Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons)

by Melissa Foster

  “Miss Baker, I understand you have issues with my instructing. I’ve worked diligently with Suzie, and I’d like to address whatever issues you have.”

  With a smile on her lips, as if she were telling Jayla how much she loved her outfit, Kelly said, “Careful now, sweetheart. You wouldn’t want the press to hear about how America’s sweetheart is really a nasty, jealous bitch who said heinous things to an innocent bystander.”

  “You wouldn’t d—”

  “Jayla.” Rush’s hand landed on her shoulder.

  She twisted from his grip, sending another shock of pain through her. “I’ve got this, Rush.”

  “Jay…”

  Her entire body went hot with anger. Her muscles flexed so tight that even turning to face him hurt.

  “Please, just go away and let me handle this.” That’s when she saw the reporter she’d noticed earlier, microphone in hand, heading directly for them with a camera already rolling. Holy crap.

  “Mom, what are you doing now?” Suzie’s voice drew her attention back to Kelly.

  Suzie. Oh God, Suzie.

  Suzie stood, red faced, with her hands on her hips between Kelly and Jayla. “What are you doing? Why do you always do this?”

  Kelly reached for her daughter, who shrugged her off.

  “First you sleep with my skating instructor, and now you pull this?” Suzie pointed to Jayla, and Jayla was struck mute and still as a statue. She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. “They’re great ski instructors. They helped me ten times more than you ever could.” Suzie stomped off toward the parking lot, leaving Kelly to chase after her and Jayla to feel like a complete ass for letting Kelly get under her skin in the first place. She obviously had bigger issues fueling her inappropriate accusations.

  In the next second, the reporter shoved a microphone too close to Jayla’s face. She pulled back, trying to feign a smile and knowing she was too confused to pull it off.

  “Jayla, are you ready to compete?” the reporter asked.

  She was reeling from the altercation, causing the camera to feel too close and the sun too bright, and she couldn’t keep her eyes from darting around in search of Rush. Definitely not her best moment.

  “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.” She focused on the camera and finally managed a smile. “The whole team is ready.”

  “How do you feel about the season coming to an end?”

  “I’m excited to spend time with family and friends and happy for the success we’ve had.”

  By the time she turned away, Rush was gone. She’d sent him away and he’d listened. Damn him. Damn her. Damn Kelly. She was messing everything up again.

  She felt her heart crumble inside her chest and realized that the injury that had chased away her sanity was nothing compared to the pain of an aching heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  WELL, THAT SUCKED. Being a boyfriend was about a million times harder than Rush had ever imagined. If he had walked into the same scene between Jayla and Kelly a month ago, he would have told Jayla she was off her rocker to think he’d let her handle a situation that had arisen only because of him. Like hell you will. That’s what he would have said instead of allowing Jayla to call the shots when her body was riddled with pain. He’d had to walk away. There was no other option. If he’d stayed, he would have spoken his mind—and Jayla would have leveled him for it.

  He walked around for thirty minutes, trying to figure out what to do and how to navigate his new role. When that didn’t help, he stopped at the convenience store in the resort and picked up a few things. Now he sat on Jayla’s porch, elbows on knees, hands fidgeting for lack of purpose, and he still had no idea what to do. The coach expected them at practice in half an hour. How the hell would Jayla manage that, given the way she was favoring her shoulder? His hands were tied, and he fricking hated it. He lifted his eyes just as Jayla came around the corner of the resort. She was looking off to the right, and there was no hiding the way her right shoulder drooped. He rose to his feet, wanting to carry her back to the cabin and take care of her, but he didn’t move.

  She lifted her eyes and caught sight of him, slowing nearly to a stop. Her mouth opened, but no words came.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  She moved toward him, and he fought the urge to reach for her hand. His pulse kicked up for the awkwardness between them. He searched her eyes for some indication of where they were headed.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I came to…” He couldn’t say, make sure you were okay. So he told her the other side of the truth. “Because I had to see you.” Rush didn’t make a conscious decision to move forward, or to take her left hand and bring it to his lips. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of thinking. His world was tilting, and all he knew was that if Jayla wasn’t on the right side of that tilt, it would kill him.

  He followed her up the porch steps and waited as she unlocked the door to her cabin. Do I follow you in? Do I wait to be invited? He wondered when he’d traded in his pants for a skirt, shook his head, and followed her inside.

  “Want a drink?” Jayla asked without looking at him.

  “No. I’m good, but let me get it.” He moved around her and she glared at him. He held his palms up. “Sorry. Forgot you didn’t need help.”

  She used her left hand to open the refrigerator door and pull out the two-liter Hawaiian Punch bottle. She wasn’t using her right arm at all. Rush shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from helping her as she struggled with the cap, and when she tried to lift the bottle with one hand to pour, he couldn’t take it anymore. Rush moved behind her. His arms encircled her body as he poured her a drink. He kissed the top of her head and remained there, close, feeling her against him.

  “I can only watch for so long before the man in me takes over.” He helped her off with her jacket, and as she drank the punch, he went down on one knee and removed her boots, then set them by the door. Jayla leaned her back against the counter, silently watching him. That’s what worried him the most. He had no idea how to read her silence.

  She looked at the clock. “Practice starts in fifteen minutes.”

  He lifted her chin and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “What are we doing? You just went through hell out there and you’re worried about practice? How about if we deal with all this stuff first?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah?” He searched her eyes and she looked away. “Well, I’m not. I respect your need to take care of things on your own, and maybe I was out of line. I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his hair to give himself a second to get his emotions in check. “Hell, I don’t even know what the hell went on out there.”

  “I was mad.”

  That was simple enough. Maybe it should have cleared it all up for some other guy, but not for Rush. “Mad. Mad? Okay. Fine, you were mad. But what the hell, Jayla? Aren’t couples supposed to show a united front and all that? I don’t know what you think I’m like, but after all these years, I was sure you knew me. I mean, really knew who I was.”

  She moved toward the living room and leaned her back against the wall.

  He moved in front of her and softened his tone. “Did you think I’d be able to watch my girlfriend go up against a manipulator like her and not say something?”

  “I don’t know what I thought. I was too mad to think.”

  She ran her fingers over his stomach, and he looked down at them, completely thrown off by her conflicting signals.

  “Okay, I’ve been there. I get it.”

  She moved her fingertips along his abs as she spoke. “Do you know what it was like watching her stalk you like prey, knowing that she’d made up that stuff about me after I tried to help her daughter? And that she was doing it all to hurt you?”

  “I do know, because I hated it, too.” He had a hard time thinking past her fingertips walking across his stomach. While she’d always had a nervous habit of touching his stomac
h like she was calculating an equation and it held all the answers, and gummy bears and movies were her go-to emotional revival tools, he also knew that holding her close and loving her, mind, body, and soul, would help her even more. He wasn’t thinking of sex, but of coming together as a couple. She needed to understand that he wasn’t minimizing her strength and abilities; he was complementing them with his own. He wanted to fill the tub again and settle in behind her this time, then hold her until her frustration dissipated and comfort and security filled those empty spots.

  She leaned in to him with a grimace. His eyes traveled to her shoulder, and he lowered his cheek to the top of her head.

  “Please take something stronger for your shoulder,” he pleaded.

  “Practice.”

  He rose to his full height again. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”

  She glared at him, and the frustration of it all came tumbling forward.

  “You can’t practice. No way. You can hate me, you can even break up with me, but if you intend to compete tomorrow, then you had damn well better give your shoulder a break tonight.”

  She pushed against his stomach and buried her face in his shirt. “You’re doing it again. I can protect myself, Rush.”

  “Excuse the hell out of me, but you’re not even using your right arm. In what fantasy world can you safely ski at fifty miles an hour in the dark?”

  She tried to step away, and he set his palms on the wall on either side of her, trapping her between. She glared up at him.

  “I’m only going to say this once, Jayla; then I’m going to walk out that door and go to practice. You can decide if you want to see me after practice or not while I’m gone and I’ll respect your decision, but this time, it’s my turn to talk and your turn to listen.”

  She blinked in perfect time to the nervous sinking in his gut.

  “I’m just fool enough to stand behind your desire to compete tomorrow—assuming you can move your arm—because I know how goddamn stubborn you are and I respect the hell out of you as an athlete. But if being your boyfriend means kowtowing to your need to take it a step further and ski tonight when you can’t even move your arm, much less use it to ski, then…” His chest squeezed; his throat thickened. He pushed past the awful feeling as he admitted the one thing that would slay him. “Then maybe I’m not the man for you, Jayla. I love you too damn much to keep my mouth shut and watch you cripple yourself for no reason.”

  Her eyes dampened, and he continued with a softer tone.

  “Tonight’s practice isn’t going to make you faster tomorrow and you know that. At best it’ll further injure you and ruin your chance to compete. At worst…hell, it’s not worth discussing. I know you, and you only want to practice to prove that you can compete tomorrow, and I don’t blame you. But I won’t support it. I can’t. Tomorrow will be hard enough.” He stood up tall and ran his hand through his hair, half expecting—hoping—she’d reach for him and tell him not to go.

  She didn’t move.

  Or make a sound.

  She was on one side of the tilt, and he was about to fall off the other. He moved to the door, hardly able to breathe. He reached for the doorknob, hesitated, and glanced back. She still hadn’t moved.

  “You have nothing to prove, babe. Not to me, not to the coach, and not to your fans. We all know you’re a star. You’re risking permanent injury to prove something to yourself, so be damn sure that it’s worth it.” He took a bag out of his coat pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I know you’re upset, and I want to give you space to think. If you want to see me, you know where I’ll be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  JAYLA COULDN’T MOVE. She’d gone completely numb with the words then maybe I’m not the man for you. Everything after that was one big blur. She was unable to push her voice from her lungs, and she was pretty sure the cabin walls were closing in around her. When Rush walked out the door, he’d taken the air from her lungs along with him. Now, as she gasped for air, the argument with Kelly came rushing back, the weight of Rush’s hand on her shoulder—which she’d give anything to feel right now—followed by the disgusted and pained look on Suzie’s face as she confronted her mother. The realization that he’d done exactly as she’d asked him to—he’d left her alone—sliced through her like a knife. The pit of her stomach burned and her body began to shake. She pressed her palms to the wall to stabilize herself, and the movement sent a shock of pain through her right side. She sank down to the floor as her legs turned to mush. Sobs rumbled from her chest. She clenched her jaw against them and was powerless to stop the desperate flood of tears that tore at all of her frayed edges.

  An hour later, Jayla was still bound and determined to compete the next day, but she knew that Rush was right about tonight’s practice. She should have admitted it to him when he’d said it, but she couldn’t. Maybe she was in denial. Hell, of course she was, but what were her options? Walk away from the competition and then find out her career was over? No, she couldn’t give up what might be her last race. She wasn’t a quitter. If she was going out, she was doing it in a blaze of glory. Injured or not, when she stood at the top of the mountain, goggles on, poised to compete, she knew the adrenaline would carry her down the slope at racing speed. She knew in her heart she could win, even with her injury. She’d spent her whole life training to compete. It’s what she did and who she was.

  She also knew that after those endorphins that pushed her through the race subsided, reality would be waiting at the finish line, and she’d have to face her injury and all of the ramifications that came with it. She could face it after the competition. She retrieved her cell phone from her coat pocket, and sadness vibrated through her when there was no message from Rush, only one from Jace, who apparently was coming into town earlier than he’d planned. In typical Jace fashion, there was no mention of exactly when she’d see him. She debated calling Rush, but she’d already proven to be a distraction to him. She couldn’t even begin to pretend that he’d be able to concentrate at practice. She’d seen the burdened, hurt look in his eyes, and she hadn’t missed the truth of his words. Was she asking him to be less of a man? Was she one of those women who pushed people away?

  No. I’m a competitor. There’s a difference, and of all people, Rush knows that.

  Then why do I hurt so badly?

  And why isn’t he here?

  Two hours later, darkness surrounded Jayla as she sat on the couch beneath a blanket. The silence of the cabin pressed in on her. She flicked on the light with a sigh and went into the bathroom to take Tylenol and Motrin, still unwilling to give in to the stronger pain meds. She missed Rush so much she could barely move. Practice was over, and he’d said to call if she wanted to see him. She wanted to—desperately—but she was still confused. She did the only thing she could think to do. She called her older sister Mia. Jennifer was her go-to person when she was on the fence, but Mia…Mia was the definition of decisive. She was a planner, and she was anything but a risk taker. She didn’t manipulate situations, like Jennifer did with her body or her cleverness, depending on what her goal was. Mia worked in the fashion industry and she approached life as she did the fashion business. She listened, researched, contemplated, and then she planned until she was sure that no thread was stretched too thin, no corners were cut. Then she moved forward. Jayla couldn’t see the forest beyond the trees. She was in too deep.

  She needed Mia.

  “Jayla?”

  The sound of her sister’s voice brought new tears.

  “Are you crying? What’s wrong? Where are you?” Mia asked.

  “I’m…”

  “Are you still in Colorado? What’s going on?”

  “Yes.” Jayla nodded, though her sister couldn’t see her. “I’m in…Colorado.”

  “Okay.” Mia breathed a sigh of relief. “Take a deep breath. Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

  Jayla clenched her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears.

  “Jay, breathe. Come on, o
ne deep breath. Is Rush there? Can I talk to him?”

  Jayla cried harder at that. Her whole family saw Jayla and Rush as a unit. A package deal during ski season. And now he was gone.

  “Did something happen to him?”

  Jayla shook her head.

  “Jayla, you know you need to tell me what’s going on or I’m calling someone there. I’m giving you three seconds, so find your voice. Please.”

  Taking control, another reason Jayla relied on her sister’s strength.

  “Okay.” Jayla wiped her eyes on her sleeve and took several deep breaths.

  “Okay? Are you okay?”

  She pictured Mia pacing her Manhattan apartment in her spike heels like they were running shoes, tucking her straight dark hair behind her ear.

  “I need your advice.” Her voice was shaky at best.

  “Whatever you need. Tell me.”

  She had no idea what she needed, only who she needed.

  “Rush. I need Rush.” Her pulse sped up, which was a good thing, because even through all of her crying, she worried that when he’d walked out the door, he’d taken that part of her with him.

  “Jay, is he getting married or something? Dating a woman who’s jealous of your friendship? I don’t get it.”

  “It’s none of those things. We…moved beyond friendship. Way beyond.”

  “Oh.” Her voice escalated. “Oh! Jayla.”

  “Don’t get too excited.”

  “I’m…a little perplexed, I guess. I mean, there was a time when I thought you two would hook up, but that was, gosh, years ago, and he’s not exactly the marrying type, you know?”

  Jayla covered her face with her hands as she sank to the couch. She forgot that although she knew Rush had changed, her family didn’t.