Snow Job by Tara Wyatt (best classic books to read TXT) 📕

closer, the flash of pink took on a human form, hunkered down among the pines.

“Kayla!” he called, the wind snatching his voice away.

But she’d heard him this time, because a very faint, panicked sounding, “Help!” reached his ears. Determination to get to her fueled him, making his heart hammer in his chest, his blood rushing through him. A film of sweat clung to his skin beneath his shirt and coat. He slowed a little as he got closer to the tight grouping of pines, knowing that if he wiped out and hurt himself then they were both screwed.

“Kayla!” he called again, his eyes trained on her.

“Sebastian,” she said, her voice a little weaker than before. Shit. How long had she been out here?

He came to a stop about six feet away from her and unstrapped himself from his board, running to her, snow flying up around him. She sat huddled against the base of one of the tall pines, shivering. Her discarded board lay a few feet away. He dropped to his knees and reached for her, running his hands over her arms, her legs.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, relief churning through him that he’d found her.

“I think I twisted my ankle. I lost control and almost skidded into a tree, and there was no one around because the snow was getting heavier,” she said, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. “I crawled in here to try to get some shelter. How did you find me?” Shivers racked her as she spoke, her teeth chattering.

“I figured you’d be on one of these runs, and I took a chance. Can you stand?” He rose to his feet and helped her to hers.

“Shit!” she cried out, immediately pulling her left foot up, clutching at his shoulders for balance. “I can’t put any weight on it.” She sucked in a shuddering breath, and he could tell she was trying not to cry. If he was going to get them both to safety, he needed her to keep it together.

“Hey,” he said, tipping her chin up with his gloved hand. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

“How are we going to get back to the resort?”

He shook his head. “We’re not. But my cabin is only about half a mile that way,” he said, pointing.

She shook her head, panic and cold making her tremble. “I can’t walk that far. Not like this.”

“I’m gonna carry you. We need to get out of this storm.” He plucked his radio from his waist and spoke into it. “I found Kayla. We can’t make it back to the resort, so we’re going to take shelter in my cabin off of Snow Pass.”

“Roger. Does she need medical attention?”

“She has a twisted ankle, but nothing serious. I have supplies to tend to her injury.”

“Roger. Glad you found her. Stay warm.”

“You’re going to carry me half a mile through a snowstorm?” Her eyes were wide and he could tell she was trying not to panic.

He met her eyes, and she relaxed the tiniest bit. “You’re fucking right I am. And you’re probably going to hate it.”

“Whaaaaaa—” Her question turned into a shriek as he hoisted her over his shoulders in a very undignified fireman’s carry. He wrapped his right arm around her legs, holding her right arm with his left. His knee ached and he wished he hadn’t pulled off all of his kin tape earlier.

“Comfy?” he asked as they emerged from the trees. Wind buffeted them and he angled himself so that they wouldn’t be walking into it head on.

“I’m okay. What about the boards?” she asked, lifting her head a little.

“They’re just boards. We need to get to shelter.”

The wind picked up, pushing against him, stealing his breath. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trudging his way through the storm. By the time his cabin was in sight, maybe fifteen minutes later, sweat coated his skin and his knee was screaming in protest. His muscles were weak with exertion and relief by the time he mounted the steps to his cabin. As carefully as he could, he bent down and lowered Kayla to her feet. She clung to his arm for support as he unlocked the door and then led her inside.

The door had barely closed before she turned to him, her eyes soft and her fingers curling around his arm. “Thank you. I…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t found me.” She shivered and he fought back the urge to wrap his arms around her.

“You’re welcome.” Now that they were alone, and she was safe, he didn’t know what to say to her. As the adrenaline started to dissipate, the sting of her earlier rejection returned. “Take your gear off and I’ll look at that ankle,” he finally said, his voice a little gruff.

She nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Do you have any painkillers? I mean, I figure you’ve probably got some good shit…” She trailed off at the look on his face.

He swallowed, his throat tight, prickly heat streaking through him. “I don’t know what you think you know or knew about me, but I’m not a pill popping drug addict. I have Advil. You can have some when you’re done judging me.”

She swallowed visibly and nodded. “Right. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s fine. Sit.” He helped her into an armchair near the fireplace and left her to take her gear off while he took off his coat and boots and then built a fire. The place had a propane furnace, but it didn’t work to keep the chill out the way an actual fire did.

“No, it’s not fine. You’re right. I shouldn’t be judging you.” She took off her helmet, gloves, and scarf, setting them on the floor by the chair.

He smirked, poking at the logs he’d just lit. “Little late for that.”

She nodded and peeled herself out of her jacket. “I’m sorry.”

He just nodded, staring into the growing