Blurb：
When Jules Kirby's casual boyfriend refuses a ski trip, she impulsively books a lesson with a handsome instructor at Emberpeak Lodge—only to discover the instructor is Flynn Covington, the guy she's been seeing. After a mistaken text and a cold "k" response, their icy encounter on the slopes ignites a story of jealousy, misunderstandings, and romance. Set against the backdrop of Northridge State University and snowy adventures, this tale follows Jules and her best friend Sasha as sparks fly with the quiet, intellectual Flynn. Perfect for fans of enemies-to-lovers and winter getaways.Content：
§01I asked the guy I was sort of seeing to go skiing.
He said no.
“Fine, I’ll just go with someone else!” I texted back, a childish sting behind the words.
His reply was a single, devastating letter.
“k.”
It was enough to make me see red.
In a fit of pique, I booked a lesson with a ridiculously handsome, 6’2” instructor whose profile promised he’d literally carry me down the mountain.
Later that week, flushed from the cold and the thrill of the day, I skated up to him, my heart doing a silly little flutter. “So, uh, about that lesson…”
The guy I was sort of seeing pulled down his ski goggles, his expression as frosty as the air around us.
“Jules,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Even if you’re just keeping me on the hook, you could at least pretend to recognize me.”
It all started with a video that my phone decided was crack cocaine for my algorithm.
Endless clips of girls being swept up by gorgeous ski instructors.
Princess-carried down pristine slopes.
Tucked securely in front of them, sliding through a winter wonderland.
Every frame was practically fizzing with pink, bubbly romance.
I immediately forwarded it to my best friend, Sasha.
[Babe, look at this! This is a VIBE. I need this in my life!]
A reply came back instantly.
[?]
I blinked. Sasha never replied that fast. She lived surgically attached to her work laptop.
Then I saw the contact name.
The Quiet One.
Flynn Covington.
A tidal wave of panic crashed over me. I fumbled with my phone, my fingers suddenly thick and clumsy, and hit ‘unsend’.
Too late.
[I already saw it.]
I tried to play it cool. [Saw what? No idea what you’re talking about.]
He sent a screenshot.
Of course he did. Who screenshots that fast?
“…”
[It was a mistake, okay? It wasn’t meant for you.]
[Who was it for? You call him ‘babe’?]
I was about to type out a frantic explanation when a thought, slick and opportunistic, slithered into my brain.
Sasha, with her insane work schedule, would never actually go with me.
But here was a perfectly good… option.
I cleared my throat and changed my strategy.
[Heh. Actually, it *was* for you.]
[You free to go skiing with me next month?]
It felt a little weak. I decided to double down.
[Babe?]
It took a long time for Flynn to reply.
[I’m busy.]
So blunt.
He needed a little push. A sense of urgency.
[Fine! Then I’ll just hire a hot instructor to carry me down the mountain!]
[k.]
He replied instantly this time.
That single letter was like a match to a fuse.
[You said it, not me!]
I furiously scrolled through the Emberpeak Lodge ski school website and found him: a 6’2” Adonis with a jawline that could cut glass.
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The End