by Julie Hall
“Of course.” He picked up my gloved hand. “I want you to enjoy your day, and I’m only spoiling it for you.”
“No, you’re not.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Liar.”
I laughed once again. “Okay, truthfully I would like to get some good runs in before the trip’s over. If you really don’t mind.” He nodded. “Then that would be great. Thanks.”
“All right, then.” He stood and unhooked his remaining ski. “I’m just going to safely walk down and retrieve my other ski. I’ll see you later.”
His eyes never left mine. I squirmed under the attention. My friends’ silence burned the back of my neck. I watched Jonathon trudge down the hill until he was safely out of earshot before turning to them.
They all looked at me curiously.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Romona answered quickly.
Alrik spoke up. “You know, we should have listened to Logan and never—”
“Really, nothing.” Romona cut Alrik off with a glare. “Let’s go, Audrey. I’d love to see you ride without having to stop every hundred feet. I was really starting to feel for you.”
What was Alrik about to say? “It was all right. Jonathon’s a trouper. But let’s go. I’m looking forward to getting some windburn.” With that, I took off and shot down the mountain, passing Jonathon with a wave and easily beating everyone else to the chairlift, where a small crowd of other skiers and boarders were already on their way up.
As I arrived at the lift, I smiled triumphantly and wiggled in my version of a victory dance.
Big mistake.
My board slid to the side and then caught an edge. I plowed face-first into someone, taking us both down. Jeers came from the crowd around us. My face was squished into a hard chest, and my feet—still attached to my board—were tangled with someone else’s.
“You okay?”
No. Way.
I lifted my chin, and the tendril of hair hanging in my face turned bright pink.
“Audrey, are you okay?” Logan asked again.
The hair darkened to magenta. I gaped at him. “You’re not supposed to be here.” I winced at the bluntness of my words, wishing I could shove them back down my throat.
He looked away for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I know. My assignment was cut short, so I thought I’d catch the tail end of the trip. It’s been a while since I’ve been boarding.”
I was told yesterday that Logan wouldn’t join us because he’d gone to Earth.
Shock dumbed my brain.
I did nothing but stare, which was awkward for us both since I kept him trapped against the cold snow, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. His dark blond hair was tousled either on purpose or from our collision. A few day’s worth of scruff covered his face—unusual. Was it due to neglect, or on purpose?
I was still staring at the perfect proportions of his face when someone finally jolted me to my senses.
“Audrey?” Jonathon jogged up to us, then helped pull me to my feet, keeping a tight hold so I wouldn’t fall again. It’s surprisingly hard to just stand on a snowboard. That’s why boarders usually sit when we aren’t moving.
I winced. Why couldn’t he be back at the lodge already? “Caught that, did ya?”
Jonathon’s smile bloomed. “Yeah, me and about half the mountain.”
I looked over. Logan brushed the loose snow off himself. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I asked him.
He looked up as if surprised I spoke to him. “No.”
For the first time in months he looked straight into my eyes with those gorgeous cobalt eyes of his own. Their effect on me hadn’t worn off. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze because of his over six-foot height.
“Oh, ah, good.”
Awesome. Way to sound super intelligent, Audrey.
Alrik chose that moment to enter the conversation. “You know what they say, Aud, pride cometh before a fall. It never gets old. I just have to wait long enough, and you’re sure to take a spectacular spill and take out someone with you. Brings a smile to my face every time.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. He was too much like the annoying older brother I’d never asked for.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” Romona asked.
I checked myself—I wasn’t. “Just my pride.”
“Well, good.” Alrik boomed. “Now that Logan’s here, we can have some real fun.”
“Alrik,” I scolded and snuck a look at Jonathon, afraid he’d be offended.
He just rolled his eyes. “I’m going inside now.” He leaned down and gave me an innocent peck on the cheek which revealed he was only mildly annoyed. All the while Logan’s gaze seared into my back. “I’ll see you later?”
“Of course.” I forced a smile as Jonathon walked away, leaving me with the gang—and Logan. “So, I guess we should get going then.”
Kaitlin caught my eye and gestured to my hair.
Right. Sigh.
I closed my eyes to fix it, and when I opened them, everyone was getting on the lift except for Logan, who’d waited for me.
Awkward.
Alrik turned around in his chair and winked at me. I put my fingers to the bridge of my nose and pinched my eyes close.
“You sure you’re all right?” Logan inquired with a quirked brow.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going.” I unhooked a boot and dragged myself forward.
Logan and I were the only two on the chair, seated on opposite ends with a space large enough for three between us. Gusts whistled through the evergreens as we ascended the mountain. I pretended to be interested in the skiers. This was the first time we’d been alone since Logan ceased to be my mentor. I heaved a sigh. Maybe it was time to try to start to normalize things.
“Thanks for the birthday present,” I said quietly, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear. For a while he didn’t say anything, so I assumed he hadn’t.
“You’re welcome. The ocean . . .” He paused, not quite meeting my gaze. “It reminds me of you now.”
“Oh.”
“Did you enjoy your party?”
“Somewhat,” I confessed. The wind blew harshly, swinging the chair back and forth. I ventured a look at him. “You know it wasn’t really my birthday, right?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I thought that was strange, but I didn’t tell anyone else. I suppose it didn’t really matter.”
I nodded. The chair jerked to a stop and swung more violently.
“Figures,” I mumbled.
“Yeah,” he replied.
I looked at him. A moment passed, and then I burst out laughing. Some of the hysterics were from frayed nerves, but what else was there to do? After a surprised moment, he joined me. By the time we’d calmed down the chair was moving again.
I was wiping a tear from my eye when Logan spoke. “So, Jonathon’s your boyfriend, then?”
Thank goodness for safety bars. Without one I would have plummeted to the mountain floor. I mean, yeah, I guess I could see why he would think that, but I’d never thought he’d ask.
“Whoa there.” He reached forward as if to steady me but stopped short. Apparently, I looked ready to pitch out of the lift. “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”
“No,” I said.
“I didn’t catch you off guard?” His brows pulled together.
“No, I mean Jonathon’s not my boyfriend.”
His look spoke disbelief. “Does he know that?”
“Of course!” My voice echoed off the mountain. I checked myself. “I mean, we have been on some dates.” I scowled at him. “But we’re not like together together, like an official item or anything.”
He looked strangely satisfied with my answer and leaned back with his arms laid across the back of the chair and a small smile in place.
Gosh, he’s attractive. The thought slipped out without permission. How annoying.
“Good,” Logan said. “I never liked him anyway.”
Wait, hold u
p. “What? I mean, why?”
He jutted his chin out while lifting the safety bar. “We’re here.”
He dismounted.
I scrambled to follow.
Everyone waited for us.
I gawked at Logan, still trying to process that last zinger. Kaitlin looked at me pointedly and a bit smugly. Alrik clapped Logan on the back, causing him to teeter slightly on his board before righting himself.
Kevin lifted his voice. “First one to the bottom gets bragging rights.” And then he took off. I hurried to fasten my bindings and quickly followed.
The last few hours of the day were amazing. I flew, cut, and carved my way down the mountain with ease. Spending carefree time with my friends was refreshing. Logan remained in the back of my mind as well as in my peripheral vision, leading to a couple of spectacular wipeouts on my part. Alrik was always quick to laugh, Romona was quick to make sure I was unharmed, and everyone else’s reactions fell somewhere in between. I carefully planned each lift so I never rode with Logan again. Even so, it was easier to be around him than I would have expected.
I was leaning over to unlace my boots at the end of the day when I was lifted into a hug from behind. I squeaked out my surprise.
“The rest of the day dragged on without you,” Jonathon admitted.
Logan gave me a pointed stare before focusing back on removing his own gear. I wiggled out of Jonathon’s embrace. Was he being more affectionate than usual, or was Logan’s presence just making me more aware of it?
“So, babe, you work up an appetite for dinner?”
“Babe?” In fact, my appetite was getting smaller with every word and action. Multiple pairs of eyes watched our exchange.
“Yeah, I thought I’d try it on for size. Not your thing?”
“Definitely not my thing.”
Jonathon shrugged. “Oh well, I’ll find another that fits.”
“Another what?”
“Nickname.”
I shifted my feet. “Er, do you have to?”
He frowned slightly. “I guess I just like the idea of calling you something no one else does.”
“Oh, ah . . .”
So uncomfortable.
So inappropriate.
Both Kaitlin and Logan’s warnings about Jonathon’s expectations slammed into me. What had I gotten myself into? And did I want to be here or didn’t I?
Kaitlin saved the moment. “All right, peeps, I’m starved. Let’s get our dinner on.”
With our snow gear stowed and extra outerwear shed, we were ready to go. Jonathon laid a hand on my back to lead me forward, and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to let him. A few moments passed before I noticed we were missing a person. I swiveled my head but didn’t see Logan anywhere.
Kaitlin came up and matched my steps. “He’s not joining us. Said he had to get back to Earth.”
I didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. She gave me a sad smile before moving ahead to talk to Kevin.
I refused to admit I was disappointed.
If I’d known it would be several weeks before I laid eyes on Logan again, I would have admitted it—at least to myself.
5
The Defeated Warrior
I rubbed my arms. The training center hallways were unusually cold this evening. Despite it being the fastest route, I generally avoided this particular path through the center as much as possible. All these halls tended to look the same to me, but this one was different. Not in shade or shape, but in memories.
Perhaps it was the length of time I’d gone without catching a glimpse of him? Three weeks and four days, but who’s counting? Perhaps I battled with a moment of nostalgia? Maybe it was simple recklessness? Whatever the reason, today I found myself standing outside my old training gym.
Our gym, Logan’s and mine.
It was as silent as the evening was late. The facility was long since deserted. My palm lay flat on the door as if I hoped to feel something pulsating inside. I went up on my toes to silently peer through the tiny window. Just one quick look. One fraction of a moment to take it in, and then I’d go home. At least that’s what I told myself.
But someone was there.
A lone figure sat on a bench in the semidarkness, dressed fully in body armor except for the discarded helmet at his feet. His body arched forward, forearms on his knees and fingers buried deeply in his hair, supporting his head. He sat motionless. My fingers reached to touch the glass next to my face. The emotion of the scene swallowed my surprise at seeing him there. So sad, and I didn’t know why.
A gust of wind blew from behind me, swirling my hair in my face and shoving me violently forward as if I’d been pushed by a hand. My reflexes had improved, so rather than landing sprawled out over the floor as the door flew open before me, I dipped into a roll and came up to a knee. Thank goodness Hugo was teaching me parkour. Where in the world had a gust of wind come from in the middle of the training center?
Logan’s head simply tipped at the interruption. Dragging in a ragged breath of air, he forced his hands from his hair and rested his elbows on his knees before finally lifting his face.
We stayed like that. Just looking at each other.
When my eyes adjusted to the dimmed light, my heart skipped a beat. There was a growing smattering of blood beneath Logan’s left leg, a slow drip adding spots to the floor. Multiple scratches on his face, a split lip, and a swollen cheekbone became visible as well.
Shoving down a gasp, I quickly rose to my feet. His eyes tracked my movement.
“What happened?” My words were so quiet they barely floated to Logan’s ear.
The blanket of silence stretched even further—both of us statues, except Logan trickled red to the ground every few moments.
It sank in that something was really wrong, and the surrealness of the moment disappeared in urgency. I spied some towels folded neatly in the corner and ordered my feet to move. I grabbed one, wet it in the sink and returned to where he sat. The only part of Logan that moved were his eyes. They followed me.
I took a deep breath for courage and—without permission—started cleaning the scratches on his face. The dripping wound on his leg was certainly the more urgent injury, but I didn’t have the nerve to face it quite yet.
“What happened? Did something go wrong on a mission?” I asked.
Instead of an answer, he studied me closely. My cheeks heated. I used what was left of my concentration to keep my hair from changing colors. I only half-succeeded. A pale pink lock fell in my face. Placing it behind my ear, I continued to clean the dried blood from Logan’s forehead.
When that task was done I grabbed another towel and wet it under the coldest water I could get. Squeezing it out, I intended to put it on Logan’s cheek to help with the swelling. Standing in front of him, I moved my hand toward him again. Before I could make contact, one of his gloved hands snaked out and grabbed my wrist. I looked Logan in the eyes as the towel began to drip water that mixed with the blood on the floor.
“Why are you here?” he rasped.
Both his grip on my wrist and the look in his eyes were demanding. If he could rip an answer from me, I believed he would. And yet only the thin layer of his glove kept him from doing so.
“I, ah, figured everyone would be gone by now. We ran late in our training today.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as if he knew my game, then his hand abruptly released my wrist and his head rolled forward.
Alarmed, I dropped the wet towel to the floor.
For a moment I’d thought he’d lost consciousness, but to my relief, he spoke again. “Yes, but why did you come here?” Exhaustion, disappointment, and defeat all warred in his voice. He wanted the full truth without having to drag it out of me piece by piece.
“I’m not sure,” I started cautiously. “I didn’t even know I was headed here until I was standing outside. I usually take a different way around the center’s hallways now.”
He let out a humorless laugh.
“Yes, I know that already.”
What was that supposed to mean?
He continued. “So, it was a slip of the mind. Force of habit.” A statement rather than a question.
Perhaps it was. I didn’t know. But he offered me an easy way out, and I didn’t intend to waste it. “Yes, that must have been it,” I breathed out shallowly.
“Audrey, this isn’t your concern. Go back to your boyfriend.”
He said it gently and with his head still bowed, but it pierced and pinched at a buried spot inside. Logan was right. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But he was wrong too. He needed help.
Right now, he needed me.
Maybe it was my old stubbornness around him resurfacing, because his dismissal only spurred me on.
“I already told you, he’s not my boyfriend. And I’m not leaving until you hold this to your cheek and let me take a look at whatever is leaking blood all over the floor.” I picked up the fallen towel and slapped it in his right hand. It was still wet but more lukewarm than cold, now.
He leaned back into the seat, staring up at me as he stretched out his leg and allowed me to probe for the wound.
Starting from the ankle up, I gently searched for the tear in his armor, desperately hoping I would find the wound before I reached his knee. Thankfully I spied a rip on the outside area of his calf. I pulled apart the body armor as much as possible for a better look. Something was still imbedded in Logan’s leg. My stomach turned.
“I’d like to hear what you plan to do about that,” he said, laughing without humor.
“Doesn’t it need to be taken out?”
“Of course.”
“Logan, why haven’t you gone to the healing center already? This looks incredibly painful.”
“Sometimes there are more pressing things to be dealt with than physical pain.”
“But—”
With blurred speed, he captured my head with his hands, forcing my vision to fill with him and him alone. My eyes skated over the sharp planes of his face before getting snared in his cerulean gaze. He spoke more slowly this time.