The season was coming to a close, and soon their conversations would move from competition and training to the latest woman Rush was dating. He’d ask about the guys she was dating—which half the time she’d made up because her life was so boring in comparison. And they’d joke about his revolving bedmates.
Same stuff, different year.
Women loved Rush. Even his name was cool. Jayla had always hoped that somewhere in the flourish of their success, he’d eventually see her the way she saw him, and he’d change his womanizing ways once and for all. For me. For us. But she’d been wrong. And she realized that even though they never stuck their two cents into each other’s dating lives, she’d sort of expected him to step in with Marcus—and it was that change in her thinking that made her worry about how she was seeing him. He was her best friend, not her sentry.
After she showered and dressed, she did a set of the shoulder rehab exercises she’d gotten from her physical therapist after her last injury; then she stood in the kitchen drinking coffee and devising a plan to rid herself of Marcus and all the weak-girl crap she’d fallen into. She’d have Marcus’s bags mailed back to him and then she’d text him and tell him not to bother coming back. A knock at the door sent a shock of worry through her.
Marcus.
She didn’t want to argue anymore. She hated arguing with anyone, and with Marcus it was a total waste of her time. She was done with him.
She set down the coffee mug and stared at the door. Shit.
Another knock drew a loud, frustrated exhalation. She threw a thermal shirt over her T-shirt and grabbed her coat, shoved her feet into her boots, and headed out the back door. If it was Marcus, she was not going to be trapped inside arguing with him. At least outside she could walk away. She heard three more loud knocks as she rounded the side of the cabin and peered onto the porch.
Rush stood in his heavy boots, one hand on his hip. He ran his hands through his hair with an adorable, slightly worried furrowing of his brow. He was too damn easy to like with his Levi’s hugging his perfect ass and at least two days’ growth on that handsome face of his. Jesus, she’d been such a bitch to him the night before, and here he was again. Typical Rush. Her crush exploded into some sort of lust and made her heart go a little crazy. She was usually so good at keeping her feelings for him contained. What is wrong with me? Rush was the one man she shouldn’t be lusting over.
Like she was right now.
She closed her eyes and fisted her hands, willing herself to stop thinking of him like that. He’s my best friend, and I love our friendship. I need our friendship. And I need a womanizing boyfriend like I need another shoulder injury. Besides, she was swearing off men. She’d thought about it all morning, and if Rush could swear off women during this competition season, she could swear off men.
Maybe forever.
She opened her eyes, and Rush was still there, standing on her porch, all hot and adorable, and—Stop it!
He lifted his hand to knock again and glanced in her direction. The left side of his mouth was doing that nervous twitchy thing.
“Hey. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any trouble last night.” He crossed the porch toward her. “I stuck around for an hour or so, but…”
Jayla took a step back. “You did? Well, aren’t you chivalrous. I’m fine.” Oh God, get out of bitch mode.
He stepped off the porch and sent her stomach fluttering.
“You sure? You look a little shaken up.”
“I’m good.”
“Okay. Want to grab some breakfast?” His thick navy parka brought out the blue in his eyes.
Stop thinking about his eyes, and stop being a nervous, crush-lusting ass.
“I’m good. Thanks.” She needed to walk away. She’d managed to keep them in a friendship box for so long, and now, after everything that happened with Marcus, the armor she relied on to keep her feelings for Rush in check must have cracked. She was vulnerable—and he was hard to resist. He came closer. Too close. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she stiffened as a pain sliced through beneath his hand.
His eyes were filled with concern. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever you went through with Marcus. If you want me to kick his ass, it’d be my pleasure.”
The smell of his minty breath coalesced with his aftershave and brought back a rush of memories: lying beneath the stars in the snow, shivering so hard their lips turned blue, both refusing to get up before the other. Holding hands as they skied without poles. Tumbling on top of him when she sneezed and made them both lose their footing. She could still feel the ache of wanting him to kiss her as if she were thrown back in time. Even then she knew that wanting more would mean risking his friendship, and Rush had always been the one person she could count on over the weeks of training. Her family supported her love of skiing, but Rush got it. He understood her drive, the passion it took to succeed, and the desire to be the best. He also understood her. When she was sad, or mad, or happy, or just plain needed to be silly. He got her better than anyone ever had. Or maybe ever would. Shit. Stop it.
She took a few steps toward the back door, felt his hand fall away—and wished he would put it back. “That’s okay. I’ve got to…Um. I’ll see you on the slopes.” She disappeared around the rear of the cabin and threw her back against the wall, breathing hard with her eyes clenched shut. What was I thinking? If she was strong enough to end things with Marcus, surely she could continue to keep her distance from Rush, as she’d managed to for so many years.
Maybe.
“What are you doing?”
Jayla froze. She opened one eye. “Um…hoping my invisibility cloak is working.”
Rush laughed and leaned in close. “I’m not sure who you are, but I miss my best friend, and I wish you’d send her back. I’m not liking this bitchy, awkward version of her as much.”
“She’s…” Mortified. “A little confused right now.”
His eyes widened a little. “About?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t return my texts when I asked.” Oh my God, I’m such a loser.
He smirked. “Mine either.” Rush leaned one hand on the wall beside her head. “Jesus, you smell good.” The surprise in his voice mirrored the surprise in Jayla’s mind.
Since when do you notice how I smell?
He narrowed his eyes and drew back, putting space between them. “If you find her, tell her to snap out of it, and tell her I have these.” He pulled a bag of gummy bears from his pocket.
Of course you do.
Chapter Five
THERE WERE A million reasons he shouldn’t have gone back to her cabin earlier that morning, but by the time he’d gotten there, he’d known he had no choice. He needed to be there. He needed to make sure Jayla was really okay. Hearing her argue with Marcus had sent a bullet through his heart, and when she’d been angry with him and left him on the back porch, it was like an arrow had chased that bullet’s path. But what he’d seen in her eyes that morning—the way she looked at him with wanting eyes, eyes he’d dreamed about for the last few months, looking up at him from beneath his naked body—he was pretty sure anger was the furthest thing from her mind. It confused the hell out of him. He’d wanted to see that look in her eyes for so long that it tore at his heart, but he knew she was in no place to hear what he so desperately wanted to reveal.
Now that Marcus was out of the picture, Rush shouldn’t have any concerns about teaching with Jayla. She was a good instructor, and she was the only woman he could spend time with day in and day out and enjoy every minute of it. But as he watched her show a teenage boy how to hold the poles properly, smiling in a way that he hadn’t seen her smile in weeks, he couldn’t think of a single other place he would rather be. That alone was reason enough for him not to be there. Jayla didn’t need his feelings confusing things as she got back on track—and he wasn’t sure he could hold them in much longer. The moon-eyed boy followed every direction she gave, and when she tilted her head to the side just a little
and touched his shoulder, he realized he was staring and tore his eyes away.
“You going to stand there, or are you going to teach?” They were the first words Jayla had said to him since they began the afternoon workshop. They were teaching a group of fifteen-year-olds and had already gone over balance, straight runs, and introduced them to the snowplow turn. The snowplow turn was also called a wedge, an elementary turn where the tips of the skis are closer than the tails. They’d practiced it until they were bored of it, and now the kids were ready for their first run down the bunny hill.
Rush hadn’t realized he’d zoned out. “Is your group ready?”
She looked at the group and smiled. “We’re more than ready.”
This brought a round of cheers from the kids.
For the next hour, Rush and Jayla spent much of their time helping the students get off their butts and back on their skis. Suzie Baker, one of the students, had big blue eyes, straight blond hair, and was dressed for a ski fashion show in pink ski pants, with a matching jacket and hat. She wore thickly applied makeup, and she’d attached herself to Rush like Velcro. He tried to get Jayla’s attention, hoping she might peel the girl from his side since Suzie had progressed from staring to licking her pouty teenage lips in a way no teenager should, but Jayla was doing everything within her power not to look at him, and it bugged the shit out of him.
He raked his eyes down the curve of Jayla’s hips, remembering when she’d been a smart, funny, lanky teenager. They’d spent so many nights talking about everything and nothing at all, and he’d come to realize that all of the time they’d spent together over the years building trust and securing their friendship had been so much more. They’d been building a foundation as solid as the mountains they skied. Jayla had grown into a beautiful, confident woman, and over the last year, Rush had finally matured enough to recognize that foundation for what it was, and he’d mentally moved Jayla from the friend zone to the lovable, cherishable woman zone. Where she stood alone, for no other woman could ever measure up.
They taught three classes, and by the end of the afternoon, the sky was sheet white and threatening snow.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Rush stood beside Jayla, watching the kids join their parents.
She kept her eyes locked on the kids. “Nope.”
“You have a knack for it.”
She pulled off her hat and shook her hair free.
He felt a rush of heat pulse through him and turned away. As he’d changed and matured over the past year and come to realize just how much he loved Jayla and how much she meant to him, his body had begun reacting sexually to her, and sometimes, even with those loving feelings stirring around inside him, it still took him by surprise. He decided to put himself through a little test. Maybe the heat was from Suzie Baker’s mom, who was checking him out, lagging behind instead of taking Suzie into the lodge. He purposely set his eyes on the tall blonde with legs that went on forever. In the past, a woman like that would have given him a jolt of competitive let’s-see-if-I-can-bang-you lust.
Nope. Not a spark.
He slid his eyes to Jayla again with her no-thank-you attitude and tight ski pants, and his body went hot. The desire that heated his blood was unmistakably driven by Jayla, and this time, it didn’t surprise him at all. Jayla wasn’t just pretty; she was sweet and caring, smart and confident without being snotty or overbearing. She cared about others more than she cared about herself, and while Rush knew that Jayla could use all of those things to hook any man she wanted, he also knew that she respected herself enough not to. Rush had learned from her in that regard. As he watched her now, Rush knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jayla was the only woman he wanted. The only woman he’d ever want.
She glanced up, and their eyes caught.
He couldn’t tear his away.
She did what he wasn’t strong enough to. “Later, gator.” She stuck her pole in the ground to push forward.
“Wait. Wanna hit the slopes for a few hours?”
“I’ve got some things to take care of.” She took off before he could respond.
In all the years he’d been competitively skiing, Rush hadn’t been in a real relationship. A quick stress-relieving romp was enough for him, and because none of the women he’d slept with had meant anything to him, it was easy for Rush to separate the bedroom thoughts from his training grounds focus. Now, with Jayla, everything was different. It shouldn’t bother him in the least that Jayla had other stuff to do.
But it did.
A lot.
He headed for the trail that wrapped around the mountain, hoping to ski the desire out of his body and the frustration from his mind.
JAYLA COULDN’T ESCAPE fast enough. It had been painful enough trying to ignore how sweet Rush had been with those kids for hours on end. He was patient and kind, and her mind had started to wander down a new and even more dangerous path. She wondered what Rush would be like as a father. Troublesome thoughts. And then there was Suzie practically throwing herself at him right there on the slopes.
Rush had that effect on nearly every female on the planet, but when Suzie’s mother eyed him like he was there for the taking, all she could envision was a mother-daughter wrestling match. Not that he’d ever touch a teenage girl, but Jayla’s mind wasn’t exactly wrapped in sanity at the moment. It was drowning in lust, and she didn’t do lust well. There was no way in hell she was going to be sucked into the sexual vortex that was Rush Remington. They were friends. She had to nip this shit in the bud before it ruined their friendship and drove her mad in the process.
She went down to her cabin to collect Marcus’s bags and bring them up to the resort to have them mailed out when she noticed the cabin door was wide open. She stopped cold. Her pulse kicked up and she looked around to see if anyone else was around. She was alone. Of course.
She debated going back to the lounge or finding Rush and asking him to go with her to the cabin, but she’d slipped into weak-girl mode with Marcus and she’d be damned if she’d ever do that again. She took a deep breath and headed for the porch. Marcus stood in the middle of the living room with his bags over his shoulder and an angry look on his face.
“I came to get my shit.” He wore the same clothes and irate scowl as the night before.
Jayla stood just inside the open door and shoved her hands in her pockets to keep him from seeing them tremble. “How’d you get in?”
He held up the key before tossing it onto the couch. He walked toward her and she stepped aside to let him pass, but he stopped beside her. It wasn’t the look in his eyes that she noticed; it was the dark energy that he exuded, so different from Rush’s positive, warm aura. What the hell did I ever see in you? It pissed her off just thinking about it. She clenched her teeth and took another step back.
“Look. I’m sorry for all the shit that happened. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I shouldn’t have grabbed your arm in the lobby. I’m just—”
“Save it, Marcus. I’m done with all of your excuses. I put the competition ahead of myself. I stayed with you way too long to avoid being distracted over a breakup while we were competing, and I’ll never do that again.” She clenched her teeth again, this time to keep them from chattering.
“Jayla—”
“Leave, Marcus.” She held her breath as he walked out the door. How could I ever have thought that you were a reasonable distraction from my feelings for Rush?
He stopped before descending the porch steps and looked back over his shoulder, a deep V between his brows. “It’s just as well. It was Rush you were after, not me.”
She breathed fast and hard, biting back the retort that vied to fly from her tongue. I have never been after Rush Remington!
Okay, maybe she hadn’t been after Rush, but clearly she had never gotten over the feelings she carried for him, and the way he looked at her made her wonder if he finally felt something, too.
An hour later, she was still a little shaken by her run-in with Marcus. S
he’d showered and just finished another round of shoulder exercises and popped a few Tylenol and Motrin—which was the equivalent of using Scotch tape to seal a gunshot wound—when she received a text from Rush.
Night ski?
She craved the comfort of her best friend. Surely, she could ignore whatever feelings had been creeping forward. Of course she could. They’d lived a lifetime without even so much as a kiss. Why was she wigging out now? She thought of Rush showing up last night and realized that maybe she was too comfortable around him. Was there such a thing? She’d never thought so, but now she worried that she might chew him out again for no reason—or jump his bones.
She chose the safe route and texted back, Tired, but thanks anyway.
An hour and a half later, there were three hard knocks on the door. She froze, then remembered that Rush had knocked the same way earlier that morning. She pulled the door open a little, peeked out, and found Rush fumbling with a stack of DVDs, microwave popcorn, and his big, stupid slippers.
“You’re supposed to be skiing,” she said.
“I did. I’ve gone three weeks without my best friend.” He pushed past her and set everything down on the counter. “Probably my fault, but you know.” He shrugged.
“Tunnel vision during competition. Yeah. I know.”
Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) Page 4
