Rm W/a Vu (47 page)

I
t isn’t surprising that I fell asleep so easily the night before. Sure, the flight wasn’t overly long, but I was just so relaxed after dinner and a few glasses of wine—not to mention having worn ourselves out having sex in front of the fire. It was the perfect first night here.

There’s a bit of a chill in the air when I first wake up, but instead of getting out of bed to turn up the heat, I scoot back on the bed until I feel the warmth of Greyston’s body against my own. When my feet touch his, he groans and jerks them back.

“Your feet are freezing,” he croaks, draping his arm over me and pulling me closer while avoiding my feet. He gives it a few seconds before tucking his flannel-clad legs and bare feet against mine. “I can go turn up the heat, if you want.”

I hum contemplatively. “I think you’re doing a bang-up job of that right now.”

Greyston chuckles, kissing my neck and tugging the blanket up over our shoulders. “Why, Miss Foster, are you trying to seduce me?”

“No,” I say with a laugh. “I’m trying not to freeze to death.”

Greyston sees my playfulness as a reason to retaliate, and soon, he’s tickling me relentlessly until I’m thrashing beneath the thick comforter and howling with laughter. Moments later, the blanket is down by our feet, completely defeating its purpose, and I roll off the bed and away from Greyston.

Unlike in Phoenix, I’m dressed in flannel pajamas. I contemplated wearing one of my new pieces of lingerie for Greyston last night, but it was quite a bit chillier in our room than it was in front of the fire, so I decided to save it for tonight.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, picking out a pair of jeans and a white turtleneck sweater.

Greyston makes the bed while I get dressed, but his focus isn’t solely on the bed. I don’t fail to notice that his eyes are on me the entire time I’m changing. If the look in his eyes didn’t turn me on so damn much, I’d probably find it a little creepy. Okay, no I wouldn’t.

“Well,” he begins, “we’ll go to the ski resort today and get in some time on the slopes and then maybe go for dinner tonight.”

I pull my sweater on and nod. “Cool.” It suddenly occurs to me that I’ll likely be on the beginner hill for the entire day while I learn. “You’re not going to waste your mad skills babysitting me on the kiddie hill, are you?” Greyston regards me curiously. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me all day. You shouldn’t have to miss out because I’ve never done this before.”

Laughing, Greyston tosses our pillows into place and walks over to me. “I won’t be missing out,” he assures me. “We’ve got all week, and I’m confident you’ll do just fine and will be itching to hit the more advanced trails soon enough. I’d prefer to make sure you’re comfortable on them before allowing that to happen.”

After Greyston dresses in jeans and a blue sweater, we head downstairs for breakfast. While I start cooking, Greyston calls Gemma to see if she can still get us passes to the resort. It still stings to know that the two of them have a history, but I believe wholeheartedly that Greyston would never betray me the way Ben did. Of course, this doesn’t stop me from eavesdropping on his end of the conversation.

“So you’ll be there in an hour?” There’s a pause while Gemma says something. “Cool… I’ve got my equipment stored here, so I won’t need rentals… No. Mom’s skis are here, too… Oh, right. Actually, let me ask her.” I look up from the cooking bacon and turn toward the island where Greyston is sitting. “I forgot to ask, but do you want to ski or board?”

“Ummm…” I’d never really given it much thought, actually. I probably should have.

“My mom’s skis are here, but if you wanted to board, Gemma’s got an extra one you can borrow. You’re about the same height, so it’d be fine.”

I think about my options for a minute, trying to figure out what might be easier, and I’m honestly not sure. If either of them are anything like water-skiing or wake-boarding, I’d probably have to go with wake-boarding, because I had a nasty habit of getting my water skis crossed and wiping out. Yeah, it’s probably a smarter choice.

“I think I want to snowboard?” I tell him, sounding a little unsure before I nod resolutely. “Yes. Definitely snowboard.” Smiling, Greyston relays the information to Gemma and tells her we’ll be heading to the resort after breakfast. 

By the time he hangs up the phone, the bacon and eggs are done, and I take them to the small table in the kitchen where Greyston joins me. While we eat, I ask questions about snowboarding: how to distribute my weight, what to expect…you know, things that will help keep me off my ass. Greyston answers as many questions as he can, but he assures me that there’s only so much that he can tell me that’ll actually help me. Apparently being thrown right in is the best way to learn. Awesome. I’ll be on my ass in half a second flat.

After cleaning the kitchen, Greyston grabs his gear and runs out to the car, starting it to warm it up. I’m just about to put my jacket and boots on when he stops me. “Before you put your boots on, we should determine your lead foot.”

“My what?”

“The foot you’ll lead with on the board,” he clarifies.

I shrug. “Well, I’m right-handed, so…”

Greyston chuckles. “That doesn’t always determine your dominant foot for boarding.”

I nod. “Oh, okay. How do I do that?”

“It’s going to sound a little strange, but one way is to run across the floor and slide. Whichever foot you put in front is usually your lead foot.”

This sounds like it has the potential for injury. “What other ways are there?”

He smirks. “Well, that was really the best and nicest way.” He tries to suppress a chuckle, but fails miserably. “I could do to you what I did to Toby…”

“Which was?” I inquire with an arched brow.

“I stood behind him and pushed him. He stepped out with his left foot, and that turned out to be his lead foot,” he explains.

This sounds even more dangerous than the other way. My reflexes are usually a little slow, so I’d likely land on my face because my legs would fail to react in a situation like that. “Okay. First of all,” I begin, smiling, “that’s just mean. Second, I hope you’ve got video of that somewhere. And third, I’ll take option one.”

“I figured you might. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to push you anyway,” he tells me with a wink.

Feeling a little nervous—because I’m sure I’m about to wipe out and make a total ass out of myself—I cross the room, telling myself that as long as I don’t have to slide a long distance, I should be fine. Sadly, I know that what I want to do and what’s actually going to happen are going to be two totally different things. This is going to be interesting.

I take a deep breath and hold it as I take a few quick strides across the hardwood floor and then turn to the side. My right foot taking the lead as I slide toward Greyston. I’m pleasantly surprised when I stay on my feet and don’t stumble at all. A small victory—yet one still worthy of celebrating—for sure.

“Okay. Right foot it is,” Greyston declares, holding my jacket open for me to put on. “I always knew you were a little goofy.”

My jaw drops. I’m not sure what to think or how to defend myself, not that I’m given the chance, because Greyston leans forward and kisses my cheek. “It’s a term used for those whose lead foot is their right.”

“Well, it’s a horrible term,” I argue somewhat childishly, zipping my jacket up. “What foot do you lead with?”

“My left.”

“So, if I’m
goofy
, then what the hell are you?” I ask, truly curious.

Greyston shrugs. “Leading with your left is considered regular. But that’s not to say that any one way is more normal than the other. It’s no different than being right- or left-handed. They just have odd terminology for it.”

Accepting Greyston’s explanation, I slip my boots on before grabbing my ski pants, mittens, and knitted hat, and we head out to the car. The cold air shocks me, rendering me momentarily breathless when I inhale. I can’t get to the car fast enough as the cool air cuts through my jeans and nips at my bare face. Greyston treats it as though it’s no big deal, which makes me feel like a total wuss.

“You’ll acclimate quickly,” he assures me, opening my door for me. After I’ve settled in my seat, he closes it and gets behind the wheel.

My teeth are chattering slightly, and even though I’m already in the slightly warmer vehicle, I pull my hat and mittens on. “Are you telling me you’re already used to this?”

Greyston laughs. “Not exactly, but I’ve experienced colder stays here when I was younger, so I know things could be worse.” He reaches over and places a hand on my knee. “You’ll warm up as soon as we get moving. Trust me.”

We drive to the resort and park the car. Greyston and I grab our things and head into the main building to meet Gemma and Dom, only to find she’s alone. She smiles widely upon spotting us.

“Oh, good, you’re here.” She hands me the board she’s been holding. “Juliette, I brought this for you to use today. No sense shelling out money for a rental if you don’t have to, right?”

“Definitely,” I agree. “Thanks.”

Greyston looks around. “Where’s Dom? I thought he was joining us. I was looking forward to meeting him.”

Gemma shrugs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, he had some stuff to do today around town. I’m hoping he’ll be able to join us for dinner. I think you’ll really like him.” Something feels off, but the ring on her left finger tells me I’m being ridiculous.

After renting my boots and buying a pair of goggles, the three of us head outside. Gemma offers to come with Greyston and me to the beginner hill, but I decline. I don’t need more witnesses to what’s sure to go down on that hill—me, and not in the kinky sex way that I like. No. I imagine something straight out of a cartoon where I fall and roll so fast that I form a giant snowball. While I’m sure the chances of that are near impossible, there’s a part of me that feels confident that if it’s going to happen to anyone, it’ll be me.

Gemma tells us to have fun, then heads off to the lift while Greyston and I put our ski pants and boarding boots on. Once we’re ready, we head for the beginner hill, but before we hit the lift to take us up, Greyston kneels before me, taking my board and flipping it the right way around before asking me to step onto it. Turns out Gemma is “goofy” too, which makes me feel a little more confidant. Once my right foot is in the binding, he attaches what he calls “the leash,” and explains that it’ll prevent a runaway board in the event of a wipeout.

I laugh. “In the event of?” I parrot. “You realize that there’s no question about it, right? I’m
going
to wipe out. Several times, in fact.”

Chuckling, Greyston stands up and steps onto his board with his left foot, attaching his own leash to his boot, and then he demonstrates how to push off as though we’re on skateboards, and we head toward the lift. I’m a little nervous waiting for the lift to approach, and I jump slightly when I feel it, but Greyston helps me out, and soon we’re on our way to the top of the beginner hill.

Once we’re clear of the lift, I follow Greyston. We stop at the top of the hill and he instructs me to sit down with my board perpendicular to the hill. Once I’m seated, he helps me put my other boot into its binding, and then he shows me how to make sure they’re tight enough. My feet don’t move within the bindings, and they’re secure in my boots, so Greyston deems me ready to go and helps me up. After securing his other foot into his binding, he shows me how to apply pressure to my planted foot. He decides to practice this a few times in a stationary position at the top of the hill before we attempt to go down. Which is fine by me.

“Okay,” he says, standing next to me. “You want to bend your knees and keep your back straight so that you feel balanced, okay?”

“Uh huh,” I reply nervously, slowly doing as he instructs and being sure not to go down the hill just yet. “Like this?”

“Good,” he says, “but make sure you’re not leaning your body when applying pressure.” He must recognize my confusion, so he elaborates. “Pretend you’re squashing a bug under your foot.”

“Ew,” I declare quietly, but do as he suggests.

“That’s it. Just like that. Now lean back a little…but not too much, or you’ll wind up on your ass.” He watches me, smiling wide. I feel unsteady, but I’m able to right myself before I fall. “Good. Good,” he praises. “Alternating from heel to toe is called carving. It’s a little more advanced, so we should just stick to riding your heel until you’re confident on your board.”

Beaming, I look up at Greyston, and he smiles back. “Okay, so we’re going to try the hill.” I nod, my heart hammering nervously. “Remember, I want you to ride your heel edge first, okay? It’ll act kind of like a snowplow and give you a feel for the board going slow so you can get used to it. Think you can do that?”

I visualize it in my head, and try leaning back on my board a little to see what it might feel like. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Greyston leads us forward a little, and then turns to me. “Steady and slow, all right?” I nod. “And, for whatever reason, if you feel like you’re about to bite it, lean back—not forward. It feels a hell of a lot better to fall on your ass than it does your face.”

Visions of the giant snowball replay in my mind, and I agree. “Got it.”

Greyston urges me to push off, and I do, going as slow as possible while he follows. He stays close, watching as I struggle to keep my board from pointing straight down the hill. Sure, it’s a small hill, but I still don’t want to fly down it. That’s sure to end with me smacking into a tree, the wall of a building, or another human being.

I’d like to say that my first run is wipeout-free, but it isn’t. I fall flat on my ass about thirty seconds in when I zig instead of zag. Greyston’s right there to help me back up, and while I’m embarrassed, his constant assurance that I’m doing well helps to boost my confidence a little each time. I realize that wiping out is normal, but it bruises my pride as much as it does my tailbone.

Every run down the hill gets a little easier, and I find I wipe out less and less…until Greyston suggests I try carving. I start off slow, leaning back on my heel like before, and then I lean forward the way Greyston showed me before we went down the hill the first time. I make a mistake by leaning too far forward, and when I feel myself starting to fall forward, I over-correct, leaning too far back and toppling over so hard one of my boots comes loose from its binding.