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Chapter 6

Author: Crown_S_H
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-01 18:00:35

Sierra's POV

“Fuck myself,” I cussed inwardly.

What a way to tell him I had snooped around to find out about him. Something I knew I should not have done. I shut my eyes, biting my lips. I heard him chuckle beside me, already seated. “It seems someone has been researching about me,” he said.

Quickly, I snapped my eyes open and turned to him. “I apologize. I should not have,” I said.

My best bet would have been to lie, but I knew that could easily be found to be a lie, eventually. “It's okay. I don't mind, really. You can research about me all you like, but I have a better way for you to find out more about me rather than researching,” he said.

Our eyes locked, and instantly I forgot how to breathe. Those blue eyes were mesmerizing up close. The dark shades of his lashes only eliminated the beauty of his eyes. Taking a closer look at him only made me feel more inferior. Arthur seemed perfect. Too perfect.

How could a man have such beautiful looks? No wonder he has so many beautiful ex-girlfriends. Not just because of his profession, but his looks, too. Any girl would die for it. “How?” I asked, before my brain could register it.

I didn't need to know about him. Why should I? The side of his lips were crooked with a faint smile. “You can just ask me. I'll be honest,” he said, and the way he looked at me made my heart flutter.

I quickly looked away before I lost myself. Arthur was out of my league. “You won't be honest,” I said.

“Test me,” he said, overly confident.

The look in his eyes tempted me to believe his words, but I knew who he was. A guy this handsome knew he was and made sure he used it to get any girl he wanted. It was plastered all over the sites I visited today. Arthur, the play boy. Yet, even with that, my heart was acting out.

“Alright, I'll tell you about me. My full name is my Killian Arthur Floyd. I go by Arthur,” he said.

“Why choose that? I'm not questioning your decision or anything, it's just people usually go for their first name or rather a nickname from their first name,” I said.

He smiled. “My grandfather had that name. As a tribute to him, I use it. Plus, people say I really look like him,” he said.

I nodded, but said nothing. The gazes of the people around were yet to get away from us and their whispers were not so subtle. “Anything else you want to know?” he asked, making me take my eyes from the villagers.

I had one. It was stupid, but I could not stop thinking about it. Did he find me attractive? It was a question that clearly showed my insecurities, but I wanted to know if he did. His ex-girlfriends were beautiful, elegant, and sexy.

They could command a room, yet here I was, trying to seem small, so the villagers would stop looking in our direction and, most especially, me. It did not take a genius to guess what they were talking about. Their village heartthrob was talking to a girl that did not fit his class.

I shook my head, dropping my gaze. “No,” I said, almost in a whisper.

I cannot ask him. I would not want a repeat of what had happened before. “It's okay. Whenever you do, just ask me. I will not hesitate to give you an answer,” he said.

I raised my head with a sigh. “You really draw attention, don't you?” I said, eyes on the onlookers.

He shrugged. “It's normal when you live in a small village. Everyone talks and looks without minding if they are caught or not,” he said, not once looking at them.

Since he took a seat at my side, his eyes were glued to me. And the look in his eyes was giving my brain ideas I'd rather not have.

“So why did you choose to come to the village this time for Christmas? I haven't seen you in years,” he says, stirring the conversation to me.

“I wish for a small and simple holiday. Nothing crazy. The city doesn't have that,” I replied.

California was huge, and they knew how to throw a good Christmas party. Every road, every house soaked into the Christmas spirit. It was infectious, but I never truly enjoyed it there. Me coming here could also be a way to run away from the feelings I could not get rid of ever since my separation.

“Does this simple holiday have me in it?” he said, and I looked at him again, and he smiled with a nod. “Too much? Noted” he said.

“So why did you come over here?” he asked.

“I needed a calm environment. Watch people ski with their families with smiles on their faces,” I replied.

It was fun to watch without having people drawing attention towards me, but now that wasn't the case. I was slowly regretting coming over here. Maybe laying in my room and thinking about a certain biker was not so bad as being stared down by ladies who think I was taking their chances.

“Why don't you ski instead? It's more relaxing… in a way,” he said, making me chuckle.

He was right about that. “You have a beautiful smile” his words instantly made me self-conscious.

“I rather watch. Besides, I don't know how to ski,” I said.

Skiing wasn't one of my qualities. Despite this resort being in the village I grew up in, I never joined in. Just watched. Why? I cannot really pinpoint it.

“I can teach you. I'm really good,” he winked.

“A biker and a skier. Isn't that a lot?” I teased.

He shrugged. “Could be, but it gives me an opportunity to teach a very beautiful lady how to,” he said.

My cheeks flushed red at his comment. “What do you say?” he said, giving me his hand.

I should not say yes, but I found myself doing that being led away from the eyes of the people. We made a pit stop at the stall to get our gears before he led me to a reserved area. I paused at the gate.

“Are we meant to go through? It's a reserved area,” I said, even though it was boldly written on a sign for him to see that too.

“Who do you think it's for, sweetheart?” he said with a wink.

He placed his finger on the machine at the side, and the gate opened. I should not be so surprised. He was a professional biker with his pay running in billions. Obviously, he would have a reserved area in the ski resort.

He stopped when we were a good distance away from the gate. “I noticed you were uncomfortable with the people staring. This is a good place to practice. No one could stare for long,” he said.

So he did this because of me? I felt butterflies in my stomach but could only smile at him. “Let me help you with your boots. Sit,” he said, and I did so.

He knelt in front of me, sliding my feet gently into the boots. My eyes remained on him as he did so. Once done, he smiled and did his before helping me up. He turned around and held me by my waist. “It is easy if you don't overthink it. You…”

His words drowned at the back of my head, as all I could register was his hand keeping me still by my waist. “Got it?” his voice snapped me out my head and I nodded even though I heard nothing.

He pushed me a little, and I moved down the slope slowly. He moved to my side, his hands slowly sliding off my waist. “You are doing it,” he encouraged with a smile.

I nodded, matching his smile. He grabbed my hand, and that spark resurfaced, making me miss my step, and before I knew it, I was tumbling through the snow.

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