“Ask me my favorite movie,” I said.

Fifteen minutes later, and one long argument about which genre was better, action or romance, Oliver pulled off the highway and into a half-full parking lot at the base of the mountain.

“What the hell is this?” I demanded. “You are not taking me snowboarding again.”

Oliver tipped back his head, laughing. “Wow, you don’t trust me at all.”

“You said it yourself—you don’t give up when it comes to dragging people on risky adventures.”

He got out of the car and then rounded to my side, opening my door and holding out his hand to help me down from the SUV.

My “thank you” got caught in my throat as soon as my hand touched his. Sparks. Everywhere.

I snatched it away and dug into my coat pockets for the gloves Mattie said were there. I slipped them on, but I could still feel the ghost of Oliver’s touch. His eyes glimmered as if he’d felt something, too, but he closed the door and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he said, moving around to the back of his car and opening the trunk. He rummaged around for a moment before producing…something. They were flat with a blue rim all the way around their long, narrow shape.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Oliver’s smile fell. “You’ve never seen a snowshoe before?”

“Wasn’t a big activity growing up in Florida,” I deadpanned.

He thrust the strange-looking device at me, and I took it.

“We’re going on a sunrise hike to breakfast.” His voice was filled with pride.

The snowshoes dangled in my hands as I assessed how they were supposed to attach to my feet. “I like the second part of that statement,” I said.

Oliver chuckled and tugged at my beanie. “The first part will be fun too. And very flat.”

I turned to look at the trail entrance. It was wide, and even had a thin layer of fresh snow on it. “I do appreciate flatness.”

Flatness my ass.

We’d been at this for thirty minutes now with no end in sight. This so-called “easy trail” was ever-so-slightly uphill. That, mixed with my out-of-shapeness and the thin mountain air, meant I was moving at a snail’s pace, huffing and puffing the entire time.

Even though Oliver and I were the first car in the small parking lot when we’d arrived, three groups had passed us due to my glacial pace.

To Oliver’s credit, even though he wasn’t the least bit out of breath, he hung back with me without complaint. He’d only made one snide remark ten minutes ago about hoping the breakfast would still be hot when we arrived. He’d made the comment while we were walking up a small slope, and I didn’t have the lung capacity to berate him for it.

“I thought these were supposed to make walking in the snow easier,” I said, sucking in a breath of the cold air. It was only thirty degrees outside, but I was already roasting. As soon as the sun crested over the mountains and I started feeling the full strain of the hike, I had to shed my thick down coat and tie it around my waist.