“Shit, I didn’t know he was that good,” I hissed, looking on with awe as Oliver executed yet another trick.

When he made it to the bottom, he stopped even closer to the crowd than Giles had, spraying them with snow in the process. Instead of being annoyed, everyone cheered even louder.

He took off his board and lifted it in the air, pumping his arms a few times.

Mattie and I screamed in support as he sauntered over to us.

“Nice one, Ollie. You killed that,” Giles said, holding out his fist for Oliver to bump.

“Seriously,” I added. “I had no idea you could do that.”

“You thought my skills were limited to what you saw those two hours we spent on the bunny hill together?” he teased, setting his board down on the snow and pulling me into his side. I loved that about him. So quick to always tether himself to me whenever we were in each other’s vicinity. It made me feel wanted in ways I’d never felt before. More than just physically or sexually. Wanted in every way.

“No. I just didn’t know you could do all that.” I gestured to the course, where a skier was now taking a turn hitting the obstacles. “You really undersold your skills.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his tussled hair. “I didn’t undersell anything. You’re just not easily impressed.”

“False. I was very easily impressed just now.”

He smirked. “That’s because the tricks I did weren’t easy at all.”

I shrugged and pretended to be blasé. “I mean, they were okay. Not as good as Giles but⁠—”

A squeal escaped me as Oliver tickled my sides.

“You done talking shit?” he teased, but I couldn’t even respond due to being breathless from laughter.

“You could have gone pro if you wanted to,” Giles chimed in.

“I don’t have the commitment,” Oliver joked.

My smile faded a little at his words. Mattie clocked it immediately and tilted her head. We shared a look, but I brushed it off and returned my attention to Oliver.

It didn’t matter if he couldn’t commit to anything. I didn’t need him to. This was only temporary and I was absolutely and completely fine with that.

“I can’t,” I insisted, shaking my head at a very excited-looking Oliver.

“You have to.” He pulled on my hand and forced me to take hold of the end of the ski.

“This is going to go all over my face,” I insisted, looking down at the shot glass glued to an old ski.

“It’s tradition,” Oliver said.

“Is it?” I looked at Mattie skeptically, but she was already holding on to the middle of the ski and shrugging her shoulders in defeat.

“I mean, people do them all the time,” she admitted.

“Have you?”

Giles chuckled. “Your sister has lived here almost three years now and has never done a shotski.”

“Leave it to Oliver to convince her,” I mumbled, begrudgingly taking the ski.