Chapter 20: Sunlight, Snow & Secrets
The sun was high and unapologetically bright, casting a glittering sheen over the snowy slopes.
The group had gathered again, bundled in layers of colorful jackets, mismatched gloves, and ski helmets that did little to contain the laughter echoing through the mountains.
Leo, ever the composed older brother with a sarcastic streak, was the unofficial leader of the group's ski chaos.
"I swear," he said, adjusting his goggles, "if Mia falls into another bush, I'm disowning her publicly."
"That bush came out of nowhere!" Mia protested, elbowing him.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold—and from the fact that Marc had been the one to pull her out of said bush, laughing the entire time.
Marc, the easygoing architect with a permanently amused expression, winked at her. "Don't worry, next time I'll fall with you. Very romantic."
Nina, tall and radiant, a lawyer with a wicked sense of humor, snorted. "If I have to hear one more ski-resort rom-com line, I'm pushing someone off the lift."
"Noted," said David, the soft-spoken IT consultant who was trying to teach Alex how to snowboard—badly.
"But if you push me, I'm taking you with me."
Alex, with her half-pink hair and camera always around her neck, yelled, "Hey! Less threats, more posing—I want photos of this dysfunction!"
Jonas stood slightly apart from the rest for a moment, watching everyone with that quiet satisfaction he reserved for rare moments.
Then he turned to Lina, who was struggling with her ski boots.
"Need help, beautiful?" he asked, crouching beside her.
"No, I'm just... aggressively negotiating with my footwear."
He chuckled and brushed snow from her hat. "You always look gorgeous, even while fighting inanimate objects."
"Stop being charming. It's distracting."
"Good," he whispered, before stealing a kiss that made her wobble slightly.
"Okay, stop," she said, breathless. "If I fall over again, it's on you."
Later, after bruised egos and frostbitten noses, they returned to the lodge.
Jonas had ordered a catered spread—steaming trays of roast vegetables, fresh pasta, rich stews, and Lina's favorite: honey-glazed salmon with lemon thyme.
They crammed into the rustic dining room, plates piled high, conversation flowing with the wine.
Someone lit the fireplace and the whole space felt like a warm embrace.
Leo raised a glass. "To Jonas—who can't ski but can plan a damn fine menu."
"To Jonas!" they all echoed.
"And to Lina," added Marc, "for not dying on the bunny slope."
"I wasn't even on the bunny slope," she protested.
"Exactly," Mia muttered, sipping her wine.
"She fell before the slope."
They laughed, teasing light and easy.
Then, as dessert was being served—tiny vanilla soufflés and molten chocolate cakes—Marc leaned back in his chair.
"I have a story."
"Oh no," Mia said immediately.
"Oh yes," Leo grinned.
Marc smirked. "Once upon a time, Mia tried to impress her high school crush by pretending she knew how to ride a horse."
"I will end you," Mia warned.
"She got on backwards," Marc continued, "and then the horse—her name was Daisy, by the way—bolted.
Mia screamed like a banshee and landed in a pond."
"Okay, that's enough!" Mia cried, face beet red.
Lina laughed so hard she snorted wine through her nose.
Then Leo added, "And then she tried to pretend it was all part of her interpretative riding routine."
Even Jonas, who rarely cracked up, doubled over.
But just as Mia prepared her revenge (with a spoonful of whipped cream aimed at Marc's face), Marc caught her hand gently, and the tension dissolved into something tender.
Lina noticed the way Jonas looked at her across the room—like she was the best story in a room full of legends.
And just for a moment, with cheeks flushed from wine and warmth, she forgot everything else.