The Snow Fell on Her Scarf Instead

Hallie's POV

Our company's year-end retreat was a ski trip to Silver Peak, and it took until day three for Cole, the guy I'd been in love with for years, to finally ski a run with me.

We were only halfway down a green run when he pulled up at the bottom of a pitch and shook his head, clearly annoyed.

"Your balance is awful. I've shown you a hundred times and you're still doing the same thing."

One of our coworkers laughed. "Seriously? Cole had Addison for one afternoon and she's already doing blues."

Addison was the assistant he'd hired a year ago.

Cole didn't look at me again. He flagged down a stranger who had just skied to the bottom.

"Hey man, can you take her down a couple runs for me? I'll pay you after."

He was skiing off toward Addison before he'd even finished talking.

Addison hunched her shoulders and said she was cold. Cole pulled off his scarf with a smile and looped it around her neck a few times.

Looking at that scarf, I thought about the first time I ever stood on a ski slope.

My legs were shaking so hard I could barely stay up.

He stood right behind me, hands hovering by my arms in case I slipped, and we inched our way down together.

He kept saying the same thing the whole time. "Don't worry, I've got you. You're not gonna fall."

For all these years, I'd thought I was stuck on the green runs because I was a slow learner.

Now I finally saw it. He hadn't been behind me for a long time.

So I didn't need to keep looking back for him anymore.

"Hey, we're at the top! Get off or you're riding it back down."

I snapped out of it and pushed off the chairlift with my poles, nearly crashing into the railing.

My phone screen was still lit. It was an offer email from a sports media company in San Diego, and I'd just hit accept.

One chairlift ride, three minutes, and I'd moved the rest of my life somewhere it almost never snows.

The guy who'd called out to me was the stranger Cole had flagged down.

He'd ridden up on the chair behind mine. Now he pushed his goggles up onto his helmet and grinned at me.

I felt a little embarrassed.

"Sorry, he didn't really mean that. You don't have to do this. Go ski your own runs."

"No way, I already said I would." He shrugged. "Fair warning, though, I'm not that great myself. If you don't pick it up, that's on me."

That made me laugh, and I ended up not saying no.

I'd put on my brand-new ski outfit that morning, and I wasn't about to spend the whole afternoon standing around at the top. Besides, I actually loved skiing.

Three days into the retreat, Cole had taken Addison from the greens to the blues and helped her up more times than anyone could count. He hadn't skied a single run with me.

The stranger took things slow.

He didn't push me to bomb down the hill.

He started me on a gentle slope to find my balance, and over and over he reminded me to bend my knees more and look farther ahead.

I fell twice. Both times he skied over, pulled me up, and said, "That was actually pretty good. Go again."

He was patient the whole way through, like it didn't matter how many times I fell.

As the sun started going down, I skied a blue run from top to bottom without stopping once.

At the bottom, I turned around and stared up at the run, out of breath and speechless.

I'd been skiing for twenty years, and this was the first time I'd made it down a whole blue run on my own.

I unzipped my pocket.

"Seriously, let me pay you. You're a better teacher than half the instructors out there. So much for 'not that great.'"

He waved me off and pulled his goggles back down. "I don't even work here. Consider it on the house. Have fun."

Then he turned and cut into the trees, and a second later he was gone.

When I got back to the base, Cole and Addison were taking pictures outside the lodge while a few coworkers stood around teasing them.

I walked over and said I was heading back to the hotel.

Addison spoke up first. "Cole says night skiing's never crowded, so he's taking me back out on the blues. Hallie, you should come!"

"No thanks. I'm kind of tired."

That was when Cole finally turned and looked me up and down.

"What, you're mad again? Let me guess, that guy couldn't teach you either."

He smirked. "Figures. Nobody's gonna have the patience to babysit you on the greens. I'm the only one who puts up with it."

My chest felt tight.

Back when he used to teach me, if I fell even once, he'd spend forever cheering me up.

After Addison started, all that patience slowly went to her, and all I got was criticism.

"He did teach me," I said. "I just skied an entire blue run without stopping. Today's the most fun I've had skiing in years."

Cole shoved his goggles up onto his helmet, his jaw clenched.

"So this is all because I didn't ski with you today? Some random guy off the slopes isn't gonna teach you anything."

He tipped his head toward Addison. "Forget her. Let's go up."

But Addison grabbed his arm and gave me a hurt look.

"Hallie, don't be like that. Cole told me he taught you everything you know. That's kind of a mean thing to say. He was only trying to help."

I almost laughed.

His idea of helping was handing me off to a stranger and skiing off to help someone else up.

Once she said that, Cole's face softened, and he gave her helmet a little pat.

"Don't let her get to you. You're too nice, you know that?"

The two of them headed for the lift together, and everyone else drifted off too.

I stood alone outside the lodge and watched them get on the same chair, the lift carrying them slowly up into the fog at the top.

The wind picked up on the mountain and threw snow at me. It slid down my collar, and the cold made me shiver.