Kiss and Don't Tell(53)

“Good.” He squeezes my thigh and then rubs my skin with his thumb. “Now save me as a contact.”

“Okay. Should I save you as Pacey Lawes, or something like”—my cheeks burn up—“Hot Ass?”

His brows skyrocket to his hairline and his lips turn up. “Hot Ass, for sure.” I chuckle and then he asks, “Should I save you as Sexy Thighs, you know, since I still don’t know your last name?”

“It’s Berlin. Winnie Berlin.”

He nods. “Think I’m still going to save you as Sexy Thighs.”

“I would hope so.”





Chapter Thirteen





PACEY





Winnie clutches her seat and says, “Soooo . . . this is terrifying.”

We didn’t have to wait in line very long for a gondola ride, and because we were talking so much while waiting for our turn, I don’t think she really gave much thought to how we’d be in a little “cage” as she likes to call it, being held up by a cable above the mountains.

Leaning casually in my seat, arm draped over the back of the bench, I say, “You’re more than welcome to join me over here.”

“If I move, I think the gondola will fall off the cable.”

I chuckle and lean forward, offering her my hand. She takes it and then squeaks with alarm as I tug her to my side of the gondola. She curls against me on the bench, and her hand lands on my chest. I drape my arm over her shoulders and hold her tightly.

“I swear this isn’t a move,” she says.

“A move?” I ask.

“You know, like how you’re in the movie theater and you yawn just so you can drape your arm over your date. I’m not faking how terrified I am so I can get close to you.”

“Are you considering this a date?”

She stiffens beneath my hold and says, “Oh, no, I wasn’t saying it like that. I don’t think this is a date. I fully understand the circumstances of this day.”

Enjoying her discomfort too much, I ask, “And what are the circumstances?”

“Just two friends—”

“We’re friends?”

The wind blows and the gondola slightly sways to the side. She clutches me tighter. “I would like to think we bonded after you dropped me into the mud while we were trying to get Minnie out.”

“I didn’t drop you into the mud.”

She ignores my comment, which makes me secretly smile even harder. “But you know, two new friends going out on the town, learning about each other and buying things, sharing drinks, debating over potato skins and tacos, and then snuggling with each other because we’re both terrified of heights.”

“I never said I was terrified of heights.”

She smooths her hand over my chest. “Shh, Pacey, it’s going to be okay. This cable won’t snap, we won’t fall to our deaths. You have plenty of years left playing your ice sport.”

“Ice sport?” I laugh. “You mean hockey?”

“God, I’m so terrified, I forgot what it was called.”

Sighing, I wrap my arm completely around her and lean my cheek against the top of her head. “These are really safe. I promise we’re going to be okay, and then it’s all going to be worth it when we get to the top.”

“And how long will it take to get to the top?”

“Let’s not focus on that.”

“Okay, what do you want to focus on?” she asks. “And be quick with it, because I’m going to need a distraction.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want the caramel apple right now.”

She shakes her head.

“We’ll save it for the top.” I smooth my hand over her arm reassuringly and ask, “How long are you going to be in Banff?”

“Not really sure. I have to muster the courage to see my uncle, and then after that, I guess I’ll head home.”

“What are you going to do when you get home?”

“Figure out my life. Not sure I want to continue going to school for business. It didn’t interest me. But I don’t know what interests me. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“No. There are plenty of people in the same shoes as you,” I say. “Just because it takes you a little longer to find yourself doesn’t make you pathetic. Remember, we all have our own timelines.”

“And comparison takes the fun out of everything.”

I smile against her hair. “Exactly. But let’s see if we can dive into this a bit. What did you like about working at your mom’s bookstore?”

“I loved the children’s section. That’s where I spent most of my time. I actually started children’s programs at the store.”

“What kind of programs?” I ask as I feel her body start to ease under my touch. Not as stiff as before.

“We had a generously sized children’s book area, but it was in the far back of the bookstore, which always made me laugh, because back in the day, all the dirty novels used to be in the back. But after some older woman chastised Mom for carrying such ‘filth’, Mom decided to rearrange the shelves and brought the ‘filth’ to the front of the store. She started highlighting one of the dirty books every week and called it Filthy Friday. Bosoms were heaving all over covers, and shirtless men claimed their woman with a hand to the back of their neck. It was Mom’s favorite part of the store.”