My Best Friend’s Dad by Sadie Black EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Sadie Black
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / ePub
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Piper
T screams past me in a shock of color and light,
nothing like what I expected to see in Aspen, Colorado.
I rest my head against the cold glass window of my Uber and try to
process it all. The hills are alive with gold and orange and flaming red
foliage. And—are those gigantic, rocky peaks in the distance the actual
mountains that people go skiing down? And what’s with all the twinkle
lights? Does everything here look like Christmas on steroids all the time, or
is this just a seasonal thing? It’s September! It’s not even Halloween yet.
A throat clears from the driver’s seat in front of me. “Ma’am? Do you?”
“Sorry, I missed that. Do I what?”
“Do you like skiing?” he repeats.
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He glances at me in the rearview mirror and I wonder what he sees. I
wonder what in the world makes him think a suntanned girl in flip-flops
knows anything about skiing.
“I’ve never been,” I admit.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen snow in person, either. Not even
as a small kid on a trip. There are no framed photos of such things to be
found in the archives of my parents’ house, with a tiny Piper dressed in
snow jackets and covered in frost. Where I’m from, in Florida, only the
elite get to trade the beach for the snow, and my family is far from elite.
But what do the mountains have that beaches don’t, anyway? They
certainly don’t boast the same bottomless blue waters, lapping waves, and
stretches of sand scattered with driftwood and shells and palm trees. I
glance out the window again at the shadowy outline of the mountain range
in the distance, like some behemoth rising from the dirt.
“What’s it like?” I ask.
“Hmm?” He flicks his gaze to me once more before returning his focus
to the road.
How long was I lost in my own head? “Skiing. What’s it like?”
“Dunno. Only rich people ski.”
He laughs as he takes a tight turn and swipes away a notification on the
phone mounted to his dashboard. A tiny blue dot shows where we are on
the GPS map, with swaths of green on either side of the road. It’s not the
snowy season yet, though I can see a layer of white on the mountains in the
distance. Which, thank God. It’s a mild fifty-eight degrees here, but I still
feel like a Popsicle. Brr.
I get a text from my mom, written in her usual passive-aggressive tone.
“I’ve been tracking your flights, so will you kindly confirm for your father
and me that you safely landed in one piece approximately forty minutes
ago?” My God. I text her back quickly, rolling my eyes.
The driver finally pulls to a slow stop in front of a grand resort, and I
glance up with a start. It’s the kind of place with uniformed men lined up
outside, waiting to whisk away your car and luggage for you.
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