Page 41 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
“I’m all right,” I lie, trying to will Jasper to look up for even a millisecond.
“Mason said he had a nice time last night.”
I blush and Jasper, well, he doesn’t look up, but his shoulders are suddenly tense.
“We’re all going skiing after this,” she says. “You’re all coming too, right?”
Katie leans over me. “I’m not sure Max is up to extreme sports today—”
“We’ll be there,” I say, cutting Katie off.
Clayton snickers and raises a judgey brow, Jasper eyes me sideways, and I force a grin in his direction.
“Great! We can all get the shuttle over together! Meet us out front in an hour?”
“Perfect.”
Jasper doesn’t hang around a second longer, instead he plows toward the farthest table from us. Mia waves as she and Clayton move to join him.
“Are you sure you’re up for skiing? I thought maybe we could watchHome Aloneor make popcorn ribbons…”
“Oh I’m ready for skiing, just you wait.”
Okay, apparently everyone here is a professional skier. While I’m standing in my little ski suit, wobbling about like a nervous flamingo, everyone is shooting past me down the slopes.
“Come on Max,” Katie calls, shuffling to the ski lift.
It’s insanely sunny, and the glare off the miles and miles of white is intense. Luckily, my hangover is wearing off. The coffee and pastries have done their job. I do my best to catch up to Katie and hop a lift.
After breakfast we quickly changed then headed to the front of the packhouse, where a sleek shuttle bus was waiting. Mia was excited to see us but sat up front chatting with Clayton for most of the ride. Jasper sat in the back row with Olivia, both of them hidden behind sunglasses, earphones in, listening to music. Todd and Simon played video games for once not fighting for Katie’s attention.
Mason, on the other hand, sat with us and regaled us with fun facts about the mountains as we drove.
“That’s Mistlethorpe,” Mason said as the town I noticed this morning came into view.
Believe me when I say it is hella cute—like a Scandinavian dream, all pointed roofs, houses made of pine, and cobbled sidewalks. I must have missed the part where we traveled internationally.
When we arrived at the ski slopes, we were kitted out with suits, skis, and goggles by a handsome guy in a knitted sweater, with the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. I thought Elite Pack wolves were attractive, but this mountain air really works wonders. By the time I was done fidgeting with my bootstraps and figuring out how to walk with two planks on my feet, Jasper and Clayton had already sped off, clearly practiced on skis; Mason and Mia waved and told us to catch up when we’d found our snow legs. And Katie told Todd and Simon to go ahead as well.
For a while, Katie and I messed around on the practice slopes, figuring out how to stay upright.
But now we’re ready to take on a real hill.
As we make our way up the mountainside, I stare down at the skiers whooshing past and wonder where Jasper has gotten to. The paths are pretty curvy, dotted with rocks and pines heavy with snowfall. It all seems a little dangerous, and Jasper’s words are ringing in my ears. Sure he’s told me to stay away from him before, but this time there was something else in his voice, a tightness that’s new. Still, whatever he’s got going on, I’m allowed to be out here skiing, and if we bump into each other, that’s not my fault—there’s only so much mountain to go around.
“Let’s go,” Katie says the second we’re off the lift.
She glides to the starting marker of the trail and turns gracefully, ready for the descent. I’ve grown up with her my entire life, and I know for a fact she has never gone skiing either. So why does she have a knack for it and I feel like I’m wearing clown shoes?
“Come on, Max, it’s easy!” she calls again, turning and gliding gracefully over the first little section of slope.
With some degree of difficulty I line myself up at the starting marker and am about to push off when Clayton’s voice reverberates across the hillside.
“You sure you got enough practice?” he says, and I turn to find him and Jasper heading my way.
Jasper is wearing an extremely well-fitting, all-black ski suit that makes him look like James Bond. He’s the one who told me to leave him alone and yet here he is, everywhere I am.They sidle up next to me and Clayton slips on his goggles, smirking in my direction.
“Certain you’re ready for this?”
