Margot lifted her hand in a sassy two-finger salute before waddling over to the magic carpet, her skis spreading further apart with each step she took. Olivia cringed. “Shuffle, Mar. Don’t lift. Push forward. Use your thighs.”
“Got it.” Margot waved a gloved hand.
“Liv and I are going to head up to the next hill, okay?” Luke said, resting one hand on the small of Olivia’s back, guiding her toward the longer of the two magic carpets, the one that would take them slightly higher up on the mountain.
Margot’s shuffled footsteps faltered, her eyes dropping to where Luke’s hand rested on Olivia’s waist. Her jaw slid forward and she nodded. “Sure. Meet you back down here.”
Olivia bit back a cringe, at the touch, the use of her nickname, and Margot’s reaction. It wasn’t that she minded being called Liv, it was that Luke hadn’t bothered to ask. It grated, reminding her of how Brad had glommed on to the nickname Dad called her. For over ten years she’d suffered in silence, because at first she hadn’t wanted to be rude or abrasive, and later because it was too late. She’d let it go on too long to say anything after he’d been calling her Livvy for over a year.
Now, she didn’t want to make a scene. What did it matter if Brendon’s friend called her Liv? The chances of seeing him again after this weekend were slim.
He was a nice guy, but that was just it. Olivia didn’t want nice. She wanted Margot.
Olivia smiled as Margot waddled over to the people mover, shuffling awkwardly, looking a little like she had a wedgie. Olivia wanted that. Margot with her sharp laugh and sly smiles and dirty jokes and huge heart. Her quiet confidence and how fiercely loyal she was. Even her inability to ski—though she seemed bound and determined to figure it out—and her tendency to act first and ask questions later. Everything, even Margot’s flaws, was endearing to Olivia.
What Margot wanted, that remained a mystery. It was hard to say, with how she blew hot one minute and cold the next, acting like this thing between them was casual before looking at Olivia like she was something precious, looking at her in a way that no one else ever quite had, not even Brad. Keeping a solid three feet between them when they were around Brendon and the rest of her friends but kissing her sweetly in the privacy of the elevator. Wanting to keep whatever this was between them quiet, keep it from her friends for the week—or so she said—but glaring at Luke from across the deck.
It didn’t feel like she was imagining a shift, an intensity in Margot’s gaze and an urgency in the way she touched Olivia that hadn’t been there before. But a terrible, anxious little voice in the back of Olivia’s brain whispered that Margot was only acting this way, acting like she wanted something more with Olivia, because someone else wanted her, too.
Olivia wasn’t sure how much more of this whiplash she could take.
“So would you want to?” Luke stared at her expectantly as they reached the top of the slope.
Olivia winced. “Sorry? I missed that. Would I want to what?”
Luke smiled patiently and repeated himself. “Would you want to hang out sometime? You said you were relatively new to the city, and I haven’t lived here in a few years, but I’ve got a good grasp of the general lay of the land.” The right corner of his mouth lifted a little higher than the left, his smile going crooked. It was a credit to how intensely gone for Margot she was that her heart didn’t stutter at the sight of his dimple or his perfectly white teeth. Her heart didn’t even speed up. “I could show you around. Take you to some of my old haunts. If you’re interested.”
Internally, Olivia cringed. “Um, yeah. You know, last night was so much fun. Wouldn’t it be fun if we all got together again? As a group. I think that would be great.”
Hint, hint.
“Here.” Luke fished around in one of the many pockets of his cargo pants, pulling out his phone, pressing it into her palm. “Give me your number and I’ll text you mine. We can set something up sometime.”
“Sure.” She added her number to his contacts and handed him his phone back.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he simply pocketed his phone with a smile and didn’t push the issue, asking her to commit to a date. She adjusted her grip on her poles, leaning forward, bending her knees slightly in order to gain speed. As she approached the bottom of the slope, Olivia pointed her skis together, careful to keep the tips from crossing. Snow fluttered around her legs as she stopped fairly quickly, managing to keep herself steady, only wobbling slightly.