After breaking up with my long-term boyfriend, I decided to forego our annual spring break trip to Mexico, instead picking a location as far away from sandy beaches as I could possibly get: the mountains of Colorado. My best friend made me promise to have a little fun, and there’s nothing like a one-night stand to heal the sting of a broken heart. I had no idea there would be so much more to the gorgeous mystery man I met in the lobby of the lodge where I was staying. When a storm hit, things between us got hot enough to melt snow…
Snowed In is book two of the Quickies Series: short, sexy stories you can read in one sitting!
“So tell me, what’s it like living life as a one-percenter?” Mark asked. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I would probably have missed the hint of sarcasm in his voice, but years of best friendship had given me the ability to read him like a book, even when he was hundreds of miles away.
“I’m in the cheapest room at this resort, probably twenty feet from the kitchen or something. I’m, like, a forty-percenter, tops.”
“Skye, you took off and went to a ski resort for spring break, that’s-”
“Not the whole week,” I said, interrupting him. “It’s just for a couple of days.”
“A couple of days when you could be in Mexico with your friends, getting a tan instead of frostbite.”
“I like frostbite,” I said defiantly, lying through my teeth.
“You still could’ve come.” His voice was quieter then, like the way he would’ve spoken to a wounded animal. Maybe I needed that kind of voice a few months ago, but I didn’t need it now.
“I couldn’t have, you know that,” I replied, sounding as exhausted of the subject as I felt.
“Jordan’s not even around that much, he’s off…” Mark had the decency to stop that thought right in its tracks.
“It’s okay,” I replied with a smile. It really was okay. It didn’t hurt knowing that Jordan was off doing whatever with whomever. I was proud to say that was one part of our breakup that I had dealt with rather well. “It’s just…spring break in Mexico was our thing, you know? And I wanted a new thing, my own thing.”
“You could’ve found your own thing a little closer to home.”
“Mark, Miami’s like a sauna, don’t you miss seeing snow?”
“There are a lot of things I miss, but snow isn’t and will never be one of them,” he replied, laughing. “Isn’t there a blizzard going on right now?”
I walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy silk curtains. My room overlooked a service entrance, so my view was kind of blocked, but even from here I could see that the snow was falling pretty steadily. It wasn’t any heaver than it had been when I first arrived, though. And my plane had landed on time, and I didn’t have any trouble finding a cab to bring me to the lodge, so it couldn’t be that bad, could it? Then again, all kinds of heavy snow was probably pretty normal in the mountains of Colorado. I didn’t really know how to tell the difference between them.
“It’s snowing a little.”
“It’ll be snowing more later,” Mark said.
“Did you take some meteorology classes that I don’t know about?”
“You know me; I put the zip code of your resort into the weather app on my phone. I check up on you from time to time.”
“Awww,” I sighed. That really was sweet, and so typical Mark. It was one of the reasons we had been friends for so long. “I know you don’t approve of me being here, but you wouldn’t believe this place.” I switched my phone from my right hand to my left as I plopped down on the bed. It looked like it would be cloud soft, but I didn’t think there were words in the English language to fully describe the softness. Amazing? Heavenly? Not even close to how perfect that bed was. “I think these sheets are, like, a bajillion thread count.”
“A bajillion, huh?” Mark sounded completely unimpressed, and I was sure that was the disappointment talking since I wasn’t in Mexico with him and our friends.
“Definitely a bajillion.”
Mark let out a long-suffering sigh. “Tell me again how you managed to afford this trip?”
“Last-minute deal on some travel website. It was part of a package.” That, of course, was a complete lie. I didn’t want to tell him that I came close to maxing out my credit card on what was essentially an impulse purchase. With Jordan still tagging along on what was once our annual spring break trip to Mexico, I couldn’t bring myself to go this year, and with no family to speak of, the thought of sitting alone in my apartment while everyone I knew was off having fun was too much to bear.
It had been years since I’d seen the mountains, and I felt like pampering myself. I’d had a rough year, and I could use some relaxation. So, I went on the internet and found the nicest place I could kind of, maybe, stretch to afford. A few days later, there I was at Church Mountain Lodge.
“You’re gonna have to show me that website,” Mark said, not even trying to hide the edge of suspicion in his voice.
“I will.” I absolutely would not.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” The sound got muffled for a moment, and I could hear Mark talking to someone. There was splashing and laughing in the background, and I couldn’t deny that I felt a little pull of regret in my heart because I wasn’t there with everyone. But I knew I did the right thing in taking this trip by myself . “I’m going to tell you something Skye,” Mark said. “And you’re not going to like it.”
“That’s never stopped you before.” I leaned back against one of the fluffiest pillows ever made, preparing myself for whatever it was he was about to tell me.
“Since you’ve insisted on breaking off from the group and going it alone this year, I need you to do something for me.”
“You need to get laid.”
His answer took me completely by surprise, and my first instinct was to just…laugh.
“And here I am, thinking I’m here to relax and get my mind off my last semester of school.”
“Can you think of a better way to relax than letting someone fuck your brains out?”
“Wow,” was basically the only word my brain conjured up in reply.
“If you were here with us, I’d make sure it happened. You know I’m a Grade-A wingman.”
“That you are,” I told him. His Grade-A wingman-ing was what brought Jordan and me together. “So, just find a random guy is what you’re saying.”
“No,” he said, his voice a little short. “Not a random guy, a hot guy. One who can help you get your past out of your system.”
“You can say his name, you know. You did earlier.”
“Jordan,” Mark replied reluctantly. “Someone to help you get Jordan out of your system.”
I wanted to tell him that Jordan was out of my system, but I got the feeling that particular rebuttal would fall on deaf ears. Mark wasn’t going to believe I was over Jordan until he was ready to. I tried to remind myself that he was just trying to be a good friend. He was looking out for me and the well-being of my heart.
“So in order to find this guy to fuck my brains out, who’s going to help me get Jordan out of my system…”
“Am I supposed to go and hit on some ski instructor?” I was with Jordan for almost three years; I was so out of practice that I didn’t even know what to do or where to begin.
Mark laughed at me. “Just go down to the bar and be yourself. And don’t settle for a ski instructor. You’re at a five-star resort, Skye. Find some prep in the lobby and go to town. Like…don’t actually go to town, you know, just-”
“I know what you mean,” I told him. “But I’m in the cheapest room in the hotel, Mark. A prep in the lobby probably wouldn’t go for a girl like me. Especially since the fanciest thing I packed was a pair of jeans and a fake cashmere sweater.”
“Seriously, I can send you pics. I mean, it’s a nice fake cashmere sweater, but it’s still very much fake.”
“No, I meant bullshit that a prep wouldn’t go for you.”
I knew better than to argue with him, so I went for a different angle. “What if I wind up with some criminal?”
“At a resort like that? At most you’ll land someone who’s committed securities fraud.”
I had to laugh at that, because he was probably right. “Good point.”
“And it’s not like you’re going to marry the guy. Just have a good time and don’t think about it too much, okay?”
I sighed and nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay.”
“Promise me you’ll let yourself have a good time and you won’t sit there in your room the whole trip staring at the side of a mountain.”
Deciding not to tell him that I’d actually be staring at a service entrance, I replied, “I promise.”
“Good. Now go put on your fancy jeans and fake cashmere sweater and make me proud. Oh, and make sure you wear your hair down.”
What was it with guys wanting women to wear their hair down? “I will.”
“And keep me updated,” he said quickly, trying to catch me before I ended the call.
“I’m hanging up now,” I replied, laughing.
* * * * *
One thing I will readily admit is that whenever Mark made me promise him something, I had a difficult time saying no. That was why I was standing in my hotel room’s bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I put on my fake cashmere sweater and jeans like he asked me to, and I had my hair up in velcro rollers, trying like hell to tame my natural curls. My makeup was minimal: just a little eyeshadow, mascara, and gloss.
After I took out the rollers and got my hair looking presentable, I gave myself a once-over, and I could admit that I looked good. Even though I could’ve lost about ten pounds, I still filled out the sweater nicely. I had that casual-slash-stylish look that a preppy guy who may or may not have been guilty of securities fraud would go for. So, I slid my phone into my pocket alongside my hotel key, and then made my way to the main lobby.
I promised Mark I would, and I always kept my promises.