by Sadie Grubor
"This shouldn't happen," he groans, covering his face with his hands. "It would be…"
With deep, calming breaths, I swallow the lump in my throat and will away the tears stinging the back of my eyes.
"A total fucking mistake," I finish for him.
I push up and scoot off the bed. Taking quick strides, I retrieve a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved tunic.
"Sid, I didn't mean—" I put my hand up as I exit the closet, stopping his excuses before he can make them.
"No excuses needed," I shrug, putting on my game face.
It's a face I've mastered over the years, since receiving my first fat and ugly girl insult when I was a child.
"Things got carried away and went too far." I shrug again. "Clearly, I'm entering the rebound zone."
"The rebound zone?" he asks tersely.
He pushes up to sit at the edge of the bed, looking ready to pounce.
"Yeah, you know, a rebound? When someone jumps right into something with another—"
"I know what a fucking rebound is," he barks, obviously irritated by my turning the situation.
Part of me revels in the fact that I'm not the only one being rejected. The other part, the one I try to be more like, feels guilty and sorry for being a bitch. No matter, my bitch side typically wins.
"Good, then we both agree. It's a good place for me to reach at this point."
Preferring to get the last word in, I take my clothes into the bathroom, shut the door, and lock it this time.
Back against the door, I breathe deeply. When I can't push down the tears, I hurry and turn on the sink. With the sound of running water filling the room, I bury my face in a towel and cry shame-filled, angry, pissed off tears.
After picking myself up off the floor, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and finger comb my hair. Glancing in the mirror, I roll my eyes. Today is going to be one of those hair days. The braid prevented terrible knots from forming, but not even my finger combing can stop it from frizzing up.
Sighing, I side part my hair and braid along my hairline down around my ear. Pinning it to the back, I repeat the motions on the other side of my head until I can secure it with a hair tie and create a low messy bun at the nape of my neck.
I change into the leggings and tunic and fold my pajamas. Taking a deep breath, I slip on my blank expression and step out of the bathroom.
My eyes are immediately drawn to Xavier. He's still on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees. His eyes rise from the floor and focus on me.
"Bathroom's free," I say, walking to my bag and dropping my pajamas into it.
"Sid," he starts.
"Let me grab some socks and I'll be out of your way."
"Damn it, don't shut me out," he yells.
I blink in his direction as I watch him rise from the bed.
"I'm not doing anything." Fighting all the emotions swirling inside me, I secure my mask of indifference.
"Bullshit," he barks, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're pissed off. I can see it."
Heat tingles across my chest. There's no fucking way he can see anything. I'm the master of bluffing.
"Honestly, Xavier," I say with an air of nonchalance, "I'm not pissed off."
I give a laugh and walk to the dresser.
"Things just got carried away. No harm, no foul, right?" I say, pulling out a pair of my warm, fuzzy socks
I turn to face him and flinch back.
Xavier stands inches from me.
How the hell does someone so large move so fast? Fucking sly Sasquatch.
His eyes move over my face, flickering between mine before closing his, and I take the opportunity to escape. As always, he's too close, too intimate, too much.
Walking to the bag with my laptop, I pick it up and make my way to the bedroom door.
"Sid, it wasn't you…I mean, it's not—"
"Jesus, Xavier, quit making it weird. It's all good," I laugh the words over my shoulder.
"You don't fool me," he states as I open the door.
Glancing back at him, I say, "I'm not trying to fool anyone."
I exit the room, close the door behind me, and lean back against it.
"I'm the fucking fool," I whisper before pushing away from the wood.
Downstairs, Sherry and Ember move about the kitchen, cooking, talking, and at one point, laughing. When I enter, they turn, looking at me. Sherry gives a smug smile before sipping from a mug.
"There's coffee," Ember offers, pointing to a silver carafe on the counter.
"Thanks." I force a smile and grab a mug.
I don't miss the furrow of Sherry's brow before I turn my attention to the coffee.
My mug in hand, I take myself to a far corner of the room. In a large, worn, brown leather chair with a side table, I set up my workstation.
I criss-cross my legs in the chair, prop my laptop on my knees, and do the most important thing: pull up the Mt. Baker ranger station information and check the weather and road clearing updates for the mountain. After taking down the number for the ranger station, I check my flight and see if I can bump it up a day earlier.
"Are you hungry?" Ember's question pulls me from my tasks.
Raising my head, I find her looking at me from the kitchen, a plate in her hands. My eyes flicker to Xavier sitting at the island. His eyes study me, intense and fucking annoying. Again, he appears without a sound. I turn my focus back to his sister and shake my head.
"No, I'm good, but thank you."
Returning my attention to my laptop, I pull up files and emails. I open an email from my lawyer with information about buying out a business partner, selling out to the partner, and a few days and times to set up a meeting with her. Then, there's the email from the bastard himself.
The subject line: Where are you?
I delete it without opening.
That's all I need. Another guy who doesn't want me trying to be in my personal business.
"We're going out on the snowmobiles," Xavier says from closer than expected.
Sneaky Sasquatch.
"Uh huh," I acknowledge without looking away from my screen.
"Come on, you can go out with us." He puts his hand on my laptop and starts to push it closed.
My hand flies out, grabbing the screen. I glare up at him and clench my teeth together.
"Oh, can I?" I grit out quietly.
"Sid…"
"I have things to work on," I snap.
"You can work on stuff later. Let's get the suit you wore—"
"Stop," I shout, drawing his family's attention. Dropping my voice, I continue. "Stop bossing me around and telling me what to do. I don't like it and I have things to work on. You may think this," I wave to my computer, "is just a small business venture, but I've got a lot going on. I came up here to work things out, not waste time with you."
The minute the words leave my mouth, guilt coils in my stomach. What I've said is harsh, mean, and totally meant to push him away. And the look on his face confirms it.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"Look, I didn't—"
"Don't worry about it," he growls, hands up in surrender. "I'll leave you alone."
His long legs carry him away with quick, angry strides. He reaches the door to the cabin, yanks the snowsuit from the hook near it, and slips it over his pants and shirt. Without looking back, he jerks the door open and slams it on his way out.
I close my laptop, put my elbows on top, and bury my face in my hands.
"Explain to me how the two of you have gone from being awfully comfortable with one another to acting like cold, angry strangers," Sherry inquires, her voice close.
I drag my hands down my face and look up, finding her standing a few feet from me.
"Sherry, I appreciate the concern," I say, not meaning it, "but I'll be out of everyone's hair tomorrow. So—"
"You're leaving tomorrow?" she asks, her voice flat. "Why the rush?"
She leans on the back of an
other chair, her arms crossed over her small waist.
"It's not a rush," I lie. "I have a flight to catch. Roundtrip tickets."
"I assumed you were leaving this weekend."
"It's not because of us, is it?" Ember asks, coming to stand next to her mother.
"No, of course not." I shake my head. "Like I said, my departure was scheduled before I even arrived."
Not a total lie. I did have a return date, but I totally pushed up to a sooner flight.
"Mom!" one of the boys shouts. "I can't find my boots."
"I'm coming," Ember yells, exiting our little gathering and going upstairs.
"Did he do something to hurt you?" Sherry's question surprises me.
I open my mouth to deny, but instead, a lump forms in my throat and I press my lips together.
Dropping her head, she sighs and rubs her arms.
"You two," she whispers and shakes her head.
"Us two what?" I choke out.
She brings her head up and her eyes lock with mine.
"I'm not sure about my son, but I'm pretty sure neither of you sees the connection you have," she says.
"No," I shake my head, "we really don't like each other much."
"You've been getting along quite well since I've been here," she counters.
"But that's because we called a truce for the week," I inform. "Obviously, the truce has gone as far as it can."
"That's crap," she snaps, flipping a hand in the air.
I open my mouth to protest, again, but she stops me.
"Yes, you two tease and taunt, but it's because of this easy, comfortable environment you have with each other. I mean, if you didn't like each other, you wouldn't spar back and forth like you do."
I furrow my brow at her. Apparently, she doesn't know arguing all the time is a big red flag for not liking each other.
"We barely know each other, aside from arguing about…well, about everything. And I'm sorry, but I don't subscribe to the 'he hit you because he likes you' bullshit."
"He hit you?" she blurts, eyes round and mouth tight.
"No, no, no," I assure, waving my hands, "I just mean the idea of a boy being mean to a girl, or vice versa, because they like each other."
I drop my hands.
She sucks her lips into her mouth and her shoulders shake. Soon, she releases her lips and starts laughing.
"Sidra, when has my son been mean to you?" she asks, amusement in her voice.
"He…" I start, but let the words die as I try to remember a moment when he was mean.
"That's what I—"
"He bosses me around," I quip, raising a brow.
"Ah, yes, I've seen some of that since we've been here," she agrees with a nod. "Do you feel it was done out of meanness or hatred?"
Damn you, Sherry Stone.
"No," I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest.
Instead of looking at her, I find a spot on the wall to focus on.
"I'm not exactly nice to him," I mumble, admitting my tendency to tease and insult.
"Oh, you put him in his place and tease him relentlessly," she laughs, "but I'm pretty sure he's quite okay with it."
"Yeah, that's healthy," I blurt.
"Sid, sometimes in life we meet people we instantly connect with. Even if you've just met them, you feel like you've known them your entire life. When you talk, things just click. When you reveal your crazy and quirks, they get it."
Memories of Xavier and me on the snowmobile, the snow fight, the fireside dinner, and getting drunk flip through my mind like a damn PowerPoint presentation. Then, his words from this morning resurface. It's definitely my kind of crazy.
"It's sort of like when you're on set with a new actor," she adds, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
"You fuck like you've been each other's lover since you lost your virginity," she continues. "It's what happened between Duncan and me. Now, we have three children, six grandchildren, and a sex life that still breaks headboards," she finishes with a nod and wink.
"Well…" I don't know whether to laugh or high-five her, "okay then."
Exhaling, Sherry walks toward me and kneels by my chair. Her hand comes up, cupping my face.
"There's sadness in you. I can see that. Xavier has it in him, too. I know why my son's sad, but I'm not sure about you." She gives a small smile. "I don't see that sadness in either of you when you are together."
Tears sting my eyes.
"It's not…" I begin to tell her how wrong she is about everything, but she sees through my shit.
It's only been a few days, but deep down, I know Xavier isn't just some guy. He isn't truly the bane of my existence, but someone who totally accepts my antics. And I appreciate that, but after this morning, it's too awkward. I need to put distance between him and I. Maybe then we can resume the friend route we got derailed from.
"Maybe we're better friends than anticipated," I whisper, "but it's nothing more than that."
I pull my face from her hand and she allows me.
"Trust me, the last thing I need is another man to deal with," I confess, clamping my mouth shut before I say more.
What is it with this family and making me talk?
"So, that's it," she murmurs, standing up. "That kind of pain lingers, Sidra."
I meet her eyes when she says my name.
"You need friends now more than ever. Don't give up and push one away."
She lifts her hand and presses it to the top of my head before walking away.
Chapter Eleven
Xavier
I step off the porch and swing my arm, punching a pile of snow stacked on the railing. The powder flies through the air like confetti. I walk through it, celebrating my stupidity.
Christ, did you think it would be that easy? Just walk up and start telling her what to do? I'm surprised she didn't punch me in the dick.
In the garage, I pull the covers off the girls' snowmobiles and run through the checks.
"What can we do to help, Uncle Xave?" Ian asks, bounding up to my side. I glance toward him, surprised I didn't hear the boys enter.
"Grab the gas cans and get them fueled up," I instruct, thumbing over my shoulder to the closet in the back.
"How are we riding?" Lyra asks, already climbing on her machine.
"Boys on one, you girls on the other," I say without room for argument.
They all must feel my frustration and anger because for once, I don't get any damn lip from them.
Fueled up and ready to go, I lead them out and into the snow.
Nate lets Ian take the first turn in the driver's seat and Cass does the same. Though, Lyra and Cass are no surprise. Both of them are smart, strong girls, but Cass has always been more at home letting Lyra run things.
I raise my arm in the air, use the forward motion hand signal, and we speed off into the woods.
After over two hours of riding and playing, we stop at one of the best tubing spots. It's flat, clear, and gets just the right amount of packed snow to pull someone on the large tube the boys brought along.
I watch Nate pull Ian and Lyra in a figure eight and their screams of laughter bring a smile to my face, but they don't take my mind from the sassy brunette back at the cabin.
Closing my eyes, I drop my chin to my chest.
I don't know why I can't get shit right with her. No matter how hard I try not to act like some controlling douchebag, I'm still pulling her along somewhere, telling her where to go and what to do, and she's totally fucking right—I cannot stay out of her personal space.
Granted, my entire family are the hugs instead of handshakes, sitting on the same side of the booth, and basically in your space kind of people. But, damn, it's impossible for me to keep any distance from her. Even now, I'm tempted to go back to the cabin and it's all because she's there.
I sigh and rub my face. My beard needs to be trimmed.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, baby." Lifting my head, I meet Cass' soft brown eyes.
&
nbsp; "Are you okay?" She shuffles her feet in the snow and bites her lip.
"Come here." I pat the spot next to me.
She complies, sitting to match me, our asses on the seat and both legs off one side.
"I'm good. Why'd you ask?"
I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my side.
"You seem mad." She shrugs. "And a bit sad."
"Nah," I lie. "I'm out with my girls. How could I be sad about that, huh?"
She shrugs again.
"You're happy with her," she says quietly.
"With who?"
"You wanna get on the tube next, Cass?" Lyra interrupts, charging through the snow and dropping to her knees in front of her sister.
She looks between her sister and me before asking, "What's wrong? Is it Mom?"
Panic fills her eyes.
"No, it's nothing," I assure her.
She visibly relaxes.
"Ly, don't you think Dad seems happier?" Cass redirects to her sister.
Lyra glances at me and holds my eyes, nodding.
"Yeah," she says, dropping her eyes to the snow. "She makes you happy, doesn't she?"
I furrow my brow and look back and forth between them, but neither of them will look at me.
"Girls, look at me," I demand.
They comply.
"What's going on?"
Cass licks her lips and opens her mouth, but Lyra's too impatient to wait for her sister.
"We know mom being sick makes you sad and us moving in with you hasn't been easy…" she hesitates, "you've been really, really stressed, and just…so sad."
"First of all, you moving in with me," I point to my chest, "doesn't make me sad or mad."
Neither of them look at me, and that won't do.
"Look at me, both of you."
Bringing their gaze back to my face, I continue shifting my eyes between them as I speak.
"Sure, we've had to get used to the change and I know leaving your school and friends has been pretty hard. All of that on top of your mom's health…yeah, it hasn't been easy, but that's only because I worry about you. You're my girls, the stars in my sky. I'm thrilled to wake up every day to you two."
Reaching out, I snag the dark purple snow coat, pull Lyra between my legs, and tighten my arm around Cass, hugging them both close to my chest.
