When Jen and Richard invited me on their apre ski adventure, I hadn't thought twice about saying yes. I had just wrapped up three straight months of intense shooting, moving from one set to the next, hopping towns in the wee hours of the morning. I needed a break, any kind of break. For a while, I had been worried that I couldn't say no to anyone, that I needed to money more than I needed the down time.

But money was not an issue anymore. All of my debts were paid off and I didn't flinch every time I paid off my month's rent. So, a weekend in a nice cabin a few hundred kilometers away from from my home and away from my camera gear sounded like a dream instead of a pricey burden.

I hadn't really considered that I would actually go skiing- something I hadn't done since I was about ten. I knew that the mountain resort where we were staying catered to some of the top skiers in the country. I was not going to get by being as rusty as I was and I certainly wasn't going to drive for a few hours just to sit and stare at another four walls.

So, I decided that it was time to go skiing, just for a half day. I was sure that it was going to be like riding a bike. After a few minutes, my limbs would move with strength and grace and all would be well. It would be easy.

But staring up at the lift, with only my rented skis as my companion, I felt far from in my element. I told myself that it was first time nerves and forced myself to click my stiff, plastic boots into the bindings. I double checked my helmet's chin strap, making sure it was snug and secure, and pulled down my cheap goggles. Stabbing one pole into the crisp snow, then the other, I pushed myself towards the lift where everyone was chatting excitedly, thrilled about their runs.

I just gulped in a deep breath and hoped that I didn't die today.

I wobbled and whimpered on the T-bar, but that was only the beginning. My first run was a wreck. I knew that I looked as awful as I felt because others gawked at me, watching my poles flail about, my toes pointed towards each other as I tried to slow down. Even with the cold biting at my skin, my cheeks flamed red as a child, no more than five, zipped passed me, moving with confidence and plunged down an expert run that I was avoiding.

My calves were screaming by the time I reached the bottom of the slope. I wanted to give up now. I had done it and it hadn't come back right away, but who cared anyway? And who would know if I gave up now anyway?

But I had spent a fortune on my half-day pass and my rentals. I might not carve the mountain with confidence and I might not slay moguls like it was my day job, but I could get up and down the hill and if I wanted to enjoy my time in a small BC town with nothing but slopes, I was going to have to get comfortable now.

I rode the T-bar again, less wobbly on my dismount and a little looser in my hips when I turned. Instead of staying with my legs in the notorious "pizza" stance, I was able to get my skis parallel with each other, in the "french fry" position. I was still getting passed by like crazy, snowboarders and skiers whirling around me, but I didn't flinch every time someone came too close.

By the fourth time I hit the bottom of the hill, I decided to maybe try my hand at a new run. The T-bar continued up the hill for several hundred meters. Maybe I could just stay on longer and ski down some new terrain. But as I studied the map, I realized that I was surrounded by rougher runs for more experienced athletes. So, I went back up my little lift, trying not to think that I was mostly surrounded by children.

The run started like all of the others and I could feel a tiny smile tugging up the corners of my mouth. I was getting better. I could feel it. My calves were tired from the torment I had put them through previously, but were not actively engaged all the time. My arms now longer flailed about, just stayed close to my body. Each turn came easier, pushing up the fluffy snow around me. My gut no longer clenched every time I saw someone cross my path. I just moved around them.

Yes, I could do this. I could actually spend money on a vacation and enjoy it. My speed increased. My blonde hair trailed behind me and I repressed the urge to grin like a complete fool or to whoop out in joy.

I sped into my turn, feeling confident and in control.

Until I felt my inside leg slip. Then my outside leg gave way.

I had charged into a patch of ice, full steam ahead.

It happened fairly quickly. One moment my legs were underneath me and I felt like I could conquer the world. The next, I slammed down on my side, my ribs taking the brunt of the fall. However, in the small amount of time between, there was a couple curses and way too much movement from my legs.

My tips were pounded into the snow in an effort to right me, then bucked out. Something twisted. And something really hurt.

I laid flat on my side, blinking slowly as I tried to collect myself. My head had slammed into the ground, but my helmet saved me. My ribs were aching, but manageable. The pain was in my legs. Specifically my knee.

"Jesus, are you alright?" someone asked. There was a rough noise of a board stopped on the snow. I couldn't see the face beneath the goggles and helmet and neckwarmer, but I knew.

My whole body went rigid. Oh no. No! They didn't ski here. They didn't bum around these little hills meant for occasional adventure enthusiasts. They did the big mountains, hours away. That's exactly why I had come here because I knew that they were never going to be here.

I said nothing, hoping that my goggles and helmet would hide me.

Too bad Hudson took my silence from agony. "Can you stand? Do you want me to call ski patrol?"

"I'm fine," I hissed.

Hudson didn't say anything for a second. He leaned back and for a moment, I wondered if he was just going to leave me there and snowboard away. Hell, I almost wished he would. but right now, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to make it down the hill without assistance.

"Penelope?"

"Hi," I grunted, attempting to shift my weight. With my skis tangled, it only added more strain to my knee. My teeth clenched together.

I thought that Hudson would say a million things then. He could be like Connor and accuse me of leaving him, of hurting his career or threaten to destroy mine. Or, he could apologize a hundred times. He could say whatever he wanted because it was clear that I was not going to be to get away.

But I should have known that Hudson wasn't like that.

He was in full ski mode.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked.

"A little."

"What did you have for breakfast?"

"Eggs and toast," I replied. "I think the helmet saved me. I didn't lose consciousness."

"Do you think you're alright to ski down the hill?" he asked, glancing towards the lodge that was about five hundred feet away.

"Yup."

"You're a liar. You're already sweating from the pain. What hurts?"

I wanted to lie to him then. I wanted to tell him that I didn't need him and that I could do this myself. This was no harder than rebuilding my career yet again.

But I knew I wasn't making it down this hill alone and I found that he was right when I brushed my arm over my upper lip. I was sweating.

"My right knee. I think I twisted it or something."

"Alright, that's pretty common. We're going to start with getting the skis off, okay?"

Hudson was as calm and a kind as ever. He talked to me softly as he unclipped my ski boots, letting it come free from the binding. At some point, he disentangled himself from his snowboard as well. Each time he made me move, he explained what he was doing and why. I vaguely wondered how many times he had been in my position because he certainly knew how to handle me and how to move to prevent any sharp spears of pain.

"I can try to carry you down the hill, but it might be safer if I just support you and we hop down together."

"Hudson..."

"I'm not asking you to marry me, princess, I'm just trying to get you to a safe place," he sighed.

To be fair, I literally did not have a leg to stand on.

I tried not to let my mind wander as Hudson eased me onto my feet and wrapped a sturdy arm around my waist. Despite the pain that I was in, I couldn't help but think about how strong his shoulders had been and how tightly he had held me to him when we both crested. And I desperately willed away the thoughts of how handsome he would look first thing in the morning, barely awake and smiling sleepily in the sunlight.

Thankfully, I was only vertical for a few seconds before I was distracted with my foot placement as we started hopping down the hill. My rented gear and his very expensive snowboard were left behind, but that seemed to be the last thing on Hudson's mind.

"What are you doing out here anyway? I had no idea you could even ski," Hudson asked, keeping me tight against him.

"I clearly should stay far away from mountains. They don't seem to be good for my general health."

Hudson had the decency to wince, but didn't push the subject. He just kept a firm hold on my jacket - the one he had bought for me- and kept me steady.

"I've heard that you're doing really well," Hudson tried again, his voice softening. "I don't think I've ever seen Shawna so stunned, but when you told her you didn't want to work for Rush, she was speechless."

I knew that he was trying to be nice. And I also knew that he was helping me down the side of a mountain when he could have left me for someone else to deal with. Plus, I had told him that I forgave him, that I was over it.

But I wasn't.

Having him hold me hurt more than cutting him out of my life.

"I don't need a man to uphold my career," I bit back.

Oddly enough, that enticed a smile from him. He briefly glanced over at me and his brown eyes shone, though it was a little bleak. "I never thought you did. Now, let's get you in your car and get your gear returned."

~~~Question of the Day~~~

Do you enjoy any snow sports? Have you ever gone skiing or snowboarding?