I took a deep breath and dared a glance at him. He was ripping open a bag of beef jerky as he pulled around the gas pumps. “I just talked to Andrea. They’re stuck just outside of Frederick due to the snow. They’re going to be late. Maybe we—”

“We’ll be fine.”

And those were pretty much the last words we exchanged. The rest of the ride was silent. Even though I still wanted to unbuckle my seatbelt and hit him a few times in his stomach, I didn’t want to start winter break off like this. We still had to drive back home to our families.

It seemed like forever before we saw the sign for Snowshoe just beyond Marlinton. The steady flurries had died off by then, sparking hope that we were just going to be clipped by the monster storm and nothing else.

Snowshoe Mountain really was beautiful. Like a winter wonderland with the fresh snow and the main lodge rising several floors, majestically placed between the tall, snowcapped elms and slopes. Down on the narrow streets between the condos and businesses, the lampposts lining the streets and the many chalets nestled together always reminded me of the North Pole. With the heavy clouds and the approaching dusk, the shimmering white lights circling the posts and draped over the smaller firs trees were already glowing.

We passed the Starbucks just as their Christmas lights blinked on and a group of people spilled out of their doors, laughing and carrying steaming cups of coffee.

Man, I missed my cappuccino.

As we crested the hill, I could see the ski lifts off in the distance. Those things scared the crap out me. Feet dangling into thin air and you’re just supposed to jump? Yeah, not my idea of a fun time. Curling up by a fire and reading a good book? More up my alley.

I dared a quick peek at Kyler. The tension had eased out of his jaw and his eyes were lighter, already filling with a gleam of excitement. He loved Shay’s Revenge, the nastiest slope Snowshoe had to offer. Just looking at the fifteen hundred vertical drop made me want to vomit.

Quinn Lodge was right next to the slopes and one of the larger privately-owned homes. Two stories high, with multiple bedrooms and a pimped-out basement with a big screen, pool table, and various other boy toys. It would be ours for the week.

Kyler hit the brakes and hopped out, keying in the security code to the garage door. With a loud rattle, it slid up. Out of habit, I unbuckled my seatbelt and wiggled into the driver’s seat. Kyler disappeared into the garage and a second later, light flooded the space.