Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next three weeks went by in basically a blur.

With the changing colors of the leaves, something inside of me changed right along with them. Maybe it was the sheer fear I’d experienced on the Hike from Hell that had been the catalyst, or maybe it was just something in the cool air, but I felt some part of myself growing. Settling too. This place that I had come back to, where I had spent some of my best times and the single worst moment of my life, embedded itself into my skin even deeper with each passing day.

I wanted to live. It wasn’t like that was a new thought, but there was a difference between living and living, and I wanted the latter. I wanted the latter more than anything. An entire life could change in a single moment, with one action, and in a way, I had forgotten that.

Maybe every day wouldn’t be perfect and it was naïve to expect that, but every day could be good.

This place was where I wanted to be, and I found myself embracing everything even closer than before. I absorbed even more of my relationship with Clara and my friendship with customers who sure started to feel more like friends. I appreciated my teenage friends even more too.

In fact, the only thing I hadn’t embraced had been Rhodes.

It had been two weeks by that point since he’d left, and he hadn’t managed to come visit yet. Supposedly, he’d been on his way to visit for the day when he’d gotten called back to Colorado Springs—a four-hour drive away—with an emergency. I still saw Amos just about every day between getting dropped off by the school bus and picked up by his uncle. He told me all about his dad calling him every day and had even—not so subtly—mentioned how Rhodes asked about me too.

But Rhodes didn’t call me or text me, and I knew he had my number.

I thought that everything that had happened with us before had been some kind of turning point, I was sure it was, but . . . maybe he was extra busy. And I tried not to wallow in worrying about things I couldn’t control. And how someone felt about you was one of those.

I was just trying to keep on living my life and settling in even more in the meantime, and that was exactly why that morning, three weeks after the Hike from Hell, I found myself getting a dubious look from Amos as I clutched my helmet, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure?” he asked, putting on the wrist guards that I was certain Rhodes had insisted he wear when he’d given him permission to go to the ski resort with me. I had mentioned to him two days before that I wanted to go. I had never been snowboarding. I knew for sure I’d gone skiing with my mom back when I’d been younger, but that was it. It hadn’t snowed in town yet, but a couple of nights had dropped enough snow this high in the mountains to open some parts of the resort.

I focused back on the teenager in front of me in a matching green jacket and helmet he’d explained that his mom and other dad had bought him last season. “Yes, I’m sure. Go with your friends. I’m sure I can figure it out.”

He didn’t believe me, and he wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise. “Do you remember what I told you? About using your toes and heels?”

I nodded.

“Keeping your knees bent?”

I nodded again, but his features stayed reluctant. “I promise. It’s fine. Go. See? Your friends are waving at you.”

“I can go down with you once to make sure. Getting off the lift is kind of tricky—”

This was exactly why I loved this kid. He could be so quiet, stubborn, and surly—just like his dad—but he had a heart of gold too. “I just saw a little four- or five-year-old do it. It can’t be that hard.”

Amos opened his mouth, but I beat him to it again.

“Look, if it’s going really bad, I’ll text you, deal? Go with your friends. I got this.”

“K.” He looked like he wanted to keep arguing but barely stopped himself from it. Amos turned around to grab his snowboard from the rack he’d propped it on and muttered in a way that made me feel like he genuinely thought he would never see me again, “Bye.”

Well, that didn’t sound foreboding.

I snapped my helmet on, tugged my gloves on over the wrist guards I’d put on while waiting for Amos to buy his season pass, and trudged over to the lift that would lead up to the top of the bunny hill after grabbing my own rented snowboard from the rack. I’d rented it from the shop at an extremely discounted rate. I’d spent the night before looking up videos for how to snowboard, and it didn’t look that hard. I had decent balance. I’d taken a couple of surfing lessons with Yuki before, and they had gone pretty well . . . at least until the surfboard had clipped me in the face and my nose had started bleeding the last time.

I’d put up a bat house and grabbed a fucking eagle. I’d hiked up a mountain under the shittiest conditions. I could do this.

I couldn’t do this.

And that was exactly what I told Octavio, the nine-year-old little boy who had helped me up four times now.

“It’s okay,” he tried to assure me as he pulled me up to standing position again. “You only fell on your face a little bit.”

I had to hold back a snort as I brushed the snow off my jacket and pants. I liked kids so much. Especially friendly ones like this one who had come over to me on my second time down the hill and helped me after I’d eaten at least a cup of snow. I had already told his mom, who was never too far away with another little girl who she was teaching how to snowboard—and doing a better job than I was—that he was such a nice boy.

Because he really was. My own nine-year-old white knight.

“Tavio!” his mom called out.

My little friend turned to me and blinked up with pretty brown eyes. “I gotta go. Bye!”

“Bye,” I replied, watching as he made it over to her effortlessly.

Shit.

Taking a deep breath, I eyed the packed snow covering the gentle hill and sighed.

I could do this.

Bend my knees, keep my weight balanced, toes up, toes down—

I sensed the presence coming up behind me before I saw it. As it came to a stop just a couple feet away, I took in the big figure in a dark blue coat and black pants. Goggles covered half his face, a helmet covering all of his hair . . . but I knew that jaw. That mouth.

“Rhodes?” I gasped as the man lifted the goggles over his head and onto his helmet.

“Hi, Buddy,” he said with a small smile, his hands going to his hips, his gaze roaming my face.

I beamed, and my soul might have as well. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to find you and Am,” he said, like we were meeting at a restaurant instead of at the ski resort.

“Amos took one of the other lifts since they just opened it and he actually knows what he’s doing,” I told him, taking in the rough stubble covering his cheeks. He looked tired.

But happy.

I’d missed his moody butt.

“I know. I saw him already. He’s the one who told me you were down here.” His small smile lifted into a bigger one that tickled my chest. “I thought you would have taken snowboarding lessons with a pro.”

He was messing with me again. I groaned and shook my head. “I had a nine-year-old helping me. Does that count?”

His laugh was pure, surprising me even more.

Someone was in a good mood.

Or maybe he was just really happy to be home.

“It’s harder than I thought it would be, and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

“I’ll help you,” he said, not giving me a choice, not that I would have said no in the first place.

I nodded at him way too enthusiastically, so happy to see him and not bothering to hide it. He might not have called me his friend again, but we were friends. I knew that at least for sure.

Rhodes waddled over, oblivious to how he made me feel, stopping right at my shoulder. “Let me see your stance, angel face. We’ll go from there.”

It took three runs down the hill before I finally managed to make it without busting my ass more than once. From the way I pumped my fist in the air, you would have figured I’d won a gold medal, but I didn’t care.

And from the way Rhodes smiled at me, he didn’t care either.

I’d been surprised by how patient of a teacher he’d been. He’d never raised his voice or rolled his eyes, other than the one time he used his Navy Voice on a teenage boy who knocked me over. But he had laughed a couple times when I’d lost control, freaked out, and bailed, which had then resulted in me busting my ass. But he’d also been the one to tug me up to sitting, wipe my goggles off with his gloved hand, and then help me to stand.

“I need a break,” I told him, rubbing my hip with my glove. “I have to pee.”

Rhodes nodded before bending over to release his boots from the snowboard.

I bent over and did the same.

Finished, I picked up my board and followed after him. There was a small building I’d seen when we’d arrived with a sign for restrooms and concessions. Leaving our boards in one of the racks, I headed toward the bathrooms, used it, and by the time I got done, I found Rhodes sitting at one of the tables on the small deck surrounding the concession stand with two cups in front of him. Music played softly through small speakers.

But it was the woman sitting in the chair opposite of him that had me pausing.

She was pretty, about my age if not younger . . . and from the smile on her face, flirting her ass off.

Jealousy—pure-blooded jealousy—sprang out of nowhere inside of my stomach, and honestly, it surprised the shit out of me. My chest went tight. Even my throat felt a little funny. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’d ever been jealous while I’d been with Kaden. One of those times had been when he’d gone on his fake date; another time had been right after we’d split up and he’d gone on a date a month later. And the other two occasions had been when his high school girlfriend had shown up at his shows, and that was only because Mrs. Jones had liked her, I’d determined one day.

But right then, as I took in the woman talking to my landlord, that sensation came at me like a damn hurricane.

He wasn’t smiling at her. It didn’t even look like he was talking to her by the way his lips were pressed together, but . . . none of that changed anything.

I was jealous.

Aunt Carolina and Yuki would be shocked because I sure as hell was.

He wasn’t my boyfriend. We weren’t even dating. He could—

She touched his arm, and my throat muscles had to work extra hard to get me to swallow.

Holding my breath a little, I put one foot in front of the other and got myself to move toward them just as the woman smiled brighter and touched Rhodes once more. I was only a few feet away when those gray eyes I knew too well moved in my direction, and then, then, a small smile came over his mouth. And as I kept making my way over, I watched as he pulled out the chair beside him, a little at an angle and closer to his.

I could hear the woman talking in a nice, clear voice even as her gaze flicked over her shoulder to try and figure out who Rhodes was looking at. “. . . if you have time,” she said at just about the same time her smile wilted a little.

I smiled at her and carefully took the seat that he’d pulled out, my gaze going from him to her and then the steaming cup on the table.

He pushed it toward me as he said, “Thank you for the invitation, Ms. Maldonado, but I’m going to be in Colorado Springs at that time.”

I picked up the cup and brought it to my mouth, peeking at the woman as discreetly as possible. She was looking back and forth between Rhodes and me, trying to figure out . . . what? If we were together or not? “I can possibly work some things around if you have time once you get back,” she offered, apparently deciding that we weren’t. Maybe because I wasn’t shooting her eye daggers.

I couldn’t exactly blame her.

I’d be hitting on him too.

That thought alone made me feel petty. Of course women flirted with him. He was gorgeous, and his crabby little attitude just made him more attractive to some people more than likely. I was probably the only sucker who had been drawn in by how good of a dad he was.

Or maybe not.

“I appreciate the offer,” Rhodes replied in that tight voice that reminded me of what our relationship had been like months ago. “I won’t have time then either, but I’ll make sure to tell Amos you asked about him, and if you have any questions, you can call the office, and someone should be able to help you out.”

To give her credit, she wasn’t giving up even as she pushed her chair back and shot me a smile that wasn’t totally friendly or unfriendly. “If you change your mind, my number is in the school directory then.” She got to her feet. “Hopefully I’ll see you around school, Mr. Rhodes.”

I was the only one who watched her walk off, and I knew that because I felt his intense gaze on my face as I did it. It was confirmed too when I glanced back toward him and found him looking at me.

He’d shot her down. Politely, but he had.

“Hi, sneaky,” I told him, holding the cup of hot chocolate a little higher. “Sorry to interrupt you and your friend.” Did that sound sarcastic, or was I blowing it out of proportion?

“She’s not a friend, and you didn’t interrupt anything,” he replied, picking up his own cup and taking a small sip. “She was Amos’s English teacher last year.”

I nodded before taking another sip. So she’d waited to make her move. It all made sense now.

Rhodes’s eyes narrowed a little as he took another drink, the cup looking small in his hand. “I had a feeling she had been interested, but I hadn’t known for sure until today.”

I raised both my eyebrows and nodded. “She’ll probably ask you out again real subtle the next time she sees you.”

He got a funny look on his face. “I’m sure she got a clue now that I don’t feel the same way.” He leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows on the table. His gaze was steady on my face as he whispered, “She talks too much.”

I reeled back and laughed. “I talk too much! Remember when you asked me, ‘Do you always talk this much?’ You do, don’t you?”

A big smile came over his full mouth, and I swear he was more handsome than ever. “I changed my mind, and the difference is that I like hearing you talk.”

My heart skipped a damn beat or ten before he managed to keep going.

“I don’t like talking either, but you get me to somehow.”

I didn’t even try and suppress the elation that had blossomed in my chest. I was sure it was on my face too as I grinned at him, pleased. So pleased. “It’s a gift. My aunt says I’ve got a friendly face.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he argued softly.

I shrugged, still beaming from the inside out. “So . . .” I started to say, not wanting to talk about Amos’s flirty former teacher.

Those gray eyes caught and held mine, inviting my question.

“How are you? How’s Colorado Springs treating you?”

“Fine,” he said, lowering the cup to sit on top of the thigh farthest from me. “It’s keeping me busier than I was expecting. I’m glad I didn’t take the position when it became available.”

“Busier than our little stretch of the woods?”

He tilted his head to the side. “It’s more driving here, a lot more, but it’s still less. Less people. Less bullshit.”

“Any idea how much longer you’ll be there?”

“No. Nothing has been finalized yet,” he replied before taking another sip. “They told me no longer than two more weeks, but I’m not holding my breath.”

I moved my leg until it tapped against his. “I hope it goes fast, but we’re holding down the fort. Amos is doing okay, at least from what he tells me. He’s eaten dinner with me a few times when his uncle is running late, and I make sure to get him to eat some vegetables. I asked Johnny about him the other day when he picked him up, and he said he was doing fine.”

“I think he’s doing all right,” he agreed. “He doesn’t seem too heartbroken to be alone so much.”

I grinned at him, and his mouth hitched up in that familiar way I liked.

“You? You’re okay?”

We had barely seen each other in that week between the Hike from Hell and him leaving, and we hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk about what happened that night. Me almost losing it. Me sitting on his lap while he comforted me. Him stroking my back and holding me close. There were all these signs . . . all these things I picked up from him and . . . I wasn’t sure what to think about any of them. I knew a man didn’t act that way for nothing. I wanted to ask . . . but I was too much of a chicken.

But I still told him the truth. “Yeah, I’m good. Business has picked up a lot with so many hunters in town, so we’ve been busy at the shop.”

His purple-gray eyes were on me as the side of his leg nudged mine beneath the table. “And when you’re not at the shop?” Rhodes asked slowly.

Was he asking me . . . ? I kept my face neutral. “I’ve been hanging out with Clara at their house. I went horseback riding with one of my customers and his wife last week. Other than that . . .”

He took another sip, attention still totally on me.

“Hanging out at home after work with your boy. Same old. I like my quiet life.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded slowly.

“What about you?” I asked, ignoring the strange feeling in my stomach that was way too similar to the one I’d experienced coming out to see the woman talking to Rhodes. “What are you doing when you’re not working?”

The leg beside me shifted, rubbing against my own through my pants. “Sleeping. They got me a rental house that’s too quiet, but there’s a gym close by I can go to easily. I’ve gotten to see my brother and his family a couple of times. That’s about it.”

“How long are you staying today?”

“I have to leave tonight,” he said just as the music I’d been ignoring changed.

A song I recognized too well came on. I let it go in one ear and out the other, keeping my face about as even as possible. “Some time is better than no time,” I told him, feeling the strain in my cheeks before I managed to push the faint resentment away.

“But I’ve got another seven, eight hours before I have to head back.” His thigh brushed mine again, and his expression went thoughtful. “You don’t like this song? I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it.”

I should tell him. I really should. But I didn’t want to. Not yet. “I like the song, but I’m not a fan of the guy singing it."

His mouth made a funny shape, and his voice was dry as he said, “It’s only 90s pop groups you like then?”

I blinked. “What makes you say that?”

“You forget the windows are open and we hear you shouting Spice Girls lyrics.”

I dropped my voice. “How do you know it’s Spice Girls?”

Rhodes’s smile was so quick I almost missed it. “We looked up the lyrics.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and blurt out the first thing I thought of. “You know . . . I’ve kind of missed you.”

I hadn’t seen that coming. Was it the truth? Yes, but I was still surprised by how sensitive saying the words out loud made me feel.

But that sensation only lasted for about a second.

Because he hadn’t seen that coming either from the slow way his eyebrows rose in sheer surprise even as his facial features simultaneously softened. And he said quietly, looking right at me in what felt like pleased shock, “Kind of missed you too.”