I saw him, just like it always did. He was so incredibly hot, even bundled in a snowboarding jacket and black and gray beanie, the kind that flopped over the back of his head. I shouldn't have worried about the tray. Logan was carrying one.
He grabbed me and pulled me against him, kissing me with that fierce passion I lived for. His tongue was hot and talented in my mouth, giving me tingles all the way to my toes. When he pulled away, I was breathless.
He tapped my chest. "New bra? I don't like it. Too hard and plastic-y. Has a nice, hollow tap, though."
I laughed and pulled the tray out from beneath my coat. "Smart ass. I was being covert. The university will give you three to five hard labor if they catch you lifting one of these." I pointed at his. "Where did you get that?"
He shook his head and laughed. "The dining hall. Almost four years ago."
"You're supposed to return that after you use it."
He grinned. "I have every intention—when I graduate. This is a four-year loaner model."
"I see."
He took my gloved hand in his and led me out from beneath the covered front porch. "Isn't it gorgeous?" he said, but he was staring at me. "You look good enough to eat." He nuzzled my neck.
I laughed and pushed him away. "Wolf."
"Yeah," he said, pulling me along.
The streets were full of students playing in the white stuff.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Only to the best damn traying hill on campus." He led me to the large grass hill between the architecture building and the honors hall. It was covered with students sledding down on trays. The sound of laughter echoed off the buildings.
"If the university ever wises up and actually wants to catch tray thieves, this would be the place to look," I said.
"Yeah." He nodded. "If you see campus security coming—run! It's every man for himself." He kissed me again and pulled me to the top of the hill and tray run. At the top of the run, he pulled a small piece of snowboard wax and a lighter from his pocket and grinned evilly. "Give me your tray."
"What are you up to?"
"Take a look at everyone else as they slide down the hill. These things need a little help." He winked and used the lighter to melt the wax onto the bottom of my tray. Then he pulled a tri-shaped scraper from his pocket and scraped the excess off and buffed it. He sat the tray on the ground in front of me. "You're good to go. Hop on. But be careful. This thing's going to rocket."
I shook my head. "I'll wait for you."
"I'm ready to go. I waxed my board at home. Now get on."
He held my tray while I sat and wedged myself on it. "Hold on to the edge of the tray. These things have a way of scooting out from under you. Keep your feet up and aim straight for the bottom of the hill. On my count, push off. Three, two…" He slapped his tray on the hill next to mine. "One!" He gave me a push, jumped on his tray, and we were off.
His tray slid right and true down the hill, passing me almost immediately. He had the technique down. I wobbled and got sideways, falling off my tray less than halfway down. My tray slid away from me. Logan was already at the bottom. He ran up and retrieved my tray, then gave me a hand up, pulling me into his arms.
"I suck."
He shook his head and kissed me lightly as the snow fell on us. "First time's a bitch. You'll get the hang of it." He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the top again.
The second time, I got it. And it was like flying—the best thing ever. Better than sledding. Better than boarding. 'Cause I was with Logan. And about a thousand other students on the hill. But they hardly seemed to exist at all, except to add to the joy with their laughter and squeals. I screamed all the way down.
Logan beat me to the bottom of the hill. I tumbled off my tray into the snow just as I reached him, laughing. He caught my tray and grinned at me. "Well?"
"Again!"
We ran back to the top of the hill, hand in hand, carrying our trays, and went again and again. The seventh or eighth
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