Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons)
Page 17
He laughed. “Well, then, I guess I’ll win that contest.”
“There goes that ego again.”
“Someone’s gotta stroke it.” He thought of the way she looked as she came off the slope and lifted her goggles, flashing the fierce, determined look he’d come to know so well over the years. God, I love you. As their legs pressed against each other’s, he wished for the millionth time she’d see a doctor, and at the same time, that she didn’t have to.
Chapter Twenty-Five
WHILE RUSH WAS at the gym, Jayla checked her cell phone messages. She had one from her sister, Jennifer and one from her brother, Jace. Jace owned a number of motorcycle shops, and he was also, for fun, he claimed, a tattoo artist. At six five, Jace was an imposing sight with his scruffy goatee and leather jacket. To Jayla, he was her sometimes annoying, funny, and way-too-smart, eldest brother who had always looked out for her from afar. He wasn’t a hovering, in-your-face type of protector, but she knew if she ever needed him, he was there. She had absolutely no idea why he would have texted her at four in the morning.
She scrolled through the texts, and the slight movement of her thumb made her whole arm ache. Damn it. She knew she was pushing herself, maybe even past her limits, but if she could just make it through Saturday…She sighed as she read the text from Jennifer first.
Ready to spill yet?
Jayla laughed. She had to hand it to Jen. She had a knack for seeing right through her smoke and mirrors. She texted back. Rush…Me…Couple. And he’s more amazing than I thought. Chew on that. Talk later. Need to get ready for ski class.
She read the text from Jace, feeling the seconds tick away and wanting to get to her shoulder exercises.
Guess where I am? Typical Jace. His life moved a mile a minute, and his texts were as random as his tattoos. She hadn’t heard from him in weeks, and the last time they’d spoken, he was telling her about some motorcycle he was building. Jace had gone on about technical details and comparisons to other motorcycles for so long that she’d zoned out. That was Jace, a strange mix of too many facts and not enough focus.
She texted back.
Sorry so late. Was on the slopes. R u in LA?
She tossed her phone on the bed and began her shoulder exercises. Her shoulder screamed when she tried to lift her arm above midchest level. She tried a few different exercises and experienced the same deep, excruciating pain. Jayla gave up and sat on the edge of the bed and stewed over the way her body was working against her.
Her phone vibrated with a response from Jace. New Mexico. Opening new shops. Guess where I’ll be tomorrow?
She rolled her eyes and texted, Where?
She sucked in a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. “I can do this,” she said to the empty room. “I can goddamn do this.” Then I’ll go to the doc.
Her phone vibrated again with his response. Colorado. Coming to see ur race.
She smiled despite the ache in her shoulder, knowing that the one competition he’d see would probably be her worst race of the year. She texted back. Can’t wait to see u. Gotta go teach a ski workshop. Text me when ur here?
He texted back right away. Getting in right b4 ur race. Will see you after. Love you. Good luck.
She thought about mentioning her relationship with Rush to Jace. Jace knew Rush and he liked him as a person, but he also knew Rush’s history with women. Would he like him as much as his younger sister’s boyfriend? She decided the fewer issues she dealt with at the moment, the better, and texted him back, Love u too. Can’t wait to c u. Xox.
Without thinking, she pushed off the bed with her right hand. Searing pain radiated down her arm.
I’ll see the doctor right after the race.
She went into the bathroom and reached for a washcloth, cringing in pain.
The second my race is over.
BY MIDAFTERNOON JAYLA’S shoulder and arm were throbbing. She downed a few Tylenol and Motrin before her last class. Rush had gone to get something to eat before the class started, and she braced herself as Coach Cunningham approached with an assessing gaze.
“How’re you holding up?” He held her gaze.
“Great. Fine.” Other than my arm feeling like I should amputate it right this very second.
“Good. You know, backing out of one competition to prepare for the coming season wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
“I’m fine, Coach. I’m going to compete; then I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Your choice. Until I see that you cannot compete, or you or a doc tells me you can’t, you’re in.”
The pain was a constant reminder of their denial. “Thank you.” She noticed Rush heading their way.
Coach watched him approach. “I guess Rush told you about the Baker situation.”
“Baker situation?” Her stomach clenched at the thought of anything having to do with Kelly Baker.
He shifted his feet so he was facing her head-on. “He didn’t tell you?”
Her stomach sank. What could Kelly Baker have said that would have an impact on her or Rush? Despite her trust in Rush, her mind went down an old, painful, and familiar path connecting Rush and Kelly. She fought against it.
“Hey.” Rush’s eyes darted between Jayla and the coach.
“Coach Cunningham was asking me if you told me about the Bakers.” She tried not to sound accusatory or annoyed, but when his smile faded, she wasn’t sure she succeeded.
His eyes shot to the coach, then back to her. His mouth twitched.
Jayla felt like she was going to be sick.
“Coach?” Rush put a hand on Jayla’s lower back and she took a step forward, causing his hand to slide off. He shot her a confused—and too apologetic—look.
“Can…” She looked at the coach. “What’s going on?”
Coach Cunningham glanced at Rush and then shook his head.
“Jayla, remember when I told Kelly that I wasn’t interested?”
How could I forget? “Yes.” She broke out in a cold sweat.
“She complained.” He shot another look at the coach. “She complained about you.”
That wasn’t at all what she was expecting, and it was a relief—at first. “Me?” she practically yelled. “What? Why?”
“Because she’s a nutcase, and I guess she decided that she’d hurt me by hurting you.” He ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “We walked away arm in arm, remember?”
“Wha…Coach?”
Coach Cunningham shook his head. “I know.” He narrowed his eyes at Rush again. “You don’t have to worry. I know this is about Rush, and not about you.”
She stepped away from Rush.
“Jayla, it’s not like I did anything wrong.”
“No.” Coach Cunningham scrubbed his hand down his face. “For once you did the right thing where a woman was concerned. You just picked the wrong woman to scorn.” He turned his attention to Jayla with a rare, empathetic look in his eyes. “Listen, all this crap will pass. I didn’t say anything to you yesterday because you’ve got enough to worry about with your shoulder, but just in case she pulls anything else, I thought you should know.”
Anger pooled in her gut. “Thank you, Coach. So what do you want me to do? What happens now? And what could she possibly have had to complain about?” She saw the kids getting ready for class and scanned the group of parents standing off to the side for the blond bitch who had it out for her—and Rush.
“Not much. She had concerns about your skills as an instructor, which we all know is nonsense, Jayla. As for what you do from here on out?” He locked eyes with Rush. “I don’t want you anywhere near her or her daughter. Got it? God knows if this woman will try to take things to a crazier level, and with the press coming in, we need that like we need a heat wave. Jayla, you just keep doing what you’re doing. You guys are doing a great job and a really good thing by working with these kids.” He ran his eyes between them. “And if you two have gone from fr
iends to something more, then I want a promise from you both that when you’re training, you’ll goddamn focus. No fights or drama on the team, got it?”
“Got it,” they said in unison.
With a curt nod, he left them alone.
Jayla was sure there was steam coming from her ears as she and Rush put on their equipment.
“I should have told you, but we were so sidetracked last night, and with your shoulder, I figured—”
“Stop, okay. I can’t even think about it right now.” Jayla struggled getting her equipment on with her left hand. Every muscle in her body was tense, her nerves burned, and her goddamn right side from her shoulder to her ribs felt like she’d skied into a tree.
“Jayla…”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I know you didn’t tell me to protect me from stress overload. I get it, okay? But with your history with women, I don’t think there can be any secrets between us. Ever. Not to protect me, not to protect you, and not to protect us as a couple.”
“I agree, but—”
Finally having secured her equipment, she pushed to her feet. “No buts. I trust your feelings for me, and I thought you had always been honest with me about everything. Even the things I didn’t want to hear—like you having sex in the back of someone’s pickup truck while they were driving down the highway.”
He ran his hand down his face, his eyes full of sorrow and maybe even shame.
“But stuff like this makes me wonder if I only thought you had been honest with me. Maybe there’s more I don’t know, and I don’t want to think there is.”
“Jayla, there’s not. There’s nothing. You gotta know that.”
“Maybe I do, but just stop protecting me. I’m a woman, not a child, and the last thing I need is you treating me like I can’t handle something.” She skied toward the kids and paused to take a deep breath. She loved that Rush wanted to protect her, and in equal measure, she hated that he felt he had to. Driving that hate into a little bit of crazy overreaction was the pain in her arm that no one—not even Rush—could protect her from. The realization that she’d kept that pain from him, and that in doing so, she was equally as guilty, gave her a twinge of guilt.
RUSH STEWED OVER the trouble Kelly Baker had caused, and it pissed him off even more knowing that his anger was exactly what she’d wanted to achieve. Fuck with my girlfriend and make me suffer. Why did chicks do that? He’d never pine over a woman who didn’t want him. What a waste of energy. Move on already. His gaze moved to Jayla, who was watching a group of students practice standing from a fall. He realized that if Jayla ever really pushed him away, he’d not only pine like a lost child, but he’d do his damnedest to get her back. The cold shoulder she was giving him at the moment would eventually blow over, but knowing Kelly had started the trouble because of him made him madder than hell.
He managed to make it through the class without letting the stress get the better of him, and when they took the kids up the lift for a last trip down the mountain, he caught up with Jayla.
“Hey, I’m really sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
She held both poles in her left hand and watched the kids lining up along the crest of the hill. “I know you did.”
He touched her lower back on the right side and she sucked in a breath. She was definitely leaning to the left. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes darted away from his.
“Hey,” he said too harshly. She didn’t want protecting, but he couldn’t goddamn help it.
She snapped her head toward him, wincing at the movement.
“One to ten?” When she didn’t answer, he asked again. “One to ten?”
“I’m competing.” She didn’t give him time to respond. She pushed forward and skied over to the group.
Rush spent the rest of the class fighting the urge to convince Jayla she was making a huge mistake. They were nearing the end of class when he noticed a news crew standing nearby. He glanced at Jayla to try to get her attention, but as she’d been doing all afternoon, anytime he looked over, she looked away. Kelly Baker, however, spent the class moving parallel to him. When he took the kids to the lift, she walked along the path at the bottom of the slope. When they gathered for instructions, she walked over to where they were. He kept her in his peripheral vision for the sole purpose of avoiding coming into contact with her, and as Jayla was doing to him, he avoided eye contact like the plague.
Rush waved the students over, noting how much more confident they were on their skis now than they’d been at the beginning of the workshop. It pained him to see Jeffrey keeping distance between himself and the other skiers, but on the upside, Suzie had made friends with the other kids and had stopped vying for his attention. Taylor leaned in close to Meg and said something he couldn’t hear, and they both looked back at Jeffrey. Rush was not in the mood for Taylor’s antics. He was running on shoestring patience, and Taylor yanked it at every turn.
Jayla took her place beside Rush in front of the group, and he did a quick visual assessment of her. She held both ski poles in her left hand again. Her right arm was bent at the elbow and pressed to her side, and her jaw was clenched tight. She was in pain. Big, honking, unavoidable, competition-threatening pain.
Distracted and feeling like his nerves were on fire, he addressed the kids. “We’re really proud of you guys. You were courageous, you listened well, and you all came out on top, with few falls and no injuries. I’d say that’s a success and you should be proud of yourselves.” Rush glanced at Jayla, offering her a chance to speak.
True to her nature, she pulled her shoulders back—both of them—then looked over at the kids, a forced smile curling the edges of her lips.
“You guys did great. I hope you’ll continue to take more lessons and really hone your skills.” Her voice was softer than normal, her breathing shallow.
She was obviously still angry and in pain.
And I’m not allowed to help.
Rush returned his attention to the group. “Does anyone have any questions?”
“Who was the best skier?” Taylor slid a nasty look at Jeffrey.
Rush silenced the look with an icy stare. “This wasn’t a competition. You’re all equal.”
“But if you had to choose?” Taylor pushed.
“The best never have to ask,” Jeffrey said, as if he’d been asked. “Only the insecure need verbal acknowledgment.”
Rush glanced at Jayla, but the look was wasted. Her eyes were trained on Kelly Baker, standing a few feet away. If emotions could melt snow, there would be a river running between the two women, and he’d be drowning, dead center.
“Who asked you?” Taylor asked.
Jeffrey stood with his back pin straight, his poles securely in his hands. He blinked up at Taylor as if he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Isn’t that obvious by my response?”
Rush wanted to high-five Jeffrey, but Taylor’s gape-jawed look was celebration enough.
“Competition can be crippling,” Jayla said, surprising Rush. “Let’s not make this workshop about that kind of foolishness. You guys all did great, and as you progress, remember that the only competition you have is with yourself. Just have fun and ski safely.”
Rush smiled. Maybe she was rethinking the competition after all. He hoped so, because the teammate and boyfriend sides of him had merged over the last two hours, and he wanted to take her straight to the hospital to find out what the hell was going on with her shoulder.
The kids thanked them for teaching the workshop and went to the bench at the bottom of the slope to remove their skis. By the time Rush went to find Jayla, she was gone. Thankfully, Kelly Baker was no longer standing nearby. He scanned the area and spotted Kelly standing by the other parents and—oh shit—Jayla was heading directly for her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I DON’T DESERVE this. Jayla left her skis by the bench and stomped through the snow toward Kelly Baker. She’d had enough of Kelly watching Rush, following him like a pu
ppy as they taught the class and giving her nasty looks. I’ll be damned if some blond bimbo is going to spread lies about me. She hated herself for the next thought that popped into her head, but she was in tremendous pain and was battling her own demons about competing, and goddamn it, the thought was true. Maybe if Kelly Baker would concentrate on her daughter a little more and on Rush—or men in general—a little less, then Suzie wouldn’t be heading down Slut Street with no hopes of being pulled over.
She slowed her pace when she was about twenty feet from Kelly, who was frustratingly prettier up close, which pissed Jayla off even more. When she got close enough to see the red nail polish on Kelly’s fingernails and realize her snake eyes were green, not brown as she’d thought, she thought about her own reputation—the face of Dove, a role model for young girls—and stopped cold.
What am I doing?
Kelly’s high-pitched voice sent an icy chill down her back. “Yeah, Jayla might be America’s sweetheart, but what she has in looks, she lacks in teaching skills.”
Jayla breathed harder. Her hands fisted, sending a bolt of pain through her right side. She saw Suzie off to the side, talking with Taylor and Meg and shooting glances at her mother. Jayla took another step toward bold-faced-lie–telling Kelly.
Kelly flipped her hair over her shoulder and locked eyes with Jayla. “But Rush Remington?” She was speaking to another young mother, while narrowing her eyes at Jayla. “Now, that’s a man I wouldn’t kick out of bed for eating crackers. What he’s doing with…” She opened her eyes wide, feigning sudden recognition. “Oh goodness, if it isn’t Rush’s girlfriend.” She dragged her eyes down Jayla with a scowl on her lips, then turned to the other mother and said something Jayla couldn’t hear before the other woman walked away. Kelly set her eyes on Jayla, shedding her beauty like a snake sheds skin.
Jayla closed the distance between them. I probably should have thought this out better. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, distracting her from her thoughts. She pressed her palm to her pocket, against the offending sound, and focused on handling the situation she’d come to face. She couldn’t say what she wanted to. Look, ho, put your claws away before I rip them out with my teeth. No, that wouldn’t be cool at all. She thought about what Jennifer might say to a student, and in a flash, she knew how to handle Kelly.