SKIING CLASSES

JAKE 

I woke up to pain.

Not the dramatic, life-flashing-before-your-eyes kind. More like the you tried to ski for twenty minutes and now your calves are filing for divorce kind. Every muscle in my legs screamed, and my spine felt like I had wrestled a pine tree in my sleep and lost.

I groaned into the pillow.

“You’re a genius” I muttered to myself, rolling over and blinking at the pale morning light pouring in through the chalet’s massive windows. “A billionaire genius. Who can't even stand up on a pair of skis.”

I stared at the ceiling for a minute, debating the pros and cons of just hiding in this overpriced cabin for the rest of the week with cocoa, books, and the world’s fastest Wi-Fi.

But then I thought about her.

Lily.

The way she’d laughed when I crashed into that snowbank like a human-shaped disaster. The gentle sarcasm. The braid falling over her shoulder as she turned back to make sure I wasn’t dead.

I groaned again but this time for a very different reason.

I wasn’t here to meet someone. I was here to lay low. Hide. Disappear for a while after the whole investor leak situation back in San Francisco. No press. No corporate nonsense. No pretending to be a shark.

And yet... my fingers were already reaching for my phone, thumbing over the message I swore I’d only read once:

“If you survive till tomorrow, I’ll be at the lodge. 10 a.m. Ask for Lily .”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

So I got up. Sore legs and all.

The ski lodge was already bustling when I arrived. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the air smelled like cinnamon and pinewood and something sweet I couldn’t name.

It felt... warm. Not in the temperature sense, but in that quiet, small-town way that made me feel like I was intruding on something close-knit and well-loved. People waved to each other. Called each other by name. A man in flannel was teaching his daughter how to put on her boots near the fireplace, her giggles echoing off the walls.

I kept my head low and my beanie lower.

The front desk had a small line, mostly tourists like me. Or rather, tourists I was pretending to be. When it was finally my turn, the woman behind the counter gave me a once-over and smiled wide.

“Well, hello there! Name?”

“Jake Ryan” I said quickly.

She squinted. “Jake Ryan... like the guy from Sixteen Candles?”

I blinked. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

She chuckled, clicking her nails against the keyboard. “My teenage self is screaming. You’re here for a ski lesson, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Private, if possible.”

“Mm-hmm.” She typed something, then tilted her head. “Any instructor in mind?”

I tried to sound casual. “There was someone I talked to yesterday... Lily?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Ah. Our Lily. One of the best on the mountain. You got lucky, Jake Ryan.”

I coughed. “Right. Luck.”

With a few more taps, she handed me a clipboard and gestured toward the couches by the fire. “Go ahead and wait there. She’ll find you.”

I took the clipboard, muttered a thanks, and headed to the fireplace, where I sat down beside a table offering complimentary hot cocoa.

This place was... different. People here didn’t check their watches every five minutes or glance at their phones between conversations. They weren’t faking smiles. It was all just... real.

And quiet.

I hadn’t realized how badly I needed quiet until now.

I don’t know how long I sat there. Ten minutes? Fifteen? The cocoa was halfway gone and I was halfway through convincing myself I should not be looking forward to this lesson so much until when I saw her.

Lily.

She was walking through the lodge like she belonged there. Because she did. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her braid was falling out slightly, a little wind-tossed and perfect in the messiest way. She was tugging off her gloves, scanning the room until her eyes landed on me.

“Jake?”

I stood so fast I spilled cocoa down the front of my coat. “Hey.”

She blinked. “You came back.”

“You gave me homework” I said, trying to act casual. “And I really hate failing assignments.”

Her laugh was warm and unguarded. “Well, I hope you studied. Today we’re tackling the bunny hill.”

“Perfect. I like bunnies.”

She walked over, looping her gloves through her belt. “Come on. Let’s get you suited up.”

We made our way to the rental counter, where Lily insisted on checking my skis herself. I stood there like a mannequin while she crouched, tightening the bindings and muttering things about heel pressure and toe alignment.

“I don’t remember instructors doing this much hands-on work in the brochure” I said, watching her closely.

“You looked like you were trying to decapitate yourself yesterday. I’m not taking chances.”

“You wound me.”

“Not if I can help it” she said, flashing me a grin over her shoulder.

God. I was doomed.

Once she stood, she handed me a pair of goggles. “These’ll help with the glare. Also, style points.”

“I’ll take anything that makes me look less like a disaster.”

“Well” she said, adjusting the strap on my helmet “you do have an air of reckless chaos. But I’m starting to think it’s part of the charm.”

I could barely breathe. “You think I’m charming?”

She smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sixteen Candles.”

We stepped out onto the snow, heading toward the beginner’s slope. I was trying to keep my steps even, to walk like a man who belonged in ski boots, not like I was wearing medieval torture devices on my feet.

She chatted as we walked , pointing out the lodge’s new renovations, the best cocoa stand on the mountain, the crazy raccoon that once broke into the ski patrol shed.

I liked listening to her. She had that kind of voice that made you feel like you’d known her for years, even if she’d only saved your life twenty-four hours ago.

Then, it happened.

A couple passed us ,young, maybe early twenties, decked out in overpriced designer gear. They looked at me once. Then again. Then whispered.

My stomach dropped.

They didn’t say my name, but I recognized the look. I’d seen it at galas. On planes. In boardrooms. The double-take. The Is that...?

Lily didn’t notice.

I turned quickly, trying to joke it off. “I think I just got recognized.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For what? That spectacular wipeout yesterday?”

“Exactly” I said, forcing a grin. “Infamous now.”

She laughed, bumping her shoulder into mine as we reached the slope. “Well, infamous or not, I’m glad you came back.”

I looked at her,sunlight on her cheeks, snowflakes caught in her lashes, that same open, effortless smile and my stomach did something it hadn’t done in a long, long time.

Something warm.

Dangerous.

And sweet.

I was starting to think maybe hiding out here wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

But as I followed her onto the slope, her ponytail swaying in front of me, one quiet thought whispered at the back of my mind.

If I’m not careful, someone’s going to recognize me. And the last thing I want... is for Lily to find out who I really am before I figure out who I am around her.