Shredded Read Online Free Page B

knows what I could catch from having my fingers anywhere near this guy’s pants.
    “You still haven’t gotten me my drink. Plus I need three Power O’s.”
    I sigh. “Do I really have to go over the whole no-shirt thing again?” I glance around the room, praying for someone—anyone—to come up to the counter so I can switch my attention off Z and to an actual customer. But either no one’s thirsty or they’re having too good a time watching the show to want to interrupt it.
    “You’re not actually serious about that, are you?”
    “I’m always serious.”
    He looks like he’s got something to say to that, but before he can get the words out of his mouth, he gets rushed by the girl from earlier and two other guys. They look vaguely familiar, and after a minute of staring at them like a moron, I realize it’s because my aunt introduced me to them on my first day here. They’re part of the group of snowboarders and skiers Lost Canyon partially sponsors.
    It’s no surprise that it takes me a minute to place them. I’d felt like I’d fallen into an alternate universe that day, one where my whole life had gone topsy-turvy batshit crazy. How could I not when things had changed so fast? When what I wanted—needed—most had ceased to exist in the blink of an eye?
    “Dude, what are you doing?” the tall blond guy demands, interrupting my pity party. “Put your clothes back on before you scare the new girl away.”
    “Yeah, man,” the dark-haired one chimes in. “Walk around like that long enough and some of the snow cougars are going to start shoving dollar bills in your pants.”
    Z flips them off, but when one of them hands him a T-shirt, he takes it and shrugs it on. I feel an instant of regret. Though I hassled him about being shirtless, it’s almost a shame to see all that beautiful skin get covered up again. Almost.
    “Hey. I’m Cam.” The girl waves a hand in my face, and I immediately jerk my gaze over to hers. I’m embarrassed to be caught gawking at Z, but she doesn’t seem mad. In fact, she looks amused as she thrusts a hand out to me.
    I shake it automatically. “I’m Ophelia.”
    “Cool name.”
    Not really. “Thanks.”
    “This is Ash.” She points to the tall blond guy with the floppy hair. “And this is Lucas. And you’ve already met Z. We all ride together.”
    “It’s nice to meet you.”
    “You too. It’s hard not to like a girl who doesn’t take Z’s shit.”
    “Hey! Whose side are you on?” Z demands.
    She ignores him, looks at me curiously. “So, where are you from?”
    “New Orleans.”
    “No way! I love that city!” Lucas tells me. “How come you don’t have an accent?”
    “Who says I don’t?” I lay the southern girl on thick.
    “That’s better,” he says with a nod. “I’ve always wanted to go for Mardi Gras, but it’s always in the middle of competition season.”
    “How ’bout you?” Z speaks up for the first time since his friends came over. I turn to look at him, then glance quickly away. I don’t like the way he’s staring at me, all intense and predatory, like a jungle cat playing with his food before he devours it. “You’ve probably been doing Mardi Gras for years.”
    “Nope. It’s not really my thing.” The lie almost sticks in my throat, because for years no one loved the two weeks before Fat Tuesday more than I. The parades, the crowds, the music, the beads, the booze. What’s not to like? Everything, it turns out.
    “What?” Now they’re all looking at me like I’m crazy. “Who lives in freaking New Orleans and doesn’t go out for Mardi Gras?” Z demands.
    By this time, memories are swamping me and my muscles are so taut that any sudden movement on my part might snap them right off the bone. I try to keep calm, though. Nothing good will come from dredging up the past. Or from letting them see how much this subject stresses me out. Annoyed with myself, with him, with the whole damn situation, I tilt my head up and