Just Friends Read online

  Turns out he didn’t think I was appropriate either.

  Gabe wanted a beautiful, sophisticated woman on his arm and I was anything but. Hell, I’d gained so much weight the last few years I had to borrow Morgan’s post-pregnancy ski pants. And I’d become, at best, a shell of the confident, aspiring novelist he’d first met.

  It’s no wonder he cheated on me. More than once.

  The rain turned to snow as I drove. Heavy white flakes the size of half dollars splatted my windshield, spreading into slushy streaks with each squeaky pass of Bessie’s worn out wipers. Scrunching down, I peered out the one clearish spot to follow the glowing red taillights ahead of me, letting them lead me up the mountain. To Jordan.

  Just the thought of Jordan Wiley caused the sizzling tightness in my core to flicker to life again. I’d never experienced such a strong physical pull toward any other man.

  Not that it mattered. When Jordan and I first met, he was neck deep in a seriously dysfunctional relationship with Lexi. After they broke up, he needed time to heal. And I got that. In fact, I agreed.

  But something about sharing an amazing powder day… All the adrenaline and endorphins… All the excitement and adventure… Back then I would have ridden the wave of après ski euphoria right into his bed if he’d been willing, interested, and available.

  I pressed my thighs together and imagined what it would be like for the trillionth time. The warm mintiness of his mouth on mine. The searing fullness as he slid into me for the first time.

  Not gonna happen.

  Even if he was interested, this time the neon damaged goods sign hung on my neck. I needed me time, not a man distracting me from rebuilding my life. Shaking the fantasy out of my head, I focused on the road.

  ****

  Excitement hummed in my veins as I strained to make out Taya’s lanky frame and sky blue jacket in the crowds of skiers piling off the shuttle. Excitement was good because I’d gotten shit for sleep.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Taya. Her sexy body pressed against mine. Her smooth skin shivering beneath my hands. My fingers coiled in her silky hair. Her hot, wet mouth on my cock.

  Mind out of the gutter, Wiley.

  I wasn’t twenty-four any more. And this wasn’t some ski bum college girl I could fuck then never see again. This was Taya.

  But damn, she was hot as she strode up the stairs, skis on her shoulder, caramel-colored braids falling down from her white helmet. She caught sight of me and smiled. The wind slammed out of my lungs like I’d just taken a hard crash on an icy slope.

  “Hey, Monroe.” I gave her a quick side-hug, trying for casual. “How was the drive up?”

  “Slow and snowy.”

  “Yeah. Thirty inches overnight, with more coming.”

  “No wonder the gondola line is already a mile long.”

  “Lucky for us we don’t have to wait in line.” She looked at me with question marks in her eyes and my smile widened. “There are perks to being a ’troller, you know. Even if I’m just a volunteer.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Wiley.”

  “I’m hurt. I thought you liked me for my charm, wit, and good looks.” I paused dramatically. “But I’ll make sure you get first tracks anyway. Because I’m that kind of guy.”

  “Like I said, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  I couldn’t resist placing my gloved hand on the small of her back to steer her through the staff gate for the gondola. Curious glances shot my way from the other mountain employees waiting to load. Nobody’d ever seen me with a woman. At least not one who didn’t work here.

  “Hey, Ernie, how’s it going?” I nodded at the lift operator. He nodded back, eyes flicking to Taya, smile growing.

  “Take the next box. This one’s pretty full.”

  “Thanks, brother.” We fist bumped.

  I grabbed Taya’s skis and racked them for her while she climbed on board. Even though we had the gondola car to ourselves, I sat close enough to press my thigh against hers. If I didn’t keep touching her, I was going to explode. Then again, if I kept touching her, I was going to explode.

  The doors slid closed with a hiss, creating a cozy bubble protecting us from the storm. Taya shed her helmet and goggles. Her clean, citrusy scent brought back a film reel of memories: the first time we’d met shooting pool, skiing the Hobacks on a powder day, drinking beer and playing cards in my old trailer, that one, mind-blowing kiss… I pulled off my goggles and helmet and let my gloved hand drop casually on to her leg. Her light green eyes shone like beach glass in the sun. I couldn’t help smiling. “So fill me in. What have you been up to the last eight years?”

  Her return smile looked too tentative. She turned her head toward the fogged window and blew out a breath.

  “Not much really.” Her eyes still didn’t meet mine. “I went to Brown, finished my Masters, then met a man on a ski trip to Killington. Like an idiot, I moved in to his apartment in New York City six weeks later.” Pausing, she looked right at me, pain in her eyes. “We were engaged for three years before I discovered he was a lying, cheating bastard. So, I left.”

  “Aw, shit.” I wanted to hold her tight until the hurt disappeared, but settled for awkward pats on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. And you’re not an idiot. Or the first amazing woman to fall for an asshole. Want me to beat him up for you?”

  She shook her head no but smiled like I hoped. Her hand covered mine. “Enough about me. How long have you been in Tacoma?”

  “I moved there six months after you left Jackson. Went to EMT school and became a firefighter. Bought a little house in University Place about five years ago.”

  “Do you live alone?”

  Her eyes slid away from mine then back. I had no idea what she was thinking. Or what I should say.

  The angle of the gondola shifted and wind buffeted our car. Almost at the top.

  “Better get ready. It’s going to be a white-out up here.”

  Lost in our own thoughts, we zipped zippers, clicked buckles, and adjusted goggles. With a double clunk, the lift slowed and the doors slid open with a hiss. Storm-whipped flakes flew inside as we exited into a sea of swirling, blowing snow.

  As I strapped into my bindings I could just make out the red jackets of three patrollers standing at the top of Emerald Valley. I caught Taya’s eye and slid down to check the status of the run.

  “Hey, Jordan.” The ’troller closest to me reached out a fist.

  “Hey, Max.” I tapped his fist with my own. “Can we drop in?” I knew a wide-open bowl with moguls on one side opened up below us, even if I couldn’t see more than three feet in front of my face.

  “Sure thing. We just got clearance.” He glanced between me and Taya, and one side of his mouth curved up. “Have fun.”

  Not sure what Sophie had told him, I ignored his pointed look. “Thanks, man.”

  I turned to Taya. “Ready?”

  “Right behind you.”

  We traversed along the top of the bowl until a stand of dark green fir trees loomed out of the whiteness. They’d give us enough contrast to see the slopes.

  I transferred my weight, and aimed my board down the hill, floating, weightless. Wave after wave of bottomless snow arced high over my head. Behind me, Taya whooped with glee and I whooped back. Fifteen turns later, I pulled up below a clump of trees and waited on my knees, looking uphill until she popped out of the glades. Her turns were smooth, strong, confident. And seriously sexy. Like always.

  She dropped onto her hip next to me, laughing and panting. Cheeks ruddy. Water droplets fell from her nose and ice crystals clustered in her braids. When she smiled, I could’ve sworn the sun broke through the clouds.

  “Pretty sweet, huh?”

  “I can’t believe I haven’t skied in five years. I told you I’m an idiot!”

  “Nah. You’re not an idiot. But you are lucky I found you and made you come out today.” I grinned, mock-punching her thigh. “Ready for more?”

/>   “I was born ready.” She pushed herself upright and clacked her poles together to knock the snow off the baskets. Shifting my weight back, I slashed through the billowing snow, Taya on my heels.

  If this wasn’t heaven, I didn’t know what was.

  ****

  As we slid off the chair at the top of our tenth run, I wasn’t sure if I could link even two more turns. My not-so-stellar fitness level was taking a toll, as evidenced by my three—count ’em three—falls on the last run. It took a good fifteen minutes to extricate myself, panting and exhausted, from the deep snow each time.

  But I vowed to keep skiing until my thighs burned so bad that if I touched them it might cause blisters. Because I never wanted to stop flying and laughing through the clouds of powder with Jordan. It reminded me of who I was, or at least who I used to be. And I needed that more than I’d realized.

  “Ready?” Jordan’s mile-wide smile warmed my soul.

  I clicked the last buckle on my boots and put my hands through my pole straps. “Ready.”

  The snow kept piling up, filling our tracks. Even though midday had come and gone, we sliced turn after turn in bottomless, untracked powder. Our shouts of glee echoed through the trees every time snow flew overhead. Somehow, as I skied, the past few years of loneliness, depression and heartache flew away, too.

  Stopping mid-run to give my screaming quads a much-needed break, I toppled over, unable to wipe the smile from my face despite the pain in my legs. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have fun. And to be around a man who looked at me like I was beautiful and strong, and smart enough to do anything. Not like Gabe.

  The last couple years of our relationship Gabe had either looked at me like an embarrassment, or avoided looking at me at all. It’d been six months since I left him, and already I couldn’t remember why I was ever attracted to him.

  On the other hand, I very much remembered why I was attracted to Jordan. All those late nights drinking and laughing in his beater, old trailer. The strong comfort of his arms around me the day my dog died. How he looked me in the eyes when I spoke, as though he hung on my every word.

  I peered downslope to where he waited for me, his broad-shouldered silhouette just visible through the falling snow.

  What would Jordan think when he found out I was a failure at everything: relationships, my novel, my career, you name it?

  Maybe he wouldn’t like me, or want me, any more than Gabe had. Not even as a friend. My stomach twisted into knots as hard and painful as the ones forming in my legs. I couldn’t bear another rejection in my life. Not right now. Not when I was barely keeping my feet under me. I also didn’t want this amazing day to end.

  All the more reason to keep my past, and my attraction to Jordan, to myself. I struggled to standing in the deep snow, took a deep breath, and plunged down the steep face.

  ****

  “You know, you could leave a little of that fresh powder for the rest of us, Monroe.” I brushed off the snow clinging to her helmet and braids from her last fall. She had to be beat. “Ready for a beer?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Just two more pitches to the bottom. You’ve got this.”

  We ripped down the slope side-by-side, arcing through the deep powder. I’d forgotten just how smart and beautiful and flat-out incredible Taya was. Even though her legs had to be cramping, and her goggles had fogged all to hell after being stuffed with snow, she didn’t complain or whine. Or even ask to stop. Instead, she charged down the slope with effortless grace—like it was our first run instead of our last. No way did I want this day to end.

  It’d been a long time since I spent quality time with another adult outside of work. As much as I loved Peyton, a man can only take so much Bob the Builder. I needed a friend, and Taya had always been a great friend. Game for anything. She’d always supported me, seen the best parts of me, even when I didn’t.

  If I made a move and she rejected me, our friendship would be toast. Not to mention my ego. I couldn’t take either of those. Plus, I had to think about Peyton. He didn’t need to get attached to someone who might not stick around. Or see me heartbroken and depressed.

  Taya’s edges hissed to a stop on the packed snow of the base area as I stepped out of my bindings. “Where to?”

  I set the tail of my board in the snow and leaned against it, focusing on the cold curve of the tip biting into my chin instead of how gorgeous she looked with her face flushed from cold air and adrenaline.

  My insides tangled. Much as I wanted to, getting her alone, somewhere quiet where we could talk was playing with fire. A crowded restaurant would be the safe choice.

  “Let’s check the Tram Car. If that’s too packed we can try Moose Antlers Saloon.” Like all of the ski areas in Washington, the Emerald Mountain base area was small. Just a small handful of restaurant/bars, two ski shops and three old, outdated hotels. I crossed my fingers that we were early enough to beat the après ski crowd.

  “Sounds great. Lead on.”

  I tucked my board under my left arm, and Taya under my right. With her lean frame pressed warm against my side, I guided her to the ski racks then into the main lodge. The sound of a hundred or so voices screaming in unison filled the stairwell.

  Shit. The football game.

  I’d forgotten about the playoffs. We hit the landing and I snagged the hostess’s eye, trying for a Hail Mary. “Hey, Caitlyn, you wouldn’t have a couple empty seats in a corner somewhere would you?”

  “Sorry, Jordan. It’s standing room only with the game on.”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  The game had started at two, and no one wanted to drive home and miss a play.

  “Shit. Sorry, Taya. I bet the Moose is packed too.”

  “No worries. I’ll take a rain check and head back to town. Beat traffic. I’ve got some work to do anyway.”

  Her words sucker-punched me. No fucking way.

  I pulled my head together before it kept going down that path. It would be better if she left now. Give me a chance to get past this crazy attraction and back in the friend zone.

  “Cool. You in A lot?” She nodded as we shouldered our boards. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  I draped an arm over her shoulder until my elbow rested on her skis. And my hand rested above her breast. As we wove through the packed plaza, I tried my best to pay attention to where we were going instead of where my hand wanted to go.

  Chapter Three

  Either I was brilliant, or the stupidest woman on earth. Because now it wasn’t just my quads and glutes on fire. Jordan’s strong arm looped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side, and my body morphed into a piece of charcoal glowing red at the center and white hot on the edges. My self-control teetered on the edge of going up in smoke too.

  I tried to ignore the way his solid muscles pressed into me. The way his fingers brushed the edge of my sternum, inches from my already-tingling nipple.

  I shivered with unwanted anticipation as I strove to regain control of my faculties. I was headed down the mountain and back to my sister’s basement. Alone. The way it should be. The way I needed it to be.

  My heart sank like a rock into my stomach. As much as I loved my sister and her family, they couldn’t fill all the empty spaces in my life. Or my bed.

  Not that I thought Jordan would. Or should. But reinventing my life was a difficult and lonely business. Being with Jordan reminded me how much I missed having a friend. How much I missed his friendship. Not to mention how much I missed a man’s touch.

  ****

  “This is me.”

  I stopped us in front of my truck, a silver, four-wheel drive with a beige cab-over camper weighing down the dually tires.

  “Nice rig.”

  “Thanks. Got her last summer. She’s great for weekends up here. And summer campouts.” Why did my fucked up brain immediately bring up images of me and Taya, camping in my truck? Good thing she was leaving or I’d never get control of these crazy thoughts
.

  “I bet. Maybe sometime—”

  “Maybe next time—”

  We laughed, and I squeezed her in closer. Tighter. Until I could feel every curve of firm muscle and soft flesh pressed against the side of my body. My cock twitched.

  Down boy. You’re not burying your bone there.

  When she pulled away I let her go, swallowed hard, and internally debated the chances of the Seahawks going to the Super Bowl.

  “Rain check, then?” Her eyebrows rose and I wondered what she’d been about to propose. Pretty damn sure it was nothing like what I’d been considering.

  “If that means you’ll come skiing with me again soon, then sure, I’ll take a rain check.” I couldn’t quit staring into her bright green eyes.

  Either I was an idiot to let her go, or the smartest guy in the world.

  ****

  My breath caught in my throat. The way Jordan looked at me, that intensity, I wanted to run as much as I wanted to press him against the side of the camper and do him right there in the still-full parking lot. That made me want to run even more, before my fantasies got completely out of control. Or got me in trouble.

  The sooner I left the better. I needed to get hold of myself, and I couldn’t do it with my body molding into his. With his fingertips creating trails of fire across my chest.

  I stepped from under his arm and angled my skis in Bessie’s direction. “I’m right over there.” An awkward silence filled the space between us. “Thanks for a great day.”

  He took a step back and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his snowboard pants. “Anytime.” He shrugged and smiled. “Talk to you soon, Monroe.”

  I tried to appear as casual and unaffected as he did. “Sounds good.”

  Before he could say another word, I beelined for my car, his stare hot as I crossed the lot. When I turned the corner at the end of the row, I heard the crunch of his footsteps walking away and sighed with relief.

  I’d been bluffing about the rain check.

  I wanted to spend time with Jordan. More than I wanted to want to spend time with him. That was the problem.