I lied.
When I said, we could be together, just for one night. It was a lie then and it’s a lie now. I’ll never be able to stop wanting this.
“I need to go back,” I mumble after some time, the first trickles of morning light seeping in through a crack in the curtains.
His arms squeeze and then he lets go with a sigh.
I dress in silence, pulling my shorts and top on whilst he watches from the bed, a frown pulling at his brows. I creep to the door, cracking it to check if the coast is clear. I glance back over my shoulder, finding his eyes on me and then I slip out, creeping back down the hall I came down what feels like ages ago and back into my room.
I need to shower, to dress, continue like nothing happened. Showering however, will remove the lingering scent of him from my skin, it’ll wash away the way his hands roamed over every inch of my body, cleanse the skin his lips touched, his teeth nipped.
So sue me, I want to keep it a little longer. I climb back into my bed, the sheets cold, the bed linen clean and untainted by our bodies and lay for a while, replaying it all in my head.
_
After I reluctantly shower, spending more time than necessary under the hot spray, I meet everyone in the kitchen. Including Fletcher who also looks freshly showered, his messy hair wet and falling over his forehead. I’ve opted for a turtle neck jumper today, my only choice because of the red marks on my neck from his mouth. My cheeks burn at the memory and my stomach clenches, arousal once more rushing me. As if sensing where my thoughts have just gone Fletcher’s eyes darken and his eyes drop to where I’m pressing my denim clad thighs together.
If I’m not mistaken a tiny smirk tilts his lips and then he acts as if nothing happened, digging into the crispy bacon piled on his plate.
“Well good morning, sleeping beauty,” Decker jokes, patting the chair next to him.
Pushing away my errant thoughts, I join him at the breakfast table, reaching for a plate in the middle and stocking it with scrambled egg and toast.
Decker throws an arm over my shoulders and jerks me into his side, “Sleep well?”
I flick my eyes to Fletcher and nod, “Very.”
A grin spreads across his face and my heart sputters in my chest. He’s so handsome when he smiles, those dimples he introduced that first day we met making an appearance.
When I look to Colt his eyes are narrowed on my face as if he’s searching for something, He then flicks his gaze to Fletcher and something settles there.
A realization.
Oh no.
He places his elbows on the table and links his fingers, resting his chin there. One half of his mouth tilts up knowingly, “So, Peyton, how’s your dating life?”
I choke on my orange juice, “What?”
“Well last I checked you were seeing that guy, what was his name?” He clicks his fingers, “Ryan! You tutored him, right?”
My eyes widen and automatically I look to Fletch, unable to stop myself. The muscles in his jaw clench and unclench, “It was one date. Months ago.”
“Oh that’s a shame, anyone else caught your eye?”
Why is he doing this!?
“No!”
“What are you doing?” Fletcher growls.
“Just checking in with our girl.” Colt shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye.
“Wow,” I stuff a piece of bacon into my mouth, “This is good, who cooked?”
“Me!” Decker proudly admits, “Good huh?”
“Really good,” I shove another piece in, “so good.”
Decker chuckles at my enthusiasm. I swallow it all down with some juice, “So what’s the plan today? Skiing? Shopping?”
Decker wrinkles his nose at the idea of shopping, “Up for hitting the slopes.”
“Yeah, I’m game,” Colt settles back in his chair, taking the change in subject but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last of it. He was fishing for something.
Were we that obvious?
Something under the table hits my foot and I grin as a socked foot slides up my calf, a subtle caress in our ongoing game of footsies. Fletcher gives me a little wink, one he hides well from the guys and then gets up from the table, putting his plate in the dishwasher. “I’m up for skiing,” he tells them.
I agree and finish off my breakfast as the guys get ready. I very much doubt the years not skiing have improved my ability much. I sucked. Bad.
I wasn’t a clumsy girl, never had been but the combination of my feet being stuck to those two long planks and the very slippery snow beneath them never made a good pair.
One thing I know for sure, it gets cold, especially when you’re not actually skiing which will be what I’m doing so I head to my room and layer up, putting a pair of thermal leggings under my trousers, a thick jumper over a thermal fleece and then my big jacket, tugging a thick hat over my hair and ears. Frostbite is real, and I enjoy having all my fingers and toes.
I’m waddling, only a little when I come back out, much to the amusement of the guys. I scowl in their direction, taking in their light apparel.
“You’ll freeze to death,” I huff, pulling on my boots.
Decker scoffs as Colt shakes his head. Fletcher is watching me beneath hooded lids, his lip between his teeth. He can’t find this sexy, so I have no idea why he’s looking at me like that.
We make the five minute drive to Buttermilk ski area. It’s busy, tourists flocking to the area for their winter breaks, I could guarantee the resorts in the area would be rammed. I watch the guys preparing their gear, pulling their things from the bed of the truck. The air seems colder today and a shiver wracks my body, even beneath the layers of clothes.
“You know,” Fletcher says casually, shifting a backpack onto his shoulders, “all those layers, they’re going to make you sweat, even when you don’t realize it and then those under layers you have on are going to get wet.”
My brows pull down, “I’m not going to ski.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’ll still sweat and sweat will turn cold or you’ll get wet from melting snow and all that cotton under your clothes is going to retain that water. You’ll be colder in those clothes than you would in what we’re wearing.”
Another shiver has my limbs shaking, “There’s a café up the top,” I say with a touch of smugness, I remember coming here as kids and the café serves the best cocoa, “Whilst you three haul yourself off a mountain, I’m going to sip my drink and read a book. The view is pretty.”
Fletcher smirks, “No, you’re going to the school and learning how to ski.”
“I don’t have the gear.”
A grin and then a bag is being tossed to me, “Now you do.”
I stare down at the familiar red bag and pout. My old skiing gear that I thought they would have thrown out by now. How did he even get this in the car!?
Decker squeezes my shoulder and then makes his way towards the ski lift, Colt following.
“I doubt it even fits,” I pout.
“Oh it’ll fit,” Fletcher steps up next to me and quickly looks to check if the guys are watching, then he curls a finger under my chin and turns me up to face him, “We’re here to have fun. I’ll stay and help teach you and then we can do a small run first, yeah?”
I nod against his fingers, “Good.”
He doesn’t kiss me. Doesn’t do anything other than brush his thumb down the sharp angle of my jaw and then drops his hand, heading in the direction the guys just disappeared to.
With a sigh, I follow, heaving my gear over my shoulder.
_
“I can’t do this.” I screech, my legs resembling that of jelly. “It’s going to kill me!”
The instructor, a guy I met half an hour ago named Ben chuckles at my outburst, “I’m going to be right here.” He tells me softly.
He’s probably a little older than me, a boyishly handsome face and muscular physique. I’d sent Fletcher off to ski with the guys, there was no need for him to see this.
“Come
on,” Ben coaxes, “Just a little.”
The hill before me is barely anything, enough for me to feel but not enough for me to go fast or do any damage to myself.
Suddenly an arm comes around my waist and I stiffen, the hand holding me just above my hip. “Come on, beautiful, you got this.”
I cringe at how close Ben is to my face, his breath brushing against my cheek.
“I have a boyfriend,” I lie.
“Where is he?” Ben asks.
Warning bells ring inside my head and I look down to the rented ski poles in my hands, I mean I could just hit him with this.
“On the slopes, he’ll be back soon,” Whilst Fletcher wasn’t my boyfriend, he would be back soon, along with Decker and Colt and I doubted they’d appreciate how handsy my ski instructor was being.
Those fingers dig in, “I’m just showing a pretty girl how to ski.”
“Okay, well you can do that without the touching,” I snap.
“Don’t want you falling,” he drawls.
“I’ll be fine,” I hiss, trying to snatch myself away. My ski slips out from under me and I land in a heap on the floor, the snow crunching under my weight.
Ben leans in to help me up, “Don’t touch me!” I shrill.
“What’s going on here?” Fletcher’s deep boom vibrates through my body and I look up into his stormy eyes. He’s not looking at me though, he’s staring daggers at Ben.
“The boyfriend?” Ben swallows.
“The boyfriend,” Fletcher confirms.
Twenty-six
“The boyfriend,” I agree. It should feel wrong to refer to myself as her man but it doesn’t and my eyes flick down to where she’s still sat in the snow. I saw it all. The arm snaking around her waist, the lean in to whisper in her ear and I saw her reaction, the grimace, the twist of her lips and then the jerking away from him which resulted in her fall.
I’m actually impressed I haven’t laid into the guy. As much as my fists twitch to do just that.
I can be civilized about this.
“Are you okay?” I ask Peyton.
She struggles to get up, the instructor leans down again to offer help but I step up, slapping him away as I place both hands under her armpits and haul her up, pulling her against me to steady her.
“I think the lesson is over, don’t you?” I growl.
“Yep,” the guy rubs the back of his neck, “In all fairness mate, I thought she was lying about the whole boyfriend thing. You know how it is.”
My brow cocks, “So that means you get to touch her?”
“Uh, no, sorry about that.”
“You will be,” my voice is deadly calm, even to me, but the warning is not hidden, “I’m going to give you about a minute to get the fuck out of my face before I lose my shit.”
“Fletch,” Peyton murmurs, placing a hand on my chest to ease me. To my surprise, it does. The anger that flowed through my veins seeing another man touch her just dissipated, poof, gone, settled by the fact that she is mine.
One night? Fuck that.
I’m taking her.
Fuck it if I go to hell for it.
It’s a betrayal to my brother, of course it is, but right now I want to be selfish. I want to indulge in everything she has to give for as long as she wants to give it.
The darkness in me, it recedes when she is around, the pain and the heartache as if it didn’t exist at all.
The instructor scurries off, leaving me following him with my eyes until he’s a safe distance away.
“Hey,” Peyton cups my face in her gloved hands, “hey, I’m okay. We’re good.”
“I should have punched him.”
She laughs, “No Fletch, you shouldn’t have. We’re good.”
“He touched you.”
“Yes but I had it under control.”
“Did you?”
“Well, I would have eventually,” she smiles.
My nostrils flare.
“Why don’t you teach me?”
“To ski?”
“Mm,” she grins up at me, her nose red from the cold, “then we won’t risk bodily harm.”
I chuckle, “Not here.”
I help her out of her ski’s and then we walk a little further away, away from prying eyes, from Colt and Decker until we’re hidden mostly from view.
I slide up behind her after she’s reattached the skis, “I don’t remember you being bad at skiing,” I muse.
“That’s because you were always whizzing down with your dad whilst I sort of half fell, half skied my way down.”
I chuckle, trying to remember the time. I never managed to look past how cute she looked in her skiing gear, how she stood out against the stark white snow, a beacon for my eyes. I remember the way her cheeks flushed a pretty pink in the cold and the way her hands curled around a mug of cocoa after the day of being out in the cold. Fuck, she was beautiful. Time had only made her more so, a maturity I hadn’t noticed before in her eyes, in the way she held herself. It only made me want her more.
I slide up behind her, an unconventional and completely wrong way to teach someone to ski but then what did I know? I was no ski instructor but like hell would I allow yet another person to touch her.
“We’re gonna start slow,” I murmur to her ear, soaking in the warmth radiating from her skin, soaking in the fragrant aroma of her shampoo. Is it possible to become addicted to a scent alone? If so, call me hooked.
“Mm,” she mumbles, leaning into me, pressing her back to my chest.
“Real slow, baby,” the sentiment slips from my mouth, same as it did last night but it sounds so fucking right, so fucking good.
“Fletch,” there’s a slight huskiness to her tone, a whimper that has my restraint pulling on its last legs. I have to remind myself it’s far too cold for me to rip her out of her clothes, too many people around for me to devour her the way I want to.
My hands fall to her hips, and gently I press her forward, feeling us both moving steadily down the slope.
“Keep your balance, bend the knee and centre your gravity,” I advise, guiding her as we gently make our way down.
A little laugh escapes her throat, “Hey look! I’m staying up right!”
I laugh, “I’m going to let go.”
Forgetting the poles in her hands, she grabs my wrists, holding my hands to her hips, “No! Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go!”
Her words burrow under my skin and I have a feeling that there are so many more meanings behind her exclamation.
Could I let her go?
I supposed it depended on the situation. I may be able to let go if she wanted me to, would I be able to off my own accord?
Never.
I was starting to realize that she was my salvation. She always had been.
Throughout middle school, high school, she was the anchor that kept me grounded, the one person, throughout everything that never looked at me differently.
My best friends, Colt and Decker, they had always been there but we disagreed, on a lot of things, my parents we fought over my decisions, my plans for the future, and even Tyler, the amount of times we bickered and fought I’d lost count. All of this was of course normal, but with Peyton, she simply listened, she advised, she never judged, she held my hand and smiled and nodded at all the right times.
She was that person.
The one that just understood you. Got you. Knew what you needed at every given moment.
I’d pushed her away for so long I had forgotten what she meant to me. I always knew she was special, that was something I wasn’t able to forget but I didn’t grasp just how far she had gotten under my skin.
She was the light to my darkness, the sunshine to my storm, everything I could ever need and I knew, I knew I wasn’t allowed to keep her.
My fingers flex on her hips, biting into her flesh, feeling the soft muscle yield under my touch. She melts into me and if that doesn’t make me feel like I’m on top of the world. She needs me. Me.
&n
bsp; “You’re doing good,” I praise, “keep going.”
I gently release my fingers from their claiming grip, steadily removing my hands until she’s taking the hill by herself, my body staying close in case she needs me.
“Weave baby,” I tell her, “That’s right, watch for trees and rocks, you got this.”
A glee filled laugh hangs between us as she begins to pick up speed, her body angling down for velocity, her speed increasing as the slope becomes steeper.
“Slow up,” I tell her, bending my own body to keep up, “Don’t take it too quickly.”
“I’m doing it!”
“Peyton!”
She’s going too fast. Angling myself, I speed up, closing the gap between us as the trees around us become denser, thicker.
There was a reason this particular section of the mountain wasn’t used for runs.
“Peyton!” I yell again, watching her barely avoid a large pine in her path. She dodges in a move I would find impressive if it weren’t for the sheer panic coursing through my veins.
“How do I stop!?”
Shit.
The wind roars in my ears, my voice becoming lost as we both speed down the slope. I wasn’t going to be able to tell her. I needed to stop her.
Bracing myself, I forced myself faster, catching up with her and just when I’m slightly in front, I snap my body to the left.
She slams into me, both our bodies toppling over. My skis come loose, as do hers, burying somewhere in the snow and we tumble, our bodies rolling through the snow.
I reach out, finding something, anything I can make purchase on to slow our acceleration.
My first instinct is to protect the girl in my arms. Hold her. Don’t lose her. Protect her at all costs.
I steel one arm around her, locking my muscles, my joints until pain rushes through my body at the tension that comes from it. I tuck her into me, using my own body as a shield as the other arm grasps wildly for anything that can slow us, stop us.
The trees close in around us, becoming so dense it’ll only be a matter of seconds before we both slam into one.
Finally, finally, I’m able to get a good grip on a ridge that juts out from the snow, my fingers bending painfully at the force of both our bodies stopping.
Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Page 13