by Carrie Quest
They’re sitting at the table and she’s leaning into him, talking in an urgent voice. She smiles when she sees me coming, and I force myself to smile back, even though it’s tough to do when she’s got my tray of pancakes sitting in front of her.
Ben gets up when he sees me and walks over. He raises his hand like he’s going to put it around my shoulders, but he ends up just running it through his hair and then scratching his shoulder awkwardly.
“This is Natalie,” he says.
She swallows a bite of my fucking pancake and walks over, offering me her hand. “The roommate, right? Piper’s friend? I’m Autumn.”
I shake her hand and nod, trying desperately to tap into my better angel and not hate this girl on sight. It’s not her fault she’s tall and blonde and beautiful and makes me feel like a short little mountain troll.
She slides her arm around Ben’s waist. “I know Ben from snowboarding.” She grins. “And other places.”
Yeah, she’s definitely not a massage therapist or an ass artist. They’ve slept together. Of course they have. They’re both tall, bronzed, snowboarding gods. They probably had the best sex in the history of sex. Their orgasms probably triggered avalanches.
But I could get over that. It happened before I knew him, and I have my own history in that department. What’s tough to swallow is the way she’s eating him up with her eyes, because it’s pretty clear she’s expecting to have sex with him again. Probably as soon as the door hits me in the ass.
And I’m not 100 percent sure that he’s going to tell her no. He’s looking over my shoulder, then down at the table, then watching Thor scamper along the floor chasing after a tennis balls. He’s looking everywhere but my eyes, and his face is still tight. Guilty.
“Join us,” Autumn says, gesturing toward the table. “Ben made enough for an army.”
She’s trying to be nice, I get it, but I’d rather wear clashing plaid every day for ten years then stay in this room one more second.
Ben reaches out to grab my bag, like he thinks I might actually take her up on the offer. I clutch it closer and shake my head.
“No thanks. I’ve got to meet somebody.”
She shrugs. “More for me. Nice to meet you, Natalie.”
I’m dismissed. She continues the conversation with Ben as if I’m not still standing here, glaring at him and silently daring him to meet my eyes.
“Have you got your ticket to New Zealand yet?” she asks. “We’re staying at the same place, thank god. That hot tub was so necessary.” She winks at him.
“Not yet,” Ben says. He doesn’t move to join her at the table, but he still won’t look at me.
Not yet? I run my eyes up and down his perfect legs. No brace. But he told Piper his career was over—and there’s no way he’s planning on going back. He would have said something. He probably just doesn’t want Autumn all up in his injury business, and it’s a small comfort that he hasn’t confided in her about what he’s going through.
A very small comfort, I think as she sucks down my juice.
“You’ll take me to see Adam later, right? I tried to go last night but Piper was there and she kind of kicked me out when I started talking about getting him back to training. Guess she’s taking that nursing stuff seriously, huh?”
That gets his attention. He whips his head around and goes over to the table, standing over her. “Piper was there?”
“Yeah.”
Interesting. I had a couple missed calls from her when I checked my phone this morning, but no messages. Obviously, we’re overdue for a chat. Ben glances over at me, finally meeting my eyes, and raises his eyebrows in a silent question. I shake my head. Piper visiting Adam is news to me.
“I’m actually glad she made me leave,” Autumn continues. “I wanted to talk to you first, anyway. I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to say. Or what we’re going to do,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “about, you know, the video.”
Ben flinches like she’s kicked him.
Aaaaand, that’s my cue to leave.
“You guys clearly have a lot of catching up to do,” I say. “And I’m late, so I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, Autumn.”
I ignore Ben completely and head for the door.
I’m halfway down the block when I hear him running after me. “Nat! Wait!”
He catches up and grabs my arm. “I’m really sorry about that. Her. Everything.”
He’s breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. “Please give me a chance to explain.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I pull my arm away and he lets go immediately. “I’m fine. You should get back and figure out what you’re going to do about your sex tape, or whatever it is.”
He huffs out a deep breath. “It’s not a sex tape, it’s…”
I raise my eyebrows, waiting, but he doesn’t continue.
“Right,” I say. “Whatever. This was a bad idea anyway. I’ve got my own stuff to focus on this summer, and you’ve obviously got some unfinished business with someone else.”
“It’s nothing like that,” he says. “Autumn and I, we’re not together.”
“Maybe not anymore,” I say.
“We never really were,” he says. “It’s not like…” He trails off again and looks down at his shoes.
I can’t do this. Deciphering cryptic clues and dealing with ex-girlfriend drama is not my thing. I like him, probably too much, but I’m better off ending this now and going back to my original summer plan. It will be awkward for a few weeks, and I’ll probably wear out a few vibrators, but I’ll survive.
I move around him to keep heading for the bus stop, but I only make it a few steps. When I turn around, he’s still standing there, looking down at the ground, his chest heaving up and down like he’s desperately holding something in.
“It’s not like what?” I ask.
He looks up, his eyes clear and blue and steady. “Not like it is with you,” he says.
My jaw drops, and a thousand questions run through my mind, but before I can make myself speak he turns around and walks away.
I don’t even try to stop him.
16
Ben
There’s nothing I want more than to drag Natalie back to the house and beg her to talk to me, or hell, even drop to my knees on the sidewalk and confess everything. But I can’t stay and explain, not when Autumn, the ticking human time bomb, is waiting for me at home.
I stop on the porch after leaving Nat, fighting the urge to run after her again and trying to get my shit together enough to have this conversation with Autumn. I’ve been putting this off, hoping the day would never come, but it’s been there in the back of my mind for weeks. Probably well past time to face up to whatever she’s about to tell me.
How did everything get so fucked up? One minute I’m grinding Nat against the table, about to finally get the chance to strip those cherries off her body, and the next I’m alone on my front porch, feeling like someone cracked my ribs open and stomped on my heart.
Maybe being numb was better. Maybe I should just go back inside and fuck Autumn. She’ll let me. Hell, she’s probably expecting it. Labeling our relationship friends-with-benefits is probably too strong. We’ve never been friends. We’ve been acquaintances that help each other scratch a mutual itch, both of us so focused on winning that we don’t have time for anything else. She was the female version of me: intense, driven, determined to avoid distractions. I used to think we had the perfect arrangement, but now the whole thing just makes me tired.
So fucking tired.
I give myself five minutes on the porch, and when I head back inside, Autumn’s still at the table. The pancakes are gone, and she’s slowly pulling apart the lilacs I put on Natalie’s plate, stripping the tiny buds off the stalk and dropping them in the puddle of syrup left on the plate while she talks on the phone.
I clear the rest of the table, stopping myself from grabbing the flowers away from her. Their scent, which seemed so fresh and clean when I pic
ked them this morning, is too heavy and sweet now. Spoiled.
The kitchen is a fucking disaster area, but I tackle the dishes because I need to be doing something while I wait for Autumn to get off the phone, so we can get this over with. I’ve been terrified of this moment since the accident, but now that it’s here, I’m strangely calm. Centered. My game face on. It’s like the moment before I’d drop into the pipe: all the other noise disappears and the only thing I’m aware of is the task at hand.
It’s fucked up, but in a way, I’m relieved that I can still find the control when I need it. That I can pull myself together. Wasn’t sure I had it in me anymore.
“Right. I’ll be there in half an hour.” She hangs up and brings me the last of the dishes. Her smile is huge, and she practically bounces into the little kitchen.
“That was my agent. Outside wants to talk to me about a feature, and since I’m in town, she got me into see them today!”
“That’s great,” I offer. My tone is subdued, but I am happy for her. This is a huge deal. Epic, really, but I’ve removed myself so far from snowboarding that it’s hard to really care about the publicity game.
“I know, right?” She doesn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. “My sponsors will shit themselves. It’s between me and that doofus Zeke, though why anyone would want to hold up that asshat as a role model I have no idea.”
I nod. I used to talk to my agent and my sponsors all the time, but I haven’t so much as sent them a proof of life in months. They were cool after the accident, told me to take as much time as I needed, even after the stunt I pulled with my knee. I know I need to call them, get them all in the loop about my plans, but I’ve been putting it off the way I’ve been avoiding everything else.
“Ben?” Autumn’s staring at me in a way that makes it obvious she’s been talking for a few minutes.
“Sorry.” I splash some of the water from the sink over my face. “Yeah, Zeke’s kind of a wild card but he’s a decent guy.”
She scowls. “Decent? Did you hear what I said about the prank he pulled on me last month?”
“The one with the sardines and the condoms?”
She shivers. “Gross. That was the secret Santa last year in France.”
“Right. What was it this time?”
“Forget it,” she says. “I’ve got to book and you’re clearly preoccupied. I need to be over there in, like, twenty-five minutes. Can we talk about Adam later?”
Relief blooms in me, a lightness that starts in my chest and radiates out through my body. She’s offering me a reprieve.
“Sure.”
There’s a voice in my head screaming at me that I’m a fucking coward, but I ignore it.
“Cool. I can come back tonight if you want.” If you want me is what she’s really saying. She smiles and reaches out to stroke my arm. “We can talk. Or whatever.”
I shift back, just a tiny bit, but it’s enough. Understanding dawns in her eyes and something—more like annoyance than hurt—flashes across her face before she schools her lips into the same smile that’s sold thousands of pairs of snowboarding boots across the world.
“It’s probably better if you don’t,” I say. “My life is kind of a shitstorm right now and…”
“And you like her,” Autumn says. “Natalie.”
I shake my head. “It’s not just about her. It’s…”
“Ben,” she interrupts me again, then glances down at her phone. “I’ve got five minutes. Cut the bullshit. You like her. It’s fine.”
When I don’t say anything, she laughs. “Remember the time that guy grabbed your wallet in Helsinki? You didn’t even go after him because you didn’t want to pull a muscle before your race.” She jerks her thumb toward the front door I blew through when I took off after Natalie. “I’ve never seen you move that fast except on snow. You’ve never chased anything except titles.”
She’s right, of course. I had no idea that she knew me that well. I should’ve paid more attention.
“It’s complicated,” I finally tell her.
“I would imagine so,” Autumn says with a smirk. “Sadly, I don’t have time for a heart to heart, and I probably know less than you do when it comes to relationships. Maybe you should hit up Twitter. Ask the Ben’s Babes for some advice.”
I narrow my eyes. “Didn’t you say you had to go?”
“I do.” She checks the phone again and winces. “But if I’m not coming back tonight, then we should probably do this now. Adam emailed me.”
My adrenaline spikes and I feel my heart stutter, like it’s been caught by surprise and it’s trying to catch up.
“He did?” This is news to me. I’ve seen Adam daily and he’s never mentioned getting in touch with Autumn.
“Yeah. He’s been reaching out to a few people, asking about what we remember from that day.”
“He’s never asked me,” I say quietly. I can’t blame him, though, I’ve done a pretty good job of shutting down any snowboarding talk at all, let alone anything about the accident.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to make you relive it,” she offers.
“Maybe.” Or maybe he already remembers enough to blame me.
“Piper practically stabbed me with a pudding spoon when I asked him if he’d be out in time to meet us in New Zealand for training. I had no idea your sister was so violent.”
I’m dying to ask her more because I had no clue that Pipes and Adam had connected, and I could tell by Nat’s reaction that she didn’t know anything about it either. But that’s a conversation for another time. I need to keep my focus.
“He can’t ever train again,” I say. Keeping Adam’s medical news to myself has been easy enough so far, when I’ve been avoiding everyone, but I can’t have Autumn waltzing in there and saying stuff like that to him. Not when I know that getting back out there is what he wants more than anything in the world.
“Ever?”
I shake my head. “He’s never allowed back on a board. Too risky.”
“Shit,” she breathes. Her face is stricken, and I know she gets it. She’s seen Adam in action.
“Yeah. And even talking about snowboarding gets him worked up, you know? So his parents asked me to avoid it.”
I went along of course, because I’m a selfish bastard, but there’s no need to get into that now.
“He doesn’t remember anything?”
She’s staring at me, her face still pale with shock, and it’s suddenly too much. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep it together. I don’t want to fucking talk about this ever, with anyone, but to be discussing it with Autumn now, when she’s the one person who saw what really happened, is more than I can handle.
“Hey.” She strokes my arm again, but there’s nothing sexual in it this time. All she’s offering is comfort.
I let out a strangled laugh that sounds suspiciously like a sob. Fuck.
“It’s not your fault, Ben.”
I open my eyes and stare straight at her. Time to face the demons in my mind. “Isn’t it?”
I’m expecting her to look away, to not be able to meet my eyes, but her gaze is steady and sure.
“No,” she says quietly. “It was a horrible accident. That’s all.”
I draw in a rough breath, wishing more than anything that I could believe her, but I have my own memories of that day. I know better.
“If you could keep the video to yourself, at least for now, it would really help. I’m sure his parents would appreciate it.”
I’m a total dick for adding that last part because I’m not thinking of stoic Mr. W and sweet Mrs. W now. I’m only thinking of myself.
She must know it, because Autumn’s not an idiot, but she just nods. “Sure. I’m heading up to the mountains for a few weeks anyway. I’ll hold off visiting him until I get back, okay? Give you some time.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not going to lie, though. If he straight up asks me about a video, I’m going to tell
him I have it.”
“That’s fair.” Fear is still there, curdling my stomach, but at least I can breathe again. She’s giving me time. I’ll figure something out.
“I’ve got to go.” She rises up on her tiptoes and kisses me lightly on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, Ben.”
“You too. Congrats on the article.”
She beams at me, happy again, and heads for the door. When she’s gone, I slide down the counter to the floor of the kitchen and put my head between my legs, trying to think of how I’m going to fix all these stupid and horrible things I’ve done.
I pull myself together and head to the hospital around noon, stopping to get Adam lunch. I didn’t come to any conclusions about how to fix the rest of my life, but maybe we’ll have a good visit. Maybe I’ll get at least one thing right today.
When I get to his room, Adam’s in a standoff with his physical therapist. She’s an older lady, probably about the same age as our parents, and I’ve gone with Adam to a few sessions with her. Her name’s Dawn and she’s always been chill and cheerful, but right now she’s tapping her clipboard against her scrub-covered thigh like she wants to do some damage to someone’s head.
“What’s up?” I put the bag with his burrito down on the table next to his bed and he snatches it up.
“Thank fuck,” he says, unwrapping it and ripping out a huge bite.
“Adam’s late for his therapy appointment,” Dawn says.
Adam scowls and takes another bite of food. With his shaved head, scars, and angry dark eyes, he should look like a thug. He would’ve before, Adam used to be damn intimidating when he wanted to be, but he’s lost so much muscle mass that he can’t quite pull it off anymore. He just looks like a skinny guy in pajamas. Helpless.
“It’s not therapy,” he scoffs. “It’s throwing fucking beanbags into baskets. Like that’s going to help me. Fuck it, man. I’m not going.”
Dawn sighs and the clipboard stills. A look of pity steals over her face, softening it. “I’ll give you ten minutes to eat,” she says. “Then I’ll be back, and you will be going. The only way out is through, kid.”