Still, I expected the details of our night together to have traveled all around the resort by now. I know what guys are like—especially at his age. But the occasional secret smile he throws in my direction is the only hint of our earlier intimacy. I’m impressed by his discretion. Curtis has apparently kept his mouth shut, too.

I head down to the tow lift. Looks like Heather’s gotten her way, because Dale’s strapping on his backpack. Poor Dale. But that’s the kind of problem you run into by getting involved with someone out here. I don’t want to worry about anything this winter except my snowboarding. Eat, sleep, snowboard. That’s all I intend to do for the next four months.

Snowflakes blow sideways at me as I wait for the tow. Some of them find their way down my neck. I squirm and tighten the Velcro on my collar.

As the T-bar yanks me upward, Brent throws himself on beside me, wearing his usual dimpled grin despite today’s poor conditions.

We’ve ridden up the pipe tow together a few times since our night together and kept the conversation to snowboarding. There’s none of the awkwardness there sometimes is after a one-night thing and he’s been nothing but warm and friendly.

His pipe glove curls over mine on the T-bar. “Want to stay over at my place tonight?”

I look at him in surprise. I thought our night on the glacier was a one-off. But actually I do want to stay over. My body aches from how hard I’ve pushed it and I want to feel his warm hands and mouth on me again.

I hope he doesn’t think this is something it’s not.

—

Two hours later, I ring the bell of the little chalet Brent pointed out to me on our way down. And Saskia opens the door.

She stands on the doorstep, barefoot in ultra-skinny jeans, as though debating whether to let me in. In a tight white sweater, she looks delicate, almost frail, and I marvel afresh at the illusion. There’s nothing frail about her riding—or her personality.

Curtis appears behind her. “Good timing. I’m about to dish up.”

I remove my snow-covered Nikes and follow them inside.

The others are all here, milling between the tiny kitchen and living room. Heather and Dale; Odette and Julien. This is not at all what I expected. Brent and Julien crouch over a laptop. Brent shoots me an apologetic smile and I can see he didn’t expect this either, but he’s going with it, so I’ll do the same.