Theo smiled at me from the opposite end of the hot tub, and his eyes traveled to my orange swimsuit top, where falling snow kissed my skin and rolled down my chest. I kicked at him for overtly checking me out, but he immediately hooked his foot around my ankle and tugged, nearly pulling me under the water—like the absolute dungeon troll he was. I yelped, scrambling to place my ass back on the seat, and I splashed at him for laughing.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Walker asked from the edge of the tub.

Theo and I quickly unraveled our feet so he could join us. "Just a murder attempt," I huffed, and the barista grinned into his can of sparkling water.

After skiing, the five of us picked up some pizzas and drove over to Van's rental in South Tahoe. I'd been expecting the likes of a shack or a toolshed when we pulled up the driveway—simply based on the price bracket for lakeside property and vacation homes, not to mention Van's humble lifestyle. But to my pleasant surprise, the house was newly renovated, possessed a fully functioning furnace, and Van shared it with three sane, well-endowed roommates.

And most notably, it came with a hot tub for mid-winter soaks.

The hot water soothed my aching, overworked muscles, while the cool air provided the perfect contrast to our boiling cauldron. Above us, the sky shed fat, lazy snow flurries, and we even had a view of Big Blue through the trees.

Well, the alpine lake was more of a metallic silver at the moment, but it was still as magnificent as it was deep.

Despite living so close to the popular tourist destination, I only made it up to the lake once or twice a year. But every time I drove up to the east shore for an ice bath or a day of sunbathing, I never left my camera behind; the national wonder always promised a gorgeous landscape. It didn't matter how many times I'd gazed upon her—the lake never disappointed.

"Good job out there today, Mona," Walker said, lifting his glasses on top of his head so he could see through the steam. The two of us had skied together after I'd encouraged Theo to tackle the more advanced runs, and we'd had a blast weaving gracefully around children and other beginners. "These white people enjoy the thrill of chutes and double blacks, but I'll settle for the bunny hills. I just want to enjoy my day off, you know? Maybe drink a beer on my way down." He winked at me. "Just know you have a skiing buddy if you ever need one."

I smiled, sensing Theo's attentive eyes on me. "Thank you. I might take you up on that."

Commotion rang from the kitchen, and I spotted our competitive duo kicking back shots. Van cackled at something Baker said, shaking his head at us through the sliding glass door. Get a load of this kid, his expression conveyed. But Baker was already pouring herself another drink and challenging him to a second round.

"So," Walker draped his arm across the tub rim behind me. "Theo tells me you're about to start your last year of school. What happens after that? Any plans?"

I spared an apologetic glance in Theo's direction, aware that he'd heard this all before, but it wasn't boredom that tainted his expression right now. It was something else entirely.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, expecting judgment, but all I found in Walker's eyes was curiosity. "For so long, I thought I wanted to get the hell out of this town. Cut my roots and abandon ship, you know? But when I try to look that far into the future, I don't see anything clearly." My shoulders dropped. "There's just...no vision. Nothing."

Walker sighed, and he leaned closer to me, halving the distance between us until our faces were a few inches apart. But unlike most men I'd had the displeasure of speaking with, he'd created an intimate space that was actually comfortable. It felt friendly, and innocuous, and disarming. And I instantly knew that his proximity was not intended to trap, but to invite.

"I feel you," he said. "I was in the same boat at your age. I knew I belonged in a creative environment, and music always felt like something that came naturally to me, but I didn't know how to capitalize on it."

I nodded, encouraging him to continue. I felt the same way about photography and psychology. Both subjects suited me, and yet I'd never felt so lost when it came to picking an emphasis.

"I changed my major like four times—and my dad was about to beat my ass for it too—but then my boss at the record store told me he was selling his business and starting his own recording studio. He was looking for a sound engineer, and it just...clicked." He shook his head like he still couldn't believe it. "I knew he'd take us places, so I dropped out of school, signed up for some online training courses, and secured the job." His smile was warm, and he passed me a kind, meaningful look. "Life can change pretty dramatically when you meet the right people."

I smiled back at him, amazed by the winding path he'd forged. Unlike Theo, who'd chosen noble work over his passion, Walker had waited for the world to throw him a bone. He'd chased the gut feeling until the universe punched him square in the stomach. And now he was living his dream—and making a living.

"So who knows where life will take you," he went on. "I mean, befriending Theo brought you here today." His eyes flicked to the brunette across the tub. A brunette whose grin had died ages ago. "And now you're bestowed with the pleasure of my company...and my delectable male physique."

We traded playful grins at that. Walker was certainly good-looking, but he resembled a professional piano player—tall and thin and a little fragile—and I was certain I had a wider ribcage than he did. Of course, that made his joke all the more endearing. "What a fortunate turn of events," I teased.

When I glanced back at Theo, hoping he'd find the dialogue as amusing as I did, I was taken aback by the irritation on his face—and the anger stirring in his eyes as he glared at his friend.

Jealous, Carl deduced, and I bristled.

Jealous? Why the hell would Theo be jealous?

Even if Walker was hitting on me, which I knew he wasn't, it was Theo's fault for keeping our relationship a secret. Now I couldn't fend off his male friends without digging myself a deeper hole full of white lies and awkward rejections. If he wanted to make some sort of claim, that was on him.

Besides. Our exclusivity clause only pertained to physical affection. Nothing prevented either of us from seeking attention from the opposite sex. We'd established that from day one.

"I'm gonna grab a drink," Theo announced, eyeing Walker as he slid out of the tub. He snatched his towel and walked back to the house, shaking out his dark hair and denying me a goodbye. He passed Adora on his way, and she shot him a peculiar look as she flicked on the string lights hanging over the patio.

As soon as Theo entered the kitchen, Walker removed his arm and peeled away from me to return to his rotary jet. And I couldn't help thinking he looked a little too satisfied with himself.

The evening concluded with a movie night, even though no one seemed particularly interested in the film itself. We were all too drunk, too distracted, or too stoned to absorb the contents of Wes Anderson's latest adventure.

Baker, my drunken plus-one, lay perpendicular to me on the sectional with her head in my lap. For the last ten minutes, she'd been scrolling through obscure memes and chuckling to herself, lifting her phone to show me every post that sent her into a fit of giggles. I'd indulged her the best I could, but tonight, my mind was on Theo.

He'd been outside chatting with Adora for at least fifteen minutes now, and I was dying to be a fly on the wall during that conversation. From this angle, I could only see Adora's face in the window—her mouth contorted in a stern frown, the snowflakes salting her beanie. She did not look happy, and it gnawed at my gut lining.

Part of me was a little intimidated by their closeness, even though she wasn't interested in Theo romantically. Of course, I valued that he was capable of building a genuine, platonic friendship with a woman, and clearly, they had a connection that surpassed skiing partners. But because of that, I also knew her opinion of me could make or break my situationship, and it made it difficult to let my guard down.

I just...wanted so badly to acquire a support system like Theo's, and I'd put incredible pressure on myself to start working toward that goal, to be cared for the way his friends cared for each other, to secure a found family beyond Baker. But today proved that I'd already befriended someone who was willing to climb mountains for me—and help me descend their precipitous faces. That was pretty much all I could ask for, and it frightened me, knowing that what we had could suddenly crumble against external forces.

Theo seemed adamant about remaining friends, but if his old, beloved friends disapproved, was that even possible?

Adora suddenly vanished from view, and I heard the kitchen door slide open and close again. My stomach flopped around in apprehension, and I craned my head to see the pair speaking in hushed tones by the oven. Adora gave Theo one last pointed look before she snatched a cookie off the baking tray and waltzed into the living room. Theo hung back for a moment, shedding his jacket as he assessed the seating arrangements.

His gaze swept over Van, who lay sprawled across the ground on a pile of pillows, blankets, and snack bags intended to satiate the munchies, then Walker, who'd claimed the comfy recliner covered in cat hair. And by the time Theo removed his outer layers, Adora had already made herself at home on the beanbag chair—the last empty seat in the house.

When Theo's gaze landed on the sectional, he and Baker glared at each other in a kind of 'I suppose I can tolerate you' manner. Then we locked eyes, and he shot me a tentative smile.

I returned it, unsure what it was that plagued his mind as he moved for my half of the couch. Had Adora convinced him this was a bad idea? Did he regret bringing me here?

Was it over?

Then, with a boldness that startled me, he climbed in behind me on the sectional—disrupting Baker's resting position—and extended his legs on either side of me.

Oh.

My heart kicked against my ribcage as he wrapped his arms around my waist and confidently pulled me back against his chest, as if he'd been waiting to do that all day, and he couldn't restrain himself a moment longer.

Without uttering a single word, he'd destroyed the boundaries we'd drawn at his birthday party—and the lies he'd asked me to safeguard. In one move, he'd made it known to everyone in the room that we'd surpassed friendship, and most likely, the hurdles of physical intimacy.

Although, based on his friends' reactions, they'd known that all along.

Van, bless his soul, was too stoned to do anything but wink at us. Walker was grinning like an evil mastermind, but he kept his eyes on the television as if nothing notable had transpired. And when I glanced over at Adora, she wore a small, smug smile, and I was pretty sure I had her to thank for shooting our charade in the face.

"What did I miss?" Theo whispered, his gaze on the screen.

"A whole montage of graphic anal sex."

"...Seriously?"

I elbowed him in the ribs for sounding so intrigued. "No!"

As Theo draped a blanket over both of us, trying to explain himself between snickers, I reflected on our similar trials today. On the mountain, I'd attempted to mask my skill level in hopes of impressing him and his friends, only to manifest the very problem I'd sought to avoid. And Theo had tried to hide the nature of our relationship from his peers, lest they prod and poke and overcomplicate our arrangement. But his friends weren't stupid, and they'd pushed and pushed until he'd had no choice but to come clean. And in the end, he had.

I'd thought I might die of embarrassment if they ever unraveled the lie, especially while present, but right now, all I felt was immense relief—and beneath the blanket, Theo's warm, calloused fingers linking with mine.