“This is ridiculous. I really don’t need some thrill-seeking Olympic athlete telling me my life is boring. Of course to you it seems boring, but this is normal life. I live a normal life. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
He shook his head. “Why would I want to be normal?”
She groaned and started for the door.
“Are you afraid to try something new?”
Yes. I am. Especially something that requires athletic ability, which I do not have.
“I try new things all the time.” Just last week the grocery store was out of cookie dough ice cream and she bought chunky monkey instead. Not bad, though cookie dough was still much preferred.
“Great, then meet us down here at six.” He poured some of the creamy white paint into a tray.
“In the morning?”
“Gotta get an early start.”
“That’s not going to work for me. I’m going to be up late again.”
“Hot date?”
She gave him a yeah-right look.
“I don’t know, that Danny guy seems pretty into you.”
She ignored his comment and opened the front door.
“If you don’t show up tomorrow, I’m going to know they’re right about you.”
She turned back. “What makes you think I care?” Oh, if only she didn’t . . .
“Just a hunch.”
“You’re going to bug me about this all day, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. Thanks to their annoying agreement, she was stuck with him today, whether she liked it or not.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
He grinned. “You won’t regret it.”
“Well, that remains to be seen. Now, how about you get to work?”
She walked away, her heart pounding and her head reeling. She couldn’t go skiing with an Olympic athlete! She’d never come close to doing something so dangerous. She’d fall and make a fool of herself. She’d have to figure a way out of it.
But the insecure teenager buried somewhere inside her didn’t want anyone—especially Grady—thinking she was a boring girl who refused to take risks.
Even if she was.
So how was she going to get out of this ski trip without seeming exactly like that?
Grady couldn’t be sure, but he thought it was possible Quinn had avoided him for the better part of Friday. She set him on a variety of tasks, and he managed not to mess anything up, but she kept her distance.
Before he went home that night, he reminded her he’d meet her in the morning for their impromptu ski trip. He could see her searching for an excuse to get out of it, but she must’ve come up empty because she simply nodded and ushered him out the door.
Truth was, a part of him was nervous too. He hadn’t skied since his last competition—the one that had everyone talking. Normally he’d be up for the challenge of proving everyone wrong, but lately he felt more frustrated than inspired. Maybe he could figure out another way to stay afloat—and pay for his portion of Benji’s medical bills at the same time.
Pete had sent him the details of Spectre’s offer. Better than he’d expected, but not nearly what he was used to. Shouldn’t he be insulted they’d assume he’d take such a deal?
“It may be your only option,” Pete had said. “Think about it, Grady. What’s more important—your pride or your brother?”
Had Pete given up the idea that he could come back?
His stomach knotted at the thought. He’d know if he was done, wouldn’t he? When he heard it or read it online, it didn’t resonate with him. But nothing about the sport was coming as easily to him as it used to, and he supposed that was what bothered him the most.
He arrived at the flower shop early and found the lights on. He could see Quinn inside. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she wore a purple headband. Maybe if he taught her to ski—helped her overcome this fear she seemed to have of taking risks—he’d earn her respect.
Why he wanted it, he didn’t know. Perhaps because she hadn’t given it to him automatically.
He parked his SUV out front and walked toward the door just as another car pulled up. Jaden practically jumped out, decked out in full ski gear. His goggles were on top of his head and his coat practically swallowed him up.
“Grady, hey!” he said, as if they were old buddies. Why did he have the feeling this was a side of Jaden most people didn’t see? With Grady, Jaden was in full-on fan mode.
A young woman who sort of resembled Quinn but with darker hair got out from the driver’s side.
“You must be Grady Benson,” she said.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Carly Collins, Jaden’s mom.”
“Quinn’s sister,” he said.
Her eyebrows pulled down, but a look of amusement crossed her face. “That’s right. I didn’t think you and Quinn were that close.”
“Oh, she can’t stand me,” he said with a smile.
“Sounds about right.” Carly gave him a quick once-over. “You don’t look like you’re really dressed for skiing.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got my gear in the car.”
“See, Mom?” Jaden said. “You should’ve let me get dressed when we got there.”
“Nah, you look great,” Grady said.
“Thanks for doing this.” Carly didn’t look him in the eye. “I want you to know it means a lot.”
“Course. I’m happy to. Gets me back out on the slopes anyway.” If you could call them that. Grady knew the manufactured snow and so-called mountain were going to be borderline comical, but he supposed they were better than nothing.
He pushed the thoughts away and turned toward the flower shop door.
As he did, Quinn opened it and walked outside.
“You look like a marshmallow,” Carly said.
Grady stifled a laugh, but Carly was right. Quinn wore a bulky pair of white ski pants and a puffy white winter coat, the kind with fur in the hood.
She glared at her sister. “I had to borrow it from Lucy. It’s not like I have ski clothes in my closet.”
“You’re going with?” Carly frowned.
“Yes, and you should come too so I don’t have to suffer through this day by myself.”
“It’ll be fun, Aunt Quinn,” Jaden said. “Promise.”
“You’ll have fun watching me make a fool of myself,” she said. “I, however, plan to have no fun.”
“That’s a great plan, Q.” Carly folded her arms. “Why are you going? Did you lose a bet?”
Another glare from Quinn, this time directed at Grady. She almost looked cute with the scowl on her face and in her ridiculous getup.
“I have Hailey’s ski clothes inside, so you won’t even have to go home and dig yours out of the closet.” Quinn turned toward Carly.
“I don’t ski, Quinn. This is Jaden’s thing.”
“I don’t ski either, but here I am.”
Carly groaned. “I was supposed to work today, and then I traded shifts with someone else and I was really looking forward to being home by myself and catching up on laundry.”
“Gee, you two really know how to have a good time,” Grady said. “I’m going to Hazel’s to get some coffee. When I get back we’re leaving. All of us.”
Carly groaned again. “I don’t want to go skiing.”
“Come on, Mom, it’ll be fun. You haven’t seen me up there in months. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two. Show you that you didn’t waste your money on those lessons.”
Grady wandered across the street to Hazel’s. He told Betsy who he was ordering for and she knew their drinks, as if she had them saved in some mental database or something. She stuck the cups in a cardboard carrier and handed them across the counter.
“It’s nice to see you acclimating to our small-town life,” she said.
Grady laughed. “This isn’t acclimation,” he said. “This is just passing the time until I can get out of here.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
&
nbsp; The voice came from behind him, and while he’d only heard it a few times, he recognized it immediately. He turned and found Judge Harrison, looking a little more irritated than Grady remembered.
He gritted his teeth to keep from saying something he’d regret.
“I was hoping our way of life might rub off on you,” the judge said.
“Don’t hold your breath.” Grady picked up the drinks and nodded at Betsy, who gave him a slight smile.
“Son, maybe there’s something here for you that you haven’t even thought of yet,” the judge said as Grady turned around.
“I can tell you with absolute certainty, Judge, there is nothing here for me.” He held the man’s gaze for a moment, then slipped out the front door and into the icy Michigan air.
If the judge thought keeping him here was going to teach him some kind of lesson, he was crazy. A familiar anger flared up inside him. His dad said this happened when things didn’t go his way.
“You can’t just quit because it doesn’t come the first time,” his father had told him after one particularly frustrating run years ago. “You get so mad and you give up.”
“Because I should be able to do that in my sleep.”
“Who says? You’ve never done it before.” His dad was firm, and they’d always butted heads. Grady didn’t like to be told what to do.
“I should just know,” Grady had shouted then. He took off his goggles and his gloves and threw them on the ground as he stormed away. The jump made sense in his head—why couldn’t he land it?
His dad let him go, probably shook his head as he watched Grady storm off. So many of their practice sessions ended this way, and it wasn’t too many months later that his father found him a real coach.
“Someone you’re not related to is going to have better luck teaching you,” he’d said.
But Brian only reminded him of his father. It was like suddenly he had two dads, and he didn’t want to listen to either one of them.
Once, about a year after Benji’s accident, Grady left practice in a huff. He’d wanted to quit. The jumps weren’t coming, and Brian was insistent that he needed to change his form.
But Grady was fifteen. What did he care about sloppy or safe so long as he was fast? Benji watched his brother practice—a constant reminder of how Grady’s need for speed played out in the real world—and while he never said much, Grady knew Benji had opinions.
For months, Benji said nothing. Not This is all your fault! Not If you weren’t so reckless, I’d still be out there. And never It should be me competing—not you!
Why didn’t he just lay into him? If he did, maybe then the shame of it all would start to go away.
As it was, his brother was nothing but gracious, Grady’s biggest fan. Didn’t Benji know how hard it was to do it all without him?
When Benji finally did break his silence, Grady knew he had to listen. He owed him at least that.
“There will come a day when you will realize that everything isn’t just handed to you, Grady,” Benji had said. “And on that day, you call me. Because you’re going to need someone to work through it with.”
“Okay, Benj,” Grady had said, pretending there were no tears welling in his eyes. He’d started to walk away, but Benji grabbed his arm.
“You don’t work for anything,” Benji said. “And still you have everything you could ever want—and more. You act like it’s owed to you, like you should never have to try, like nothing about it should be hard.”
Grady had stared off in the distance, looking out across a mountain he’d just conquered.
“But one day it will be hard.” Benji squeezed his arm. “And I know a little something about that.”
Now, as Grady walked back toward the flower shop, he had to wonder if he’d finally reached the day Benji spoke of—the day it all stopped being easy.
And if he had, he had no idea what to do next.
CHAPTER
16
NOTHING ABOUT THE DRIVE TO THE SKI LODGE was what Quinn expected it to be.
Jaden didn’t stop talking the entire way. More than once, Quinn and Carly exchanged glances as if to ask, Who is this kid, and what has he done with our moody, introverted Jaden?
Grady did not give annoyed one-word answers to Jaden’s constant barrage of ski questions, as she thought he might. Oddly, the opposite happened. He almost seemed happy to have someone to talk to and carried on a lively conversation with her nephew in a way that an older brother might.
Huh. She certainly hadn’t seen that coming. So far, most of what she’d assumed about this man had been wrong. Not that it changed anything—and yet, she could practically feel her heart softening toward him.
But just a little.
Grady and Jaden’s conversation might as well have been in Chinese for as much as Quinn understood, but did it matter? It was the most alive she’d seen her nephew in years—ever since he got wise to the fact that his own father didn’t seem to care about him.
Quinn knew a little something about being abandoned by someone who was supposed to love you unconditionally. Maybe that’s why she felt extra-protective of her nephew. She hoped he wasn’t looking at Grady as a replacement for his own father. That would only lead to heartache.
Grady would leave Harbor Pointe as soon as was humanly possible. Jaden had to realize that. Should she remind him?
They arrived at the Avalanche Mountain Ski Resort and a wave of nausea rolled through Quinn’s stomach. Why had she agreed to this?
She’d never been athletic, and she had scars to prove it. In tenth grade, Sara Camp talked her into going rollerblading after school. She’d never been rollerblading, but she and her sister spent their fair share of time at the Good Times Roller Rink growing up, so how much harder could it be?
Turns out, a lot harder.
Sara was an athlete, so rollerblading and every other sport came easily to her. Quinn supposed that was why she took off down a hill like it was no big deal.
“Come on, Quinn!” she yelled over her shoulder.
In retrospect, Quinn should’ve probably gotten down on all fours and crawled to the bottom of the hill. Or maybe taken the skates off and met Sara on flat ground. Neither of those things were what she did, of course. In a rare moment of bravery, she inched over the top of the hill and started racing down.
Somewhere in the middle of the slope, she picked up speed. Seconds later, she realized she had no idea how to stop and the end of the incline would put her right in the middle of oncoming traffic. She panicked. Arms flailing, scream escaping, she practically dove to the ground, skinning not just her knee but her entire leg, her hands, and her elbow on the cement underneath her.
Most of those wounds had healed, but she still had a scar on her elbow to remind her what happened when she stepped outside her comfort zone.
Skiing felt a lot like that, and suddenly, looking at the lodge in front of her, Quinn thought perhaps a day inside by the fire was a better idea than trying her luck, even on the bunny hills.
Grady parked, and they all got out. Of course, Grady and Jaden both had skis and boots and goggles and helmets, while Quinn and Carly had borrowed coats, ski pants, and little else.
“Are those the only gloves you brought?” Grady squinted down at her.
“These are perfectly acceptable for my usual outdoor activities.” Quinn glanced down at her puffy pink gloves. Underneath, she had a thin cotton pair on. She thought that would be fine.
“Yeah, they’re not acceptable for skiing.” Grady sounded so put out, Quinn wanted to roll her eyes and walk away.
“Well, it’s not like I had a ton of time to plan for this little excursion. If you’ll remember, I didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“Oh, I remember.”
Smug. That’s how she’d describe him right now. Like a school principal who couldn’t wait to issue detentions.
“Guess I’ll have to stay inside,” she said. “I brought some work, so that’s just fine with
me.”
Grady opened his trunk and pulled out a giant bag. “I have an extra pair.”
“Of course you do.” Her sarcasm was in full effect.
He handed her a pair of big black gloves with a tag that read Bowman.
Her mind raced back to the night in her apartment when he’d confessed the truth about his sponsor. A Google search told her he’d been exclusively working with Bowman practically since the beginning of his career. Amazing how that simple memory could warm her toward him, even for a moment. Despite how it seemed, she knew even professional athletes had their share of troubles.
He slammed the hatch and slung the bag over his shoulder. When they turned, they found Jaden and Carly both staring at them.
“You two good?” Carly asked, that miserable smirk on her face.
Quinn straightened. “Fine.”
“Good; let’s go.” Jaden started off in the direction of the lodge, where the ski rental was located. Grady fell into step beside Jaden, and while Quinn was a few steps behind, she swore she heard her nephew say, “I can’t believe I’m going skiing with Grady Benson.”
“I don’t know if I’ve seen Jaden this excited since he got all the Ninja Turtle figures in fourth grade,” Carly said, coming up alongside her sister.
“It’s something, isn’t it?”
Carly groaned. “You have that look.”
“What look?”
“You get this line in your forehead when you’re worried.” Carly mirrored Quinn’s furrowed brow with one of her own, but put on an extra-grumpy expression to prove a point.
“I’m shocked by how much insight can be gained by looking at my forehead,” Quinn said.
“You’re not hard to figure out,” Carly said. “Plus, you’re worried 90 percent of the time.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I can’t believe he got you out here.” Carly shook her head. “Must have cast some kind of spell over you. I’ve never known you to do anything as crazy as downhill skiing, and I’ve known you your entire life.”
“He didn’t get me out here,” Quinn argued, but judging by the skeptical look on her sister’s face, she wasn’t fooling her. “I think he brings out the worst in me.”
Just Let Go Page 16
