Free Crave by Violet Vaughn

put my glove over his hand. “It’s true. I was so selfish that night. You deserve so much better.”
    “I forgave you a long time ago.” He touches the tip of my nose with his finger.
    “I haven’t.”
    “Hey, now, this is getting heavy. C’mon. Where’s my ski buddy?”
    He’s forgiven me. Pushing the shame out of my head, I smile. “Bumps?”
    He looks down at my chest with a wicked grin. “Yes.”
    I slap his arm. “Jason, you’re awful!”
    He winks at me. “That’s not what I hear. Word is, I’m pretty good.”
    I shake my head. “You’re too much.” But I smile too.
    At the top of the trail we study the lines to figure out the best way down. Shouts announce a ski class of young boys. Shiny braces and awkward postures, I guess they’re in middle school. They stop at the top of our trail and I gulp. Blaine. Oh no. Oh, please, no.
    He sees me. “Casey.”
    “Hi.” Damn it. For a big mountain, it sure seems small today.
    He leans over his poles and glances back at his class. “Hey guys, you should watch this girl. She’s good.”
    A high voice sings out, “Is she your girlfriend?”
    “She sure is.” He looks over at me with a smile.
    Crap.
    “Are you going to kiss her?” A boy in a red jacket snickers.
    Blaine looks amused. “I don’t know. Should I?”
    Oh, dear God, no. I shoot Blaine a pleading look and he lowers his eyebrows. I know he wonders what’s wrong. I want to die right here and now. He slides over, leans in, and kisses me.
    I hear a boy’s voice. “Oh, gross.”
    I hear you, little guy. Now is not the time for a little PDA. My body tenses and my heart beats loudly in my ears. I have to get out of here. I take off and slam through the bumps. The snow punishes my body with each turn. My brain tells my legs to turn, but they can’t respond fast enough. My screaming muscles barely hang on because of the speed.
    I know what’s coming when I barely finish a turn before the next bump is under my feet. I jam a ski straight into the next mogul and my body stops; the force sends me flying head over heels. Both feet eject out of the skis, and I land hard on my back. The cold snow on my face tamps down my anger. I get up and slap at my clothes to get the snow off.
    Boys’ laughter carries down. That doesn’t bother me. Everyone falls and I’m sure it was epic. What does bother me is when Blaine and Jason both ski down to retrieve my equipment and bring it to me.
    Blaine’s face is inches from mine as he hands me a ski. “You know you fell because you were too far forward, right?”
    I glare at him and step back. Between gritted teeth I say, “I know.”
    Jason hands me my other ski, but keeps his distance. With a sweep of my hand I say, “Blaine, this is Jason.” He knows the name, but not the history. It’s hard to tell skiing stories without including Jason. He knows Jason is an ex-boyfriend. It’s enough for him to realize why I didn’t want to kiss him. Blaine’s lips are pursed. He drops the rest of my gear at my feet and skis over to the procession of boys bouncing down the hill. Their squeals of delight fade as guilt overwhelms me.
    Jason and I ski down without a word. The line is short and we don’t speak until we’re on the chairlift.
    He bangs his ski pole against a ski to knock the snow off. “Boyfriend?”
    I don’t look at him. I lean my face against the cold metal. “Yeah. It’s not going so well.”
    He says, “What’s new?” Ouch.
    I look at him and see he is pissed too. But why?
    Crap. I know Blaine is angry because he realizes why I didn’t want to kiss him. That can’t feel good, and he probably thinks I’m still into Jason. But why is Jason mad? Does he still love me? I just steamrolled my way to him this morning, didn’t I? I’d be a fool to not realize I still feel something. But what? I lean over the bar and stare down at the snow moving below.
    One of the most redeeming qualities Jason has is his inability to stay mad. We sit with our