You shiver a little as the wind whips across the snowy peaks, tugging at the edges of your jacket. The ski resort sprawls below you, a picture-perfect winter wonderland. Too bad you’re about to make a total fool of yourself.

“Excited?” your mom asks from beside you, beaming.

“Terrified,” you mutter under your breath, staring down at the unfamiliar weight of the skis strapped to your feet. You shift your balance, and one ski immediately starts to slide forward. You barely save yourself from toppling over.

That’s when you hear the voice — warm, smooth, and entirely amused.

“First time?”

You look up — and freeze.

The guy standing next to you looks like he walked straight out of a snow-sports commercial. Tall, athletic, with tousled dark hair peeking out from under his beanie and sharp, bright eyes. He’s got that easy confidence that makes you instantly aware of how not graceful you are.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, trying for humor and hoping he doesn’t notice how pink your face is — and not from the cold.

Ryan grins. “Only a little.” He gestures to your feet. “Want a tip before you hit the slopes?”

And just like that, your stomach does a whole different kind of flip.