We hang up, and I scroll through the text messages Maggie and I have exchanged this past week. There are easily over a hundred. So many that I had to change her contact name in my phone from Maggie to Sparky because I was terrified she was going to text me at Tire Depot when Miles was around.
Sparky: Why can’t you tell a joke while ice fishing?
Me: Because you’re sitting beside me, and I don’t think you’re funny.
Sparky: Eye roll emoji.
Me: Fine…why can’t you tell a joke while ice fishing?
Sparky: Because it’ll crack you up! Get it?
Me: I got it, sparky.
Sparky: What do fish and women have in common?
Me: This could go so many ways, and most of the ways I have in mind are dirty.
Sparky: They both stop shaking their tail after you catch them!
Me: See? Dirty.
Sparky: That’s not dirty.
Me: It is if you’re in my head.
@Sparky: ☺
Sparky: Where do football players go shopping in the off-season?
Me: I hope it’s not Marv’s.
Sparky: The tackle shop.
Me: Oh boy, just when I thought these were getting better.
Sparky: My ex didn’t think that was funny either.
Me: In that case, I thought that joke was fucking hilarious. You are a comedy genius, and I think we should go on tour together.
All week, Maggie kept hitting me with stupid fishing jokes she found on the internet. And all week, I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. It was really fucking annoying. And adorable. And charming. And all the things I’m not supposed to be feeling for my best friend’s little sister. Any minute now, she’s going to show up, and we’re going to head to a cabin together where we’ll be all alone for over twenty-four hours.
It’s going to be fucking torture.
It’s dark outside by the time I see headlights pull into my driveway. Maggie parks her car beside my already loaded pickup packed with snowboarding gear, snacks, booze—all the main supplies you need for a weekend of snowboarding. I was able to borrow my sister’s snowboarding gear for Maggie so we won’t have to bother with a rental.
I hear Maggie dragging her suitcase up the stairs and make my way to the front door, opening it just as she lifts her hand to knock. Her dark hair is wild as it sticks out from her red stocking cap and her blue eyes are wide and frantic. “Sorry, I’m so late. I swear I think Miles and Kate had sex before they left because they disappeared into his bedroom for a much longer time than necessary to pack a few things for a weekend with her parents. I had to fake a cold because Miles wanted me to come with them, and then my mom called, convinced I’m having some sort of mental breakdown because I’m staying in Boulder for a few weeks, so I had to talk her off the ledge, and then the roads are slick from the snow, so I had to be really careful driving up your winding road, and holy cow, it’s scary driving around here in the dark, and the sandwiches I picked up for us are probably cold, but I’m lucky I got here, so please don’t expect me to look decent.”
She sucks in a huge gulp of air because I’m pretty sure that entire monologue just broke some sort of record for most words spoken in a run-on sentence.
My gaze drops down her body, taking in her snow boots, leggings, and red wool coat. “You look great,” I reply with a shrug.
And just like that, her eyes soften, and she gets a sweet, sort of shy smile on her face. “Thanks.”
She bites her lip, and I have to look away because it makes me want to kiss it. I take her suitcase out of her hand and carry it down the steps to load into the back of my pickup.
“Is this all you have?” I ask, glancing over at her car.
“Yes, my snowsuit is crammed in my suitcase.” She looks at all the supplies. “Holy cow, you packed a lot of stuff. I should pay you for some of this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply, slamming the tailgate closed.
“No really, I see snacks here. I didn’t even think to pack snacks. And is that Chardonnay? That’s my favorite! I can’t stand beer. And firewood? I should pay you for this. I should pay you for all of this actually. You’re really the one helping me out here, Sam. I’m sure snowboarding lessons aren’t cheap.”
She’s spinning out again, so I place my hands on her shoulders and stare down at her for a quiet moment. When she stops fretting, I reply slowly, “Seriously, Maggie, don’t worry about it. I don’t want your money.” I just want you, my inner voice whispers like a two-timing whore.
She looks up at me, blinking in an adorably young and innocent way. It takes all my strength not to lean in and crush my lips to hers. Why is she so kissable tonight? Was it because I felt like she was flirting with me at Tire Depot earlier this week? If I knew bouncing around with my niece was a way to get girls to look at me the way Maggie is looking at me, I would have played that card a long time ago. Or maybe it was our text messages. I’m not a big texter, normally, but with the way she continually set me up to flirt right back, I just couldn’t help myself.
Jesus hell, if Maggie and I were in a different time, in a different place, with different names…she would be under me by now, crying out my name and begging me to make her come.
But this isn’t a different time or place. We aren’t different people. This is Miles’s little sister. And I’m just here to help her out for the weekend. Nothing more.
After we finish loading the truck, we head west toward Eldora Mountain Resort. The drive is quiet as we eat our cold sandwiches and I focus on the snow-covered roads. Luckily, it’s only a thirty-minute drive from my place, and my vehicle has four-wheel drive. This fresh snow will make for some epic snowboarding powder tomorrow.
When we arrive, we have to stop at the front desk of the main resort to get the keys for the ski in, ski out chalet. After another short ride up the mountain, I pull up to the back end of a small red cedar cabin that’s a good deal off the beaten path. We hop out and make our way up to the back door that’s lined with twinkle lights, and I fumble with putting the key in the lock.
“Holy heck, it’s freezing out here!” Maggie states excitedly with a kid-in-a-candy-store smile.
“Should have worn your snowsuit there, sparky,” I jest and then push the door open while flicking on the lights. I step back to follow Maggie through the doorway and down a short hallway that leads into the kitchen. It’s small and rustic with knotty wood cabinets and a granite slab island that separates the kitchen from the living area. The living room has an oversized plaid couch with a gray furry rug resting right in front of a brick fireplace.
“I’ll get a fire going,” I state, striding over to the stack of chopped wood on the built-in shelves along the wall.
Maggie continues flipping on the lights, taking in the small but cozy cabin. She turns to head down the hallway as I light the Firestarter in the hearth. When the fire is going, I hear Maggie call out my name.
I head toward her and find Maggie standing in the middle of the bedroom at the end of the hall. Looking at me sheepishly, she states, “Only one bedroom.”
“Oh.” I reach my hand up to rub the back of my neck. “I guess I never thought to ask how big the place was. It’s no problem. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, you won’t!” Maggie replies, her eyes wide with surprise. “You’ll take the bedroom.”
“Not gonna happen.” I laugh and head back down the hall to start unloading the truck.
“Yes, it is,” Maggie chirps, following me closely through the kitchen and back out into the snowy cold. “Look at all this stuff you packed for us. You even brought me your sister’s snowboarding gear.”
“It was no big deal,” I state, grabbing some bags and heading back inside.
Maggie grabs a few and follows. “All of this is a big deal, Sam.”
I drop the bags in the kitchen and turn to head back out to the truck again, but she stands her ground in the hallway, refusing to let me pass.
“Maggie, let me through. There are still a couple of things I need to grab.”
I move to walk past her, and she presses her hands into my abs and pushes me back. “Not until you agree to take the bedroom.”