Page 66 of Love and Other Chances
“I wonder if that was intentional on the city’s part,” I muse. “That’s a bummer.”
“I’m not giving up that easily. Let’s park here and hike our way up,” Brooks says, pulling to the side of the road. “This means we’ll have the whole hill to ourselves!”
He opens the trunk to get the sleds out, and we begin hiking up the side of the street. Brooks holds my gloved hand in one of his while pulling the sled ropes with the other. By the time we make it to the church parking lot, we’re barely breathing—a combination of the physical exertion and bouts of uncontrollable laughter.
It’s early and cold, so we’re the first and only people here. Our dedication is rewarded when we reach the back of the church and take in the view of the undisturbed snow. Pine trees are laden with coats of white, snow banks adding dimension to the monochrome blanket. The sun filters through a thin layer of clouds, the resulting sparkle giving the illusion that everything is dancing.
“Oh, this is gorgeous,” I whisper, watching the mist from my breath blend into the magic before evaporating.
“Mmmhmm,” Brooks responds, and I glance over to find him watching me.
“I almost feel bad disturbing it. The snow looks so peaceful,” I say.
Brooks pulls out his phone and takes several photos of the view, including one artistic angle of me looking out over the hill. After a couple of selfies, he puts the phone away and hands me a sled. “It’s officially been documented. Now, it’s time to tear it up!”
I grin and take the sled, plopping down next to him. “Last one to the bottom buys lunch!” I yell, and we launch ourselves simultaneously.
The cold air flies through my hair, blowing off my hood and rushing around my face as I soar down the slope. I hear Brooks’ laugh mix with my scream as we sail toward the bottom of the hill, but he abruptly slows behind me. When I reach the bottom, I look back and see marks from where he dug his hands into the snow to slow himself down.
“Hey! You reverse cheated!” I accuse.
“Like I was going to let you buy lunch,” Brooks responds. But his smile quickly transforms into a smirk. “But now that that’s settled, you’re going down, Sneaks.”
We spend the next hour climbing up the hill, flying down on our sleds, and climbing back up again. Half the time we’re coming up with ridiculous races or challenges, and half the time we’re laughing and relishing the adrenaline rush.
A handful of other people have arrived and joined in the sledding extravaganza by the time 10:00 rolls around. At the bottom of the hill, I lay down on my sled, arms spread wide. “That’s it. I’m done for. I’ll never climb stairs again.” Giant puffs of mist appear and disappear above me as I huff out deep breaths. I close my eyes against the bright sun until a shadow falls over me. Squinting one eye open, I see Brooks standing over me, grinning.
He holds his hands out to pull me up. “All right, if you’re going to wimp out, we’ll have to move on to the next round of snow day fun.”
Instead of taking his hands, I grab a handful of snow and playfully throw it in his face. “I’m not a wimp!” I exclaim. Suddenly, I realize my very vulnerable position of lying on the ground. I scramble to stand, but not before Brooks drops a giant armful of snow on me.
“How dare you?!” I shriek, but any real admonition is negated by my laughter. I’m scooping up handfuls of snow as I yell, “I thought you were a gentleman, Brooks Murphy.”
“You thought wrong!” he yells back, right before a snowball hits me in the shoulder, disintegrating on impact and spraying snow across my face.
A second wind of energy floods through me as we send snow flying back and forth, heckling each other with zero true malice. Oursnowball fight ends when Brooks suddenly pulls me out of the way seconds before a guy on a sled sails through where I had been standing. I’m clutched against Brooks’ chest, shielded in his protective arms.
“Sorry about that!” the sledder calls out from a few yards away, waving a hand in our direction.
“No problem!” I call back, breathless from the adrenaline of the close sled collision and current chest collision.
Brooks stares down at me, eyes intense. “You okay?” he asks, and I nod. I’m frozen in his embrace, in his gaze. His eyes drop to my lips, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s thinking about kissing me. Because I’m thinking about kissing him. And Brooks and I are quite often thinking the exact same thoughts.
Laughter from a nearby group of sledders reminds us of our surroundings, though, and we slowly break apart. “Time to go?” Brooks asks, voice thick.
“Yep!” I say, grabbing my sled and taking the hand Brooks offers.
We’re back to laughing by the time we reach the car. Now that I’ve stopped moving, the coldness in my bones seeps out, making me shiver. Brooks cranks up the heat and turns to me. “Are you ready to get out of the snow? We can totally skip phase two and go change before lunch instead.”
“Absolutely not,” I state firmly. “I need phase two of snow fun. Let’s go!”
His grin lets me know he’s delighted that I pushed to continue. He reaches in the back seat and grabs two travel mugs and a thermos. “Hopefully the hot chocolate is still warm. The thermos claims to keep liquids hot for ten hours, so if it’s not, I’m sending a strongly-worded letter to the manufacturer.”
I chuckle as I hold out the mugs for him to pour the hot chocolate into. It’s still steaming, so no complaints required. We sit in the car for a few minutes, thawing out in the warmth of the heater and the hot liquid.
“Will your students be extra crazy tomorrow after a snow day?” I ask.
Brooks snorts. “Oh, they’ll be maniacs, for sure. But tomorrow’s chaos will be well worth today’s pleasure.”
