15. Awkward

15

Awkward

Zane

After some food and one more lap around the market, I walk Ivy back to her hotel, drawing in a gasp when I see the time on my watch. “How is it already nine p.m.?”

“I know.” She chuckles as we stop in front of the hotel. “I just saw that too. Time flies.”

“It does.”

Our eyes lock, and all I want right now is to find out how sweet her lips would taste. Probably as sweet as that second hot cocoa. My mouth waters at the thought. This is the second time I’ve thought of kissing her in the last few hours, and I’m really starting to worry about my mental health.

Her gaze roves from my eyes to my lips, then back to my eyes. I lean forward, but she takes a step back. “Thanks for walking me,” she says, pressing her lips in a thin line. “I’ll see you tomorrow for my lesson.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Right. Of course. Good night.”

I cuss at myself all the way home. How stupid am I to make that kind of move? She just broke up with her fiancé, and not by choice. Of course she doesn’t want to kiss me. She’s just looking for a friend. Heck, I’m just looking for a friend.

I don’t realize I’m home until Daisy’s voice startles me.

“Hey. You’re home late. At least by your standards, grandpa.”

She’s lounging on the couch, watching TV.

“ You’re up late,” I counter, sitting at the end of the couch. “Haven’t seen you awake past ten since you got here.”

She stretches her arms above her head, yawning. “I know. I was just thinking about Todd and everything, and I lost track of time. ”

I fix my eyes on her. “What happened, Daisy? Why is he not here? Did you guys break up?” I ask, concern taking over. I was never a fan of the guy, but I don’t want my sister to suffer, and the thought of her living alone in Chicago makes me uneasy.

“I told you,” she says, picking at the fabric of the blanket that’s covering her. “He had to work.”

I give her a pointed look borrowed from Belinda.

She sighs, jerking the cover off. “Fine. I’m leaving him.”

My eyes bulge in their sockets. “What?”

“I didn’t want to say anything because my decision wasn’t final, but it is now. He’s been treating me like crap for a while. I just have to get out of this.”

The situation is way worse than I thought. “What did he do?” I growl. In other words, what will I be breaking his face for? “I’ll hop on the next flight to Chicago and go kick his ass.”

“Calm down.” She rolls her eyes, though the corners of her lips pull into a small smile. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. It wouldn’t do any good. It’d just add fuel to the fire.”

“What fire, Daisy?” I slide down to properly sit on the couch. When she leans her head against my shoulders, I wrap my arm around her. “What’s going on? What did he do? ”

“It’s not just one thing. It’s how he is. One day, he makes me feel like the most precious, amazing girl on earth. And the next, I’m this worthless, good-for-nothing country girl.” She sighs. “I didn’t even notice what was happening for a while, but then it got more and more intense. Lucy told me I was making a mistake moving in with him, and she was right. Now it’s just a mess.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask, rubbing her arm. “Do you even have a place to live?”

“Well, I’m staying at my big brother’s house for the time being,” she jokes, poking me in the chest. “But I’m moving in with Lucy when I go back. I’ll be fine.”

“Or you could stay?”

She sighs again. “What about my job? Plus, I love Chicago. I want to go back.”

“Okay. Well, I’m glad you got out of that situation. Let me know if you change your mind on that butt-kicking. I’d be on a plane the next day.”

“So, that’s what it’d take to get you to come visit me, huh?”

I admit, the idea of hopping on a plane and flying to a huge city is one of the most unappealing things on the planet for me. But for my little sister, of course I would .

“Oh yeah. The prospect of teaching that jerk a lesson is enough fuel for me. Haven’t you heard? I’m a teacher now.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. I really just want to put this all behind me.”

I nod in understanding, squeezing her arm. “Well, now I get why you brought so much crap with you,” I joke.

She chuckles in my arms. “Yeah. To be honest, I thought that’d give me away the second I arrived.”

“I’m not too good at reading signals,” I say, recalling that I didn’t understand why Ivy was alone on her honeymoon. Weirdly, that feels like weeks ago when really, it’s only been a few days.

“What about you and Sofia?” she asks.

My body tenses at the mention of her name.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She places her hand on my forearm softly.

I clear my throat. I wish I could tell her, but the words stay stuck in my throat. “There’s not a lot to say. I’m better off alone. You know me.”

“Yeah . . . What about that girl?” she asks, cocking her head. “Ivy. What’s going on with her?”

My throat constricts, and I look away. “Nothing.”

She raises an eyebrow. “If you want to lie to me, Zane, you’ll have to do better than that. ”

“Nothing happened,” I say with a shrug. “She’s here on vacation. Actually, her honeymoon.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “Wait. What?”

“Ivy’s fiancé deserted her the night before the wedding, and she decided to come on her own. That’s the other reason why nothing could ever happen.”

“Whoa. Yeah, I can imagine.”

I stare into the fireplace. “I guess she and I are friends.”

“Look at us. We’re the kind of siblings who talk about their feelings after all,” Daisy says with a faint smile.

I chuckle, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Huh. Who knew?”

Ivy

The lump in my throat grows bigger with every step toward the meeting point for my ski lesson. There definitely was a vibe yesterday, and I thought Zane was going to kiss me. Even crazier, I wanted him to kiss me. So badly. But at the last second, I chickened out. Kissing Zane—or anyone—is the last thing I should be doing right now. My life is complicated enough as it is .

When I arrive at the base of the slope, however, every ounce of awkwardness in me vanishes. Zane is acting perfectly normal, and we both have a great time during my ski lesson. I learn to do turns using poles. It’s a lot harder than I thought, meaning most of the time, I’m rolling down the hill instead of skiing.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Zane says as we’re taking our equipment off.

I shoot him a look of mock indignation. “Are you kidding? I was more down than up today.”

He grimaces. “Well, there’s definitely room for improvement, but you’re doing good. Learning to ski takes time and practice.”

“You’re well on your way to becoming a very good teacher, you know? Your siblings would be proud.”

He shakes his head, chuckling.

“So, are you busy now?” I ask before I can stop myself. I swore that I wouldn’t ask him to come to yet another couple’s activity, yet here I am, unable to shut up.

“Not really. I mean, I have work, but with Daisy helping out, I have a little more time on my hands.”

“Do you like to cook?”

“I like to eat,” he says with a chuckle. “I cook a little, I guess. But let me put it this way—I cook like you ski. ”

That draws a laugh out of me. “You must set the kitchen on fire then. But actually, that’s perfect.”

He frowns, though his eyes are shining with a suppressed smile. “Really?”

“I have a cooking class in a little bit,” I say, wringing my hands. Why am I suddenly so nervous? I’ve been shameless about asking him to step in for every other activity. What’s one more? Plus, it won’t be nearly as romantic as our evening out yesterday. “A chef will teach us a few recipes, we’ll cook, and then we’ll eat what we made.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “There’s a cooking class in Winter Heights?”

“Sure there is. It’s in my hotel’s restaurant.”

“Well, I’ll come along. I’m not saying I’ll be much of a cook, but why not? It’s never too late to learn something new.”

My heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with Zane. He’s the only reason this holiday hasn’t been a complete disaster, ending every night with me, a bottle of champagne, and a carton of ice cream.

We walk back to my hotel and chat about his cooking skills, which are apparently far from those of my sister’s fiancé. I stop by my room to freshen up and change, Zane waiting for me in the lobby. Apparently, he didn’t even break a sweat this morning, so he doesn’t need to change. Shocker.

There are two other couples in the waiting room when we arrive. Marius and Jo—a recently retired couple from LA—and Jude and Lina, who look to be about our age, from the UK.

“What brings you here today?” Jo asks us with a warm smile. “My husband and I are celebrating our thirtieth wedding anniversary, and we thought it was time we start learning how to cook,” she jokes, and we all laugh. “We’ve been too busy working all our lives and raising our children, so now we’re taking some time for ourselves.”

“Your cooking is super, honey,” her husband says, kissing her temple. “But, yes. Taking our retirement has been the best decision of our lives.”

“Well, my fiancé is quite the baker,” Lina announces with an American accent, gazing fondly at Jude. “I try my best to keep up with him, but baking is tough. Cooking seems more freestyle, and I think that might be more my jam.”

“Always selling yourself short,” Jude says, his deep British accent warming the room. Lina just shakes her head and leans against him.

Zane clears his throat, and I look between him and the rest of the group. I guess it’s our turn. I stammer, “We, um. I don’t have a lot of cooking experience, though I’m still alive after all my attempts, so that’s something.” A weird, high-pitched laugh bubbles out of me.

“And I am terrible at cooking. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” Zane blurts, making everyone laugh.

“How long have you two been together?” Jo asks, her eyes trailing between Jude and Lina, then Zane and me. “You both make beautiful couples.”

“We’ve been together for three years,” Jude says with a smile. “And loving every second of it.”

Four pairs of eyes fall on me, and my breathing accelerates. Why can’t people mind their own business? And why isn’t the chef here so we can cut this conversation short?

I take a small intake of breath, my cheeks burning. “We—I—”

“A couple of years,” Zane says, placing an arm around my shoulders. I stare at him, and he just winks. “It’s our honeymoon, actually.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Jo says.

My erratic breathing evens out, soothed by Zane’s arm around me, his fresh mountain scent, and the fact that he just blatantly lied to these people so I wouldn’t have to put my pathetic self on display. Again. I throw him a grateful look, and he just squeezes my shoulders, sending a flock of butterflies fluttering in my stomach.