Rebound (Boomerang #2)(60)

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Pippa rises from the bunk and insists on a group hug. “Come on, lovelies,” she says. “One for the road.”

After I see off the first team—my roommates plus Paolo, I find out that Adam’s out taking advantage of one last run on the slopes. I haven’t gotten to ski at all, and I’m dying to do it, though I know they’re going to close down any second.

I zip into my ski suit and clamp on my boots. I need to get out into the open, to have one last moment with the bracing mountain air, the cottony powdered snow. I need to clear my head and just fire like a rocket down the mountain, leave thoughts and worries behind me. And I need to see Adam.

I say goodbye to Rhett, Cookie, and Philippe before I leave.

“You owe me a major debrief when you get home,” my best friend tells me. He waves his hand in front of my face, like he’s trying to air-polish me. “Whatever’s got you looking so glowy is definitely a topic of conversation.”

“Definitely,” I say and give him a long hug. “I love you.”

His eyes widen in surprise, which makes me realize I don’t say that often enough. Something I really need to correct.

“Love you too, girl,” he says. “Be careful out there.” He grins and nods in the direction of Adam’s suite. “And in there.”

“Haha. Please. We’ll be a few hours after you.”

“If you say so.”

The resort has almost completely emptied, and I’m the only one on the ski lift. The attendant gives me an apologetic smile. “I doubt you’ll get in more than an hour before we shut it all down,” he says. But I’ll take just one run if it’s all I can get.

As I crest the top of the mountain, the air is bitterly cold, cutting through my layers of clothes like a knife. It feels bracing and welcome after the drowsy warmth of the lodge.

The ground is powdery and soft as I begin my run, and I take to it, letting myself make wide arcs down the mountain. So many people I know prefer groomed, hard-packed snow, but I love the feeling of sinking in, of challenging my body to keep my skis moving, to position myself just right so the snow doesn’t grab me and take me down. It doesn’t take long until my thigh muscles burn like crazy, but I love that too—that feeling of having worked for something.

I charge on, looping between pine trees, over shallow moguls. Visibility is a little spotty, with a low freezing mist drifting across my path, and a pale sun almost hidden behind gray clouds. The wind whips the tree branches into a frenzy, dumping clumps of snow down on me as I fly along.

Up ahead, another skier charges along the path in front of me. A guy, from the size of him, slicing through the powder like he owns it. His style is impeccable, and I can tell he takes to it like I do—he’s all in, making the mountain his own.

Adam, I realize, and feel a huge grin spread over my face.

He’s beautiful, absolutely natural. The way his body moves, sliding almost parallel to the snow. The way he thrusts himself forward, the power of his movements. It’s incredible.

“Adam!” I call, and my voice disappears in the wind. I dig my poles in and push harder, trying to get close enough for him to hear me.

I call his name again, and this time, he looks back and starts to slow. I smile, and everything in me lifts. He sees me.

Adam executes an elegant hockey stop, sending out a shallow spray of snow. Then he takes off his goggles, waves at me with a gloved hand. He looks so beautiful standing there, tan skin against the snow. I can see his smile from here, inviting, and so warm. He’s all I see as I push in to cover the twenty or so yards between us.

Which is why I completely miss the tree stump.





Chapter 34



Adam


Ali’s skis catch on something and I watch her catapult off the snow, then she’s twisting sideways in the air. She fights to keep her balance as she lands hard, but she’s going too fast and her skis are crossed. I know she’s going to tumble before she actually does, then she’s sliding and skidding over the snow, her skis popping off, her poles rolling away.

I unsnap my boots and sprint toward her. I’m by her side before she’s come to a full stop.

“Oh . . . wow,” she says, lying back and lifting her mask. Snow covers her jacket and part of her face, but she’s laughing. “That was embarrassing.”

I can’t laugh with her. I don’t like the way she came down.

“Hell of a wipeout, Quick. Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” It’s only now that she winces and reaches down to her leg. “My right ankle. I think I twisted it.”

I kneel by her boot. “Did you feel a snap?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Her eyes narrow and she smiles. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look worried.”

The wind is starting to howl around us. Ali and I are the only two people dumb enough to still be out here. She’s hurt and we’re about to get caught in a blizzard. So, worried? Yes. But panicked? Hell no.

“Just assessing the situation here, Ali. Let me help you sit up.” That small movement makes her gasp and grip my arms. “Easy, easy. You, okay?”

“Yes,” she nods, but I can tell she’s trying to be brave. Alison’s starting to shake so I take off my coat and cover her, tucking the edges around her to preserve warmth. Then I pull off my gloves and get my phone from the inside zipper of my shell. “Give me a minute to work my magic.”