“Well, at least it says something about what the coach thinks of you,” Blake said. “But then again, we all know you’re the best skier out there. Even if I can kick your ass in acroskiing.”
“Yeah, well, some of us like to be fancy, and some of us just go for speed,” Rush teased.
“Okay, boys, let’s not beat our chests too loudly. Thanks again, Rush. So, we’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning?” Danica reached for Blake’s hand. “Honey, I’m just gonna run to the bathroom.”
After Danica left the room, Blake narrowed his eyes at Rush. “Is there something between you and Jayla? Should I go up against your coach to change the teaching schedules?”
“No, man. We’re cool. Thanks anyway.” The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t want Cliff or Patrick anywhere near Jayla. Even though he didn’t have any real concerns about Cliff, he knew Patrick would try to take advantage of her vulnerability. Even thinking about Jayla and vulnerable in the same sentence blew his mind. The Jayla he knew was anything but vulnerable. But after seeing her this afternoon—really seeing her—he wondered what else he’d missed.
Chapter Three
NEED ME? WHAT does that even mean? Jayla had read the text two ways. First with a hopeful heart, which wished for an innuendo for something more, and then with her painfully accurate best-friend eyes. Do you need me to come kick the shit out of Marcus? She didn’t need to be taken care of. Not by Rush. Especially not by Rush.
She paced the tile floor of the bright, well-appointed ladies’ room. It was the only place she could go to think where Marcus wouldn’t barge in. In just three weeks he’d snaked into every crevice of her life—and not in a good way. There was a time when she thought she wanted a guy who would fawn over her, but while Marcus started out as attentive, he quickly became controlling. And by the time she realized what had happened, she was knee deep in the last weeks of competition and couldn’t afford the distraction of a breakup. But seeing Rush in the lobby had jolted her out of the competition stupor she’d fallen into, and with only one competition left, it was time to finally break things off with Marcus. She was ashamed that she’d let competing come before breaking up with a guy who didn’t deserve one date with her, much less three weeks of them.
She’d tried to hold firm to her decision to end things with Marcus, and she’d broached the subject before the meeting, but he’d gone off on a tangent about her looking at Rush in the lobby, and she’d dropped it so she wouldn’t be late for the meeting. The last thing she needed was to piss off the coach, too.
Her muscles were so tight that her shoulder pulsed with a dull ache. She wondered if her life could get any more complicated. She’d have to be on top of her game while working with Rush. One flinch and he’d pick up on it. She could only hope that he’d be too wrapped up in his own training and the teaching to take notice.
She dug Tylenol and Motrin from her pocket and popped them in her mouth, then cupped her hands beneath the sink and swallowed them with a handful of water. She stared in the mirror. Where was the woman she’d worked so hard to become? The proud woman who paid her own way through ski camps and training, proving herself and securing enough sponsors to train at the level she needed in order to try out for the Olympic team. She had bags under her eyes. The emptiness she felt showed in her skin, and if she was honest with herself, she heard it in her voice, too. Face of Dove? Not even close. During training and competitions, she and Rush usually trained all day and hung together in the evenings at least a few times each week. But Rush was a bone of contention between her and Marcus. And Rush had kept his distance the last three weeks. She didn’t blame him, but she missed him to her core.
“Why did I ever accept a date with Marcus in the first place?” she said to her reflection. A toilet flushed and she covered her mouth. Shit. She’d been so troubled that she hadn’t even thought to check the stalls.
Danica came out of the stall in the back of the bathroom and smiled as she walked to the sink to wash her hands. “I asked myself that question a few times before I found my husband.”
Jayla forced a smile, though she really wanted to run out of the bathroom and hide her head in the snow.
Danica eyed her in the mirror as she dried her hands. “You’re Jayla, right? You’ll be teaching with Rush?”
“Mm-hm.” She thought about the invisibility cloak she and Rush often joked about, and she wished she had one right about now.
“Well, not that you asked, but any man who makes you wonder why you are dating him isn’t worth another thought.” Danica looked Jayla up and down. “Especially for someone as pretty and talented as you are. I say, dump him if you’re still with him, and if you’re not…” She shrugged. “Get rid of the memory of him as fast as you can. Burn whatever reminds you of him and cleanse yourself of it.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, Gosh. I gotta run.” She opened the door, then turned back to Jayla. “Listen, if you ever want to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”
“Thanks.” She watched the door close behind Danica. Now she thinks I’m a loser, too. She checked to see that the rest of the stalls were empty; then she turned back to the mirror, pointed at her reflection, and spoke with the decisiveness of her sister Mia.
“You’re done with this shit. Pull up your big girl panties and lose the asshole.” She flung the bathroom doors open and walked out—colliding directly into Rush. Her hands slid down his chest as she clawed for purchase to keep her balance. He caught her in his powerful arms as she keeled to the side and winced in pain before she could check her emotions and hide her reaction to the pain.
“Hey.” It wasn’t an accusation, it was more of a, Hey, are you okay? without the need for the last three words.
“Sorry. Sorry.” She looked into the blue eyes she’d used to pull her through too many lonely nights.
“Are you okay? You were flying like someone was chasing you.”
I was chasing myself. “I’m just…in a hurry.”
“I texted you.”
“Sorry. Coach had me sidetracked.” It wasn’t really a lie. “I’m good. Really.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that how we’re playing this?” He looked down at her hands, still clinging to his chest.
Oh God. What am I doing? She pulled her hands away. “Sorry. I…I gotta go.”
His concerned eyes locked on her. “Jayla, take a deep breath. You’re panting.”
I can’t remember how to breathe.
“It’s me, remember? I know I haven’t been around much lately, but…Are you okay?”
No. “Mm-hmm.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m here. Right now, and I’ve got nowhere else to be if you want to go somewhere and talk.” Rush was a foot taller than her, and when she didn’t respond—couldn’t respond—he bent down and leaned in close. A breath away. “I’ve kept my mouth shut, but damn it, Jay. That guy’s like cancer. He’s sucking the life right out of you. You’re stronger than this. Smarter.”
Her knees weakened, and she steeled herself against falling into his arms. “Nice of you to notice.”
“What does that mean?”
I don’t know, but it sounded tough. Rush had always believed in Jayla, and he’d looked out for her and really cared about her doing what was best for her, above and beyond anyone else’s needs. Now all those reasons she loved him as a friend were trying to break her ability to keep her feelings for him hidden.
He searched her eyes, and she wanted to tell him she was going to dump Marcus. That had been exactly where she was headed when they’d collided, but something else was tugging at her nerves. Anger? Annoyance? Maybe. At herself. For being turned on by another man who would only hurt her in the long run.
“I don’t need to be told what to do,” she said in a harsher tone than she intended.
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I never thought you did. But now? I’m worried about you.”
She took a step back. “I can deal with this. I stay out of your lov
e life. How about staying out of mine?”
The hurt that flashed in his eyes caused years of memories to pummel her heart. They’d been from opposite worlds when they’d met at the tender and confusing ages of thirteen and seventeen. She, from a family who couldn’t afford ski camp, and he, from a family who could have bought every camp west of Kentucky. Rush was running from an overbearing father. Trying to blaze his own path, prove that he was worthy in his own right, even at seventeen. She’d dreamed about Rush summer after summer, counting down the days until winter break when she’d see him again. Emails and texts were great, but they could never replace seeing his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughed, or the weight of his arm draped over her shoulder like they were joined at the hip, even though they’d never even shared a kiss and he’d never treated her as more than his best friend.
Rush ran his hand through his hair, drawing her attention back to the present. Her eyes sailed over the rough stubble on his cheeks, his broad shoulders and muscular chest. He wasn’t just a guy anymore. He was a man, and she knew just what kind of man he was, making it easier for her to walk away.
RUSH COULDN’T GET the feel of Jayla’s curves against him, or the look in her eyes, out of his head. She wasn’t herself. The spark in her eyes was shadowed by worry, stress, and something he couldn’t really read. Where the hell had his head been over the last few weeks? He crossed the cabin floor and sank into the couch. He’d been so focused on the upcoming competition and on telling Jayla how he felt about her that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the whole Jayla-Marcus thing. He’d thought it was a fling. That she’d go on a date or two and then she’d be…What? His? Hell, he had no idea what he thought, or what he’d expected, but he hadn’t expected Marcus to be there this weekend.
Maybe it really was none of his business. He felt so removed from her life right now that it bugged the shit out of him. And on top of it all, she was hiding an injury. He hadn’t missed the way she’d gripped his shirt tighter with her left hand than her right. Her goddamn shoulder. They needed to talk like they used to. To spend a few hours just hashing out what was going on in his heart and in her head. It had been weeks since they’d stayed up late and strategized about training, or caught up on what was going on with their families. Hell, it had been weeks since they laughed or teased each other about stupid shit that they’d never allow anyone else to get away with. He missed Jayla, and he missed their friendship.
He was too frustrated to remain still. He needed to get out and ski. It was after ten, but he could still squeeze in an hour on the slopes if he hurried. He grabbed his coat and headed outside, stopping on the front porch to zip his parka. The cold air stung his cheeks, but it was the loud voices coming from Jayla’s cabin that called his attention.
Walk away.
She’s doesn’t want my help.
His phone vibrated with a text and he pulled it out, hoping it was Jayla, and glad for any distraction, since his legs seemed unable to do what his mind told him to.
The text was from Patrick. We’re at the bar in the lodge. You coming? He could use a drink…or five. Hell, he could use any reason not to get involved with Jayla and Marcus, but as his fingers hovered over the phone, his conscience took over. He cared too much about Jayla to walk away.
“Fuck.” He sat down on one of the chairs on the porch and responded to the text. Not tonight. Thanks anyway.
Patrick’s response came through a few minutes later. Whatever. You’re missing out. Tons of ski bunnies.
Rush could make it through a complete training season without another ski bunny, but knowing that his coach was concerned enough about Jayla to make him work with her, and seeing that damn look in her eyes, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d make it through the next ten minutes without knowing she was okay. He pulled his ski hat down low and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, then debated what to do.
He didn’t have much time to think. The door to Jayla’s cabin flew open and Marcus stomped down the porch steps and headed toward the resort. Rush jumped to his feet and crossed the deep snow to Jayla’s cabin, muscles flexed, eyes locked on Marcus as he faded into the dark. His heart hammered against his ribs as he climbed the steps to the porch and found the door ajar, the cabin dark. Shit. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her, but if that asshole hurt her…
“Jayla?” Anger and worry drove him through the door. “Jayla? It’s me.”
He scanned the small living room. Signs of Jayla were everywhere. Her coat and scarf were tossed on the back of a chair, her boots sat by the front door, and there was an open bottle of Hawaiian Punch on the counter. Another of Jayla’s guilty pleasures. He went through the open bedroom door. Empty.
“Jay?” In three determined steps, he was staring at the empty bathroom. He spun around, and that’s when he noticed the slightly open door on the far wall and Jayla sitting on the rear steps, her arms crossed over her legs, her head resting on them. He whipped the door open. “Jayla.”
“What?” she snapped. She turned to face him with a serious scowl. Her brows were knitted together, and her lips were pressed tight. She was trembling beneath her sweatshirt and jeans.
Before he’d realized how much he loved Jayla, he wouldn’t have hesitated to sit beside her and take her in his arms, but now Rush was momentarily taken aback. He wasn’t adept at balancing feelings of love with feelings of friendship. Hell, he wasn’t adept at balancing feelings of love in any regard. Jayla was the first and only woman he’d ever fallen in love with—and he didn’t want to mess up their friendship or the chance at something more. “I…um…I heard you guys fighting and saw Marcus stomp off.”
She turned away. “So?”
“So, I was worried that something happened to you.” And why are you being such a bitch?
“Yeah? Well, I’m a big girl. I’ve been just fine for the past three weeks, haven’t I?”
The anger in her voice stung, and he guessed he deserved it. “Okay, then.” He turned to leave, but couldn’t take a single step away. Instead he joined her on the steps.
“What are you doing?” She moved over, and he could tell by her determined shift that it was not to make space for him, but to create space between them.
That stung more than her anger.
“Sitting.” He should leave. Get up and go meet Patrick, or go back to his cabin and watch a movie. He should do anything other than sit near his friend who had no idea how much he loved her. She smelled so damn good that he moved another inch away from her, to keep himself from reaching out when she clearly didn’t want him to. This earned him a narrow-eyed stare from Jayla.
“You think I’m a loser for being with him for so long.”
“I…? Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?” Rush had thought he’d experienced Jayla’s entire range of moods over the years, and he probably had. But now, with her emotions so raw and his heart aching to make her better, it all felt new. Venomous. Personal.
“And I’m supposed to be what? Impressed by that?” She looked away.
It should have been easy for him to reach for her, but while his heart drove his arm toward her, his mind hesitated, causing his reach to seem tethered and awkward. Jayla leaned away.
“Really?” He held his palms up in question.
She glared.
“What is wrong with you? I didn’t yell at you. Marcus did.”
Her jaw was set so tight he thought her teeth would crack.
“You should never have been with him in the first place. You deserve a man who will cherish you.”
She narrowed her beautiful eyes. “Like you’re a relationship expert? What do you know about cherishing women? You treat them like they’re disposable. Use, forget, replace, repeat.”
The truth of her words cut him to his core. He leaned his elbows on his knees and buried a fist in his palm. “Shit, Jayla. You’re right, and I’m sorry for who I was, but I never treated you that way, and it just about killed me today to see that look in your eyes.”<
br />
Jayla pushed to her feet and glanced down at him with a defeated look in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “Yeah? Well, don’t feel bad for me. I’m just fine.”
She walked inside the cabin, leaving him there to feel like a complete ass.
And a little like a stranger.
Which he hated more than feeling like an ass.
Chapter Four
JAYLA AWOKE WITH a roaring headache and deep, searing pain in her shoulder. She’d spent half the night worrying that Marcus would come back and the other half of the night fading in and out of sleep and thinking about Rush. It didn’t help that she’d somehow ended up sleeping on her right side. Marcus’s bags were still on the floor, which meant he’d be back at some point. She felt nauseous thinking about how angry Marcus had gotten, and the nausea was chased by self-loathing for being stupid enough to think she could ever have not been distracted by his incessant jealousy over Rush and his controlling behavior. She knew she was a fool for even going out with someone who didn’t like Rush. Rush was part of her life. He was her best friend—and I love him. She’d allowed Marcus to come between them, and she hated herself for it. As ashamed as she’d felt for ignoring his aggressiveness and the rest of the nightmare that was Marcus White for the past two weeks, she’d drawn a firm line with both him and in her own mind, and she already felt stronger, despite the headache and the pain in her shoulder.
She’d listened for Rush to leave last night, and she must have fallen asleep, because she couldn’t remember hearing a sound. Goddamn Rush. Last night she’d wanted to climb into his arms and tell him how much of an idiot she’d been not to draw the line sooner with Marcus, just like she would have done any other time. But last night, the way Rush had looked at her felt different. She’d tried to write it off as wishful thinking in her fantasy-filled mind. She’d even tried to write it off as a look of pity, but Jayla knew the difference between pity and desire, and the realization shocked her. Then embarrassed her—and then it pissed her off, because how could he risk their friendship with a look like that after she managed to resist looking at him in that way for so long? He’d never looked at her like that before, and as badly as she wanted Rush to notice her as more than his best friend, with all she was going through, this was not the time for him to start. If only she had an Off button for her girlie parts. She didn’t trust herself. It was dangerous to lean on him now and easier to be angry with him.
Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) Page 3
