Working out here for the rest of the season was more than I could have hoped for. I’d only been here a week, but waking up within spitting distance of the ski hill and being one of the first ones out there every morning was a whole new kind of thrill.

I’d been snowboarding and teaching lessons for years, but until now, I’d always commuted from Denver, sticking to the ski resorts closer to the city. The traffic was absolutely brutal. I honestly didn’t know why it had taken me years to even consider the possibility of staying out in the mountains for the season. It suited me.

“Oliver!”

A few of the guys who worked the chair lifts waved to me as they headed in the direction of town. Most of them stayed in dormitory-style accommodations right between the ski hill and Main Street. There was a time in my life when I would have enjoyed those cramped quarters and not missing out on any of the socializing. But now I found myself grateful for the solitude and space of my studio above Bev’s garage.

“Hey!” I called back, waving at them.

“We’re headed out tonight. There’s more of a nightlife scene fifteen minutes down the highway. Want to join?” one of them asked. I couldn’t for the life of me remember any of their names. But in my defense, they’d been working here since the beginning of the season and I’d just arrived.

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

They kept on walking, boards in hand and playfully shoving each other, clearly pumped at the thought of a more raucous night out. They were only a few years younger than me, but the jump from early twenties to late twenties felt more substantial than I’d expected.

At times, I felt like I’d always be young at heart. But spending time with a group of twenty-one-year-olds? That made me feel ancient. I’d come here for a fresh start—or maybe to keep chasing a carefree lifestyle. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. A year ago, the idea of hitting the bars with guys like that—squeezing into places pretending to be clubs—might have sounded fun. But now? I was exhausted by the idea.

The invitation Giles had thrown me sounded a hell of a lot more my speed these days. He might be older than me, but at least we had more common ground.

The lodge loomed ahead. It was one of the only hotels that was nestled right at the base of the mountain. It reminded me of a Swiss chalet with its overhanging roof and natural wood siding. From what I understood, it had been in Giles’s family for decades. Sounded like a picturesque childhood, if you asked me. Although, it wasn’t like my childhood was tough to hold a candle to.

My phone vibrated in the chest pocket of my jacket. I tugged at the zipper and pulled it out, only to immediately groan when my mom’s contact flashed across the screen.