by Piper Rayne
We’re both laughing as we walk up to the table to say our goodbyes.
We leave the restaurant and all those feelings of how I’m not worthy of her disperse when I’m buried deep inside of her and she’s calling out my name.
Chapter Twenty-One
The weather is warmer today, which means the bottom of the hill could cause some problems for the skiers. I stand at the bottom because I can't be up on top with her—her mother might push me down the hill.
“Hey, has she been up yet?” Mia comes up alongside me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“No,” I say nodding with my head at the hill. “There's still three skiers before her.”
“Hey, man.” Grady fist bumps me.
Another skier shows up on the giant screen. Not Demi, but the three of us watch her come down the course. She's fast, although I don't know everything it takes to make a great downhill skier, her time overtook the first place.
“Two more and she’s up,” Mia says, and leans back against Grady's chest. His arms come around her so that she’s firmly wrapped in his grip. Those two couldn't be more lovesick.
“We haven't missed her, right?” Skylar runs up to our group huffing and puffing, stopping next to me.
“I forgot how hard this one is to get to.” Beckett, who seems equally as exasperated as Skylar, stands alongside her.
“No. There's two more to go before her.” Mia gives the wicked witch the information she seeks.
“Hey,” Skylar elbows me and I look down at her. “I'm sorry.” With a fleeting look at Beckett, she focuses back on me. “I know we're on the same side, so…” she places her hands in the air, “backing off.”
I nod. She had some fair points. Points I haven't forgotten.
I've known for a while that Demi and me have been crossing a line—that we're more like a loving couple than fuck buddies. The notion of her being my lucky charm hasn’t been my motivation for wanting to hang out with her for a while now. But I'm still the guy who doesn't want a permanent address. I don't want to settle down and have two point five kids in the suburbs and spend my day at a desk job. Demi deserves what her mom found. To be able to go into any store and buy whatever she wants. To go on luxury vacations filled with expensive dinners with extravagant jewelry around her neck. Someone predictable and responsible and give her all the things that she needs.
“Thank you,” I say. “Is it gonna be hard to bite back your words?”
She elbows me in the ribs. Fucking hard.
“We'll just forget it happened.”
She focuses in front of her. Beckett looks at me over her head with his I'm-the-legend grin on his face for getting Skylar to apologize. Maybe he is because Skylar reminds me of myself a little and I rarely apologize for anything.
While all this is going on I miss another racer, but she doesn't make the winner’s board.
The five us stand there in silence. One more racer before Demi and my heart starts thumping in my chest.
“Where's Salty?” I ask anyone who will answer because I need to redirect my attention to anything other than the fact that Demi’s next.
“He's busy.” Grady waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Mia elbows him in the gut.
“You can't get mad, he watches us together and says nothing.”
Mia turns to me, a look of annoyance on her face. “The girl is like...so not good enough for him.”
Grady laughs, and Mia elbows him again. “You're hitting a little too low there. You do want kids one day, right?”
Like someone turned on a light switch, Mia turns around, her arms stretched to the back of his head, her eyes looking up at him lovingly. “You want some?”
Grady glances at me for a second with the biggest grin on his face. Then he fixates back on Mia. “Of course. I want to see what me and you together looks like.”
She jumps into his arms and plants her lips to his. Grady's everything I’m not. Mia would nail him here on the hill for saying he wants kids. Another checkmark in the wrong column for Demi and Dax being right for each other.
“Here she is.” Skylar hits my arm.
What is it with these women?
Demi's at the top, she circles her neck around, positions her poles and her eyes shut briefly, her head moving like she's mentally going through the course.
“You got this, girl,” I whisper to myself as I stare up at the screen.
The announcer crackles and fades, but I catch Harrison. She leaves the gate, her body bending, her skis flawlessly moving down the line.
“Great one,” Grady says.
She's under the mark at the halfway point, already beating the first-place pace.
“I have no idea how she does this. I'd close my eyes the entire way down,” Mia says, her arm now entwined in mine, her hand on my forearm.
“She loves speed,” Skylar says.
All their voices fade into background noise.
“That's it. Don't overdo it,” I say quietly.
My gut clenches as she takes a turn that looks like she could lose her footing at any moment.
“You're the best, baby. The gold is yours.”
She's coming into view on the mountain, so I shift my eyes from the television screen to her and I watch with a dry mouth and lump in my throat as she comes through the hardest area.
She lands her jump with minimal air. It's hard to process anything completely because of how damn fast she’s moving.
“That's it. She had to have done it.” My heart finally beats again as she crosses the line.
Demi carves to a stop, moving her goggles off her eyes and staring at the screen. A minute later, the time comes up and she's number one. With fifteen other skiers behind her, she knows there's a chance she could get overtaken, but my gut says she's got it.
She glances around the crowd and her eyes find me.
“Congratulations,” I mouth.
Her smile grows wider and she unclips from her skis and heads through the inflatable.
“Look who's talking to themselves now?” Mia says, a cocky grin on her face.
Ignoring her, I weave my way through all the people, grabbing my girl by the waist and swinging her around.
Carla looks on with a scowl, but whatever because her dad and grandma have smiles on their faces.
“You did it!”
She laughs. “Not yet. We'll see.”
I lower her to the ground, the spandex of her jumpsuit sliding easily down my body. “You'll be on the center podium.” I wink.
Our friends come and swallow her up with congratulations. I watch from afar, her eyes seeking me out every now and then. For the first time ever, I wish I could be one of those guys who could work twelve hours a day in an office and had an appreciation for white picket fences.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Demi ended up claiming gold last night and we all went out to celebrate, including her mom who somehow managed not to strangle me. Even after a few drinks.
I'm not sure when this friends-with-benefits thing is supposed to have run its course, but I do know I'm not ready for it to end. Which is why I’ve dragged my ass out of bed this morning, so Demi and I can figure it out.
I approach Demi's door, a pathetic pussy-whipped smile already creasing my lips.
“No, that's not Dax.” I hear Demi’s voice talking to someone and I wonder who it is because I thought Skylar said she was going to back the fuck off from us. Let us work this out ourselves. It's foreign terrain for me. The least she could’ve done is give me a fucking minute to talk to Demi about everything.
“He has no money. He doesn't do this for the love of his country. How could you actually like him?” The French accent tells me that fucking vag badger is back, front and center trying to get back into Demi’s pants. Pants he zipped firmly up himself before the Classics when he decided quantity was better than quality.
“You don't even know him.”
That’s my girl.
“I don't need to know him. His reput
ation speaks for itself. He almost hit me in that restaurant. He's a complete Neanderthal. Come on, mon amour. We were good together.”
My fists clench at my sides and I step forward, my hand inches from pushing the door farther open.
“You have no idea. Did you know that he sends most of his earnings home to help out his family, even though they want nothing to do with him unless it involves a blank check?”
The creaking of the bed is the sound I hear when my heart breaks for the first time ever.
She told him. The secret that no one knows. How could she betray me?
“Now get the fuck away from me,” she says in a disgusted voice.
I push the door open. Demi's eyes widen, and Frenchie bolts up from his seated position.
“Am I interrupting?” I rein my temper in enough to get rid of this jackass before I pummel him into the ground.
Why do I even care that she told him? This is exactly what we needed—something to keep us away from one another since we were bound to implode anyway.
“You didn’t interrupt anything. Julien was just leaving.” Demi shoots him a look and he snickers.
“I underestimated you, Campbell.” He steps forward, slowly leaving the room. “Next Classics I guess I'll get myself my own lucky charm. Screw her to improve my performance and win first place.”
He snickers and without thinking, I grab his shirt before he can flee the room and slam his back into the wall.
“Watch it,” I grind out. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins at a hundred times the rate it does when I’m at the starting gates.
“What is he talking about?” she says to me. “What are you talking about?” she asks Julien when I don’t answer.
I grip his shirt tighter, sliding him higher up the wall.
“Dax went after you because he thought you were his lucky charm. He won gold last Classics when he was fucking you and thought it might work this time around, too. I guess not since he only won silver.”
I cock my fist back and nail him in the cheekbone.
“Dax!” Demi steps forward, planting her hand on my forearm. “Go, Julien.” She points to the door.
“At least I fucking medaled, you piece of shit tenth place,” I yell out the door behind him.
“Tell me he's lying.”
I turn back around, Demi's arms are crossed, her eyes lasered in on me.
“First, we're gonna talk about you telling him all about my family shit. Out of all the people in the world, why would I ever want him to know?”
Her arms drop, her eyes morphing into that sympathetic, pitiful look I hate. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. I have a fucking fantastic life.
“I just...”
“You wanted to explain how you could like a Neanderthal like me?”
“No.” She steps forward with her hand out, but I step back, pushing my hands through my hair. “You have it wrong. I just—”
“Save it, Demi.”
I’m so angry right now and I’m not even sure I know what I’m so pissed about. Her spilling my secret? At Julien? Whatever it was between her and I ending? At myself for falling for her? All of it? None of it?
“You're not even going to listen to me?” Tears well in her eyes and I can't deny that my stomach knots and the impulse to want to make it better for her is strong.
“This was fun while it lasted anyway, right? Who cares now?” I shrug.
Her body slumps and her eyes shift into the saddest puppy dog expression. “You're ending this? Now?”
“Why do you sound surprised? You knew what this was. Our events are over.”
“I guess I thought...”
“That'd I change my mind? That I’d suddenly change my ways and say I love you or some shit like that? Well, this time that's on you. My intentions were clear from the get-go. This isn’t a damn fairy tale.”
“You were clear?” That puppy dog in her eyes turns K-9. “I don't recall you asking me to be your lucky charm.” Her fists are clenched at her sides and I think she’d like nothing more than to haul off and pop me one in the eye.
“That's not it,” I say.
“It's not? Then why the hell does Julien think that and why didn’t you tell him it’s bullshit then? What am I, some joke in the locker room? Look how Dax got Demi to buy into his antics.” A tear slips down her cheek and my own defenses slip. “He sure duped her this time.” She wipes the tear off her cheek angrily.
“That's not how it went.”
I step forward, losing any fight after seeing her like this.
Her arm flies forward, her finger pointing to the door. “Get out, Dax! You're right. Our events are over. We can move on with our lives. I'm sorry I couldn't get you to gold again this year, but hey, there's always the next Classics.”
“Don't do this, Demi. Let me explain.”
She stops and lets her arm fall to her side, and for a moment I think maybe we'll talk this out, but she lowers her head, looking at the ground. “Dax.” She picks up her head, squaring her shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes. “Do you ever want to be in a relationship?”
Here it is, the expiration stamp landing on our papers. “No. But it's not you, it's me.”
“Leave,” she says with a strangled whisper.
I'd rather have her angry. Tear at my clothes, hit me, do anything but use that soft heartbroken voice that breaks me in two.
Five minutes ago, I was on my own mission to end this and now I want nothing more to stay and make it better. I feel fucking schizophrenic.
But I'll just make it worse if I stay. Our parting was inevitable.
So, I back out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Something crashes on the back of the door and with my head down and hands in my pockets, I head to my room.
How the fuck did I end up the heartbroken one?
Chapter Twenty-Three
I stuff my shit into my suitcase, not bothering to fold any of my clothes. My phone drops to the floor from the edge of the bed. It’s been vibrating more than a dildo since the fight between Demi and me. The news must’ve dropped since Beckett's been blowing up my phone like he's dying.
Snatching my phone from the carpet, I freeze at the sight of her earring sitting there. A silver stud with diamonds wrapped around a red stone. My ass falls to the ground, wedged between Grady's bed and mine, and I pick up the only small piece of her I have left and stare at it like a lovesick fool.
It’s a symbol that shows how out of my league she is, but I had her, under my hands and I know she enjoyed it. Not just the sex but our time together—the laughing and closeness we shared. We both enjoyed it, but she was supposed to be insignificant to me.
I stand up, figuring I can have Beckett give it to Skylar once I'm long gone. Or I'll shove it under her door. Whatever, I'll go home and act the part of country boy hero and then jet to Europe or maybe a beach to blow off some steam.
The door opens and slams on the spring on the inside wall. If it weren’t for that doorstop, the doorknob would now be firmly embedded in sheetrock.
“Goddammit, what the hell is your problem?” Beckett storms in, his voice so loud a few people passing by stare in to see what the deal is.
“Nothing. What's wrong with you?”
A little deflection never hurt anyone.
“I thought for sure she was it for you. That the whole lucky charm shit would shift and you'd figure out that someone can care for you and it’s okay for you to care for someone else.”
He sits down on Grady's bed. I'm surprised Skylar's not in tow ready to rip my balls off and feed them to me.
“I don't do relationships, Hoff. You know me. I'm not meant to be locked down.”
He rolls his eyes, and I disappear into the bathroom to grab my shit from there.
“This whole macho I don't do relationships, is getting pretty old. You know that, right?”
“You can't possibly be giving me advice on this subject?” I throw my deodorant and hair gel into the bag
.
“It's different for Skylar and me. We're good as friends. She's my family.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I say.
“Fucking hell, listen to me before you make the biggest mistake of your life.”
Never in all the years I've known Beckett has his face been so red. I’ve never seen him so determined to change my mind about something. He's always the one who shrugs, says I see it differently and we move forward.
“What do you want me to do? Run down the hallways, sliding around corners in slow motion while music plays in the background? Knock on her door and fall to my knees? Tell her how much I love her and can't live without her? Sorry, brah, not me.”
He stands up. “You know what? I'm out.” Beckett rounds Grady's bed, but stops and turns around before he leaves. “When I first met you, I was instantly drawn to you. You're a fun guy who yeah, says stupid shit sometimes, but you've been there for all your friends. You're a best friend to everyone and are the glue that keeps us together. I know how families and growing up can screw with you. Trust me, I know. But Dax, you’re worthy of love. Demi sees something in you. You see something in her. Don't be stupid and destroy it out of fear that you're not enough for her or that you might get hurt or whatever the fuck else it is you’re scared of.”
He walks out of the room slowly, probably hoping that I'll stop him, confess to him that he's right.
“She deserves it all, Beckett, and I'm not that guy.”
“How do you know what she wants in life? Have you bothered to ask her?” He pauses for a second, so I can let his question sink in. “A girl who flies down an icy hill at eighty miles per hour doesn't scream housewife and PTA president to me.”
The door shuts behind him as he leaves and as much as I try to ignore them, his words resonate. He's right about two things. She's not the type. Nothing about her says she wants a cookie cutter life. She took me to her parents knowing I wasn't like them. She was never standoffish or any different with me after I confessed how messed up my family is.
And he’s right about me being scared. I’ve spent all my life avoiding heavy emotions, but I can’t run from how I feel about Demi. And when I’m scared and backed into a corner—I attack.
