hadn’t planned on adding anyone else. Then Win brought home Lars, and well, he was my brother now. And even though he and I were completely different, we were kindred in being abuse survivors. And where my experiences made me an asshole, it made Lars less so. That made me feel protective of him.

And after seeing his face the other day when he admitted that bag of skin he called an ex had beat him for being better than him than skiing? Yeah, I’d take a minute to make sure he didn’t think I was about to repeat that cycle.

The crunch of snow and swish of Wes’s coat announced him right before his cheek hit the side of my shoulder. “Your coat is cold,” he complained.

“It’s snowing,” I deadpanned.

Pouting, he pulled his face back. Grunting, I ripped my glove off with my teeth and pushed his head back down, sliding my warm, bare hand between his skin and my jacket.

His cheek was icy against my heated palm, but I didn’t complain, just cupped more of it around his chilly face.

Sighing softly, he pushed a little farther against me but then stiffened and would have pulled away if not for my gloved hand anchoring him. “You’re going to get cold.”

“I’ll be fine, Nemo,” I said quietly, and he settled against me again.

“What the hell is with the nickname?” Win demanded. Guess he was still stuck on that.

“I’ve been calling him Nemo half his life,” I mused.

Wes made a strangled sound, and I had to bite back my smirk.

“You know damn well I’m not talking about Wes,” Win griped. “Since when do you think you can call my boyfriend blondie?”

“He’s my brother,” I said, matter of fact. Turning my attention to Lars, I said, “If anyone bothers you, let me know.”

Win sputtered, his face turning the same shade of red as the candy cane run. He was about to blast me, but Lars moved first, coming forward and plowing into me and Wes, hooking his arms around us. I froze with my arm pinned in the middle and my hand still beneath Wes’s face.

It was a group hug right there in the snow.

I hated group hugs.

“Thank you,” Lars said low. “Thank you for understanding.”

Fuck.

I looked over his shoulder to Win, expecting to see steam billowing out of his head. Instead, he was staring at us with a look that probably mirrored mine.

We are both fucking whipped.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” Win said, jabbing a finger at me. “But no more.”

Lars went back to Win’s side, hooking his arm through his. “Come on, min hund , let’s go ski.”

The pair went off, and I glanced down at Wes whose face tilted up to meet my eyes. “He got to you.”

I made a rude noise. “He’s Win’s choice. Our family now.”

Wes smirked like the little brat he was. “He’s been our family for a while.”

“And I’ve always had his back.”

Wes nodded. “But now it’s not out of obligation to Win. It’s because you like him.”

Grabbing Wes around the waist, I turned, tugging him so our chests were pressed together. “You jealous?”

The yellow beanie shifted when he raised his brows. “Should I be?”

Using my ungloved hand, I ripped the bright material right off his head, freeing his rumpled curls, and buried my fingers deep. Something in me loosened, as it always did when my fingers knotted in his curls, and I tugged his face up so I could bring mine down and claim his frosty lips.

I didn’t pull back at the nippy temperature of his skin, instead nipping back, lightly gnawing on his wind-stung lips until they parted with a sigh, and I swept my tongue into the warmth of his mouth. He whimpered low, and I gulped down the sound, twisting our tongues together while tightening the fist in his hair. His neck loosened, giving up all control, and I cradled the back of his skull, moving effortlessly against his now warm, pillow-soft lips. Our tongues flirted, a flick here, a caress there, and the teasing caresses made me impatient. I deepened the kiss until our mouths were completely fused and we were forced to come up for air.

“Maxi.” His breathy sigh expelled a white cloud that drifted between us. That nickname was so bad it was criminal, but I let him get away with it every single time.

“Nothing even comes close to how much I love you,” I told him. “Nothing ever will.”

His cheeks were bright pink when he leaned down to grab my glove that had fallen into the snow at our feet. After shaking it out, he held it open. “Your fingers will get cold.”

I kept my eyes trained on his brown ones while I jammed my hand back into the glove, watching him as he looked down to make sure the glove was on the right way and then tugged his beanie back on.

“Let’s go ski now,” he said, gesturing toward the lift that would take us up to the run lit up in blue neon light.

“Hey.” I was gruff, pulling him back around.

The tilt of his lips told me he knew exactly what he was doing. Brat.

“Don’t you have something to say?” I inquired.

He pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Nope.”

The little shit started walking off.

“Wesley Evan Sinclair.”

His laugh was a burst of sudden sound, and it carried on the wind as he spun, chocolate eyes sparkling and curls sticking out from beneath the crooked cap.

Before I could growl, he launched himself at me, kicking up snow with his heavy ski boots. My breath whooshed out when I caught him, my thigh muscles trembling under the onslaught.

He shifted, rebalancing some of his weight, and tucked his arms around my neck.

“You weigh a ton in all this ski shit. I ought to dump you on your ass.”

“I love you, Maxi.”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, brat.”

“I love you so much that I let you tattoo your name right there over my heart,” he said, pressing a gloved hand over the spot where I knew he wore my tattoo.

I never should have agreed to that piece. He used it against me all the time. But damn, did I get some satisfaction seeing my name carved right there into his skin.

“You’re the moon in my sky, reigning over all the stars, the only wish I ever had,” he whispered, pressing the tip of his cold nose to mine.

“Fuck Midnight Madness. We’re going home,” I said, shifting so he was over my shoulder, and started toward the car.

He laughed. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Maxi.”

I made it a few steps, then swung him to his feet. He wobbled a little, and I used it as an excuse to keep my hands on him. “I already bought our ski passes.”

“Help me with my skis,” he said, pointing to them lying nearby.

A few minutes later, we were halfway up the mountain. The ski lift made me feel like I was flying as wind and snowflakes brushed against our cheeks and the treetops were below us.

The snow was icier during night hours because it melted some in the daytime and then refroze when the sun and temperatures dropped. It was harder and slicker, sometimes making it more difficult to stop—which happened to be Wes’s weak spot.

Standing off the lift needed to be a quick affair because it kept moving and would knock you on your ass if you didn’t get out of its way. The second our ride lowered to the platform, we stood swiftly and moved to the side, but Wes slipped, his leg going out from under him.

I moved fast, grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him off to the side where we both landed in a tangle of limbs and skis.

“I would’ve had it,” Wes spat, trying to unravel us and stand.

“Yeah, you almost had a concussion from the bench coming at you,” I retorted.

Once we were on our feet, he planted his poles to brush the snow off his jacket. I moved in to help him, but he shot me a look and I held up my hands, staying where I was.

When he was finished, he glanced at me. “Ready.”

We moved to the top of the piste, getting in a short line of people waiting to push off. I gestured for him to go ahead of me, but he shook his head.

Sighing, I angled close. “The snow is icier than before, so be careful.”

“I’ve skied before.”

“Just dig your edge in harder if you have trouble stopping.”

“I know.”

“Just stay away from the really shiny patches.” I went on, not caring if he was annoyed. It was my job to protect him. And after what happened with Rory earlier, maybe I was feeling a little more cautious.

Thinking of that, I spun to face him completely, making sure his jacket was fully zipped and the hat covered his ears. “Are you cold?”

“It’s wintertime. And it’s snowing,” he grumbled.

“Are you sure you didn’t get wet this morning at the lake?” I pressed.

His eyes whipped to mine, some of the annoyance fading. “Are you worried?”

“Nemo, when am I not worried about you?”

He sighed loudly.

So dramatic.

“I didn’t get wet this morning. You forced me to the back of the chain, remember?” He made a face. “Like I’m some kind of weak link,” he complained. “Meanwhile, you were in the middle of it all.”

Someone had to keep Ryan from throwing himself under the ice after Rory. And I couldn’t do that if Wes put himself in danger too.

“The only weak link around here would be me if something happened to you,” I told him, not even sorry.

“You make it really hard to be irritated at your overbearing stupidity.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I hope they freeze like that.”

I laughed.

The line shifted, and it was our turn to push off. We got into position, and I glanced over at Wes. “Meet you at the bottom?”

He nodded.

I adjusted the goggles on my face.

“Maxi?”

I glanced beside me.

“I’ll be careful.”

My stomach did a little somersault. “Thanks, baby.”

“You be careful too.”

“I will,” I said, gruff.

He pushed off before me, and I watched him gain his balance. Then I took off, my skis gliding over the blue-glowing snow.

White-topped trees whizzed by, and the wind was loud in my ears. My cheeks stung, my lips tight from the cold, and my thigh muscles quivered with effort. Fuck, I loved skiing. I realized then it was for some of the same reasons I loved tattooing. Skiing required control and balance. The ability to endure the hard terrain, the challenging face of the mountain and the elements. I liked working my body and quieting my mind to focus.

Leaning in, I glanced out over the pristine trail, the glow from the lights and the darkness above it all. Inhaling some of the crisp fresh air I gazed down the path in front of me, searching for Wes. He wasn’t in my immediate line of sight, but he could have already gone over the hill just ahead.

After another passing glance and not seeing him, I refocused to go over the hill and finish the run, anticipating him waiting for me at the bottom.