Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons)

by Melissa Foster

  “He’s not like that. At least not with me.”

  Mia didn’t respond.

  Jayla threw herself back and winced in pain.

  “Mia, I know who he was. God, if anyone does, it’s me.” Painfully so. “But trust me, okay? He loves me, Mia, and I love him.”

  “O-kay. I’m going to try not to needle you about this, but are you one hundred percent sure that the love you both feel is true, want-to-love-and-protect-honor-and-cherish love and not I-wanna-see-how-the-sex-I’ve-been-missing-is kind of love?”

  She imagined Mia’s hazel eyes staring up at the ceiling as she asked Jayla the most painful question she could with very little emotion, because to Mia, this was a practical question, not a heart-wrenching, world-spinning, tear-my-heart-out-and-feed-me-doubt question like it was as it landed in Jayla’s ears.

  “Remember when I first told you I wanted to be a skier?” Jayla smiled at the memory. She had been seven at the time, and Mia was the wise old age of ten.

  Mia laughed. “How could I forget? You listed about twenty reasons why, including the well-thought-out reason that skiers got to have hot chocolate whenever they wanted.”

  “I do that, you know.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  Jayla was already breathing a little easier. “Well, with Rush, it’s the same thing.”

  “He lets you have hot chocolate whenever you want? Isn’t that sweet of him.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “I’m sorry. Okay, so you’re both in love. And…”

  “And I messed up. Really badly messed up.” She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes with her next admission. “And I’m not ready to fix it even though I want to.”

  “What does that mean? How did you mess up? Give me details so I know if you’re screwing yourself or Rush over, because when I hear you tell me that you messed up but you won’t fix it, the first thing that goes through my mind is…then you don’t really love him like you think you do.”

  “I knew you’d think that, and it hurts to hear you say it.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s why I called, to see if I’m being an idiot.”

  “I’m pretty sure you are, but spill it.”

  “Okay. Here goes.” Her stomach sank like she had taken a downhill ride on a roller coaster. She forced herself to tell the truth, and when she finally spoke, her words came fast. “I hurt my shoulder a few weeks ago, hid it from everyone. Now I can barely move, but I want to compete tomorrow. I wanted to practice tonight, but Rush basically gave me an ultimatum and walked out when I didn’t agree not to practice.”

  “First, your injury,” Mia began. “Where does that stand? How bad are we talking?”

  “Bad enough for Rush to say he wouldn’t sit back quietly and watch me cripple myself. But he’ll support me competing.” Because that’s the type of boyfriend he is. He loves me too much to see me take an extra risk when the benefits aren’t important. And he also loves me enough to allow me to take an equally scary risk with the competition, because he understands how a competitive athlete’s brain works.

  He’s perfect.

  I’m a fool.

  What am I doing?

  “That makes no sense at all.” Mia’s tone turned deadly serious. “If he thinks you can’t practice because it could cripple you, then why would he let you compete? Crippled, Jay? What the hell are you thinking? This is your body, and you only get one.”

  “First of all, no one lets me do anything,” Jayla said too forcefully.

  “You know what I mean. If he really loves you, he wouldn’t let you make a bad decision.”

  I forced him to step back. Her heart swelled at the reason he’d done as she asked. “He’s a competitor. He knows I have to compete. He doesn’t like that I’m doing it, but he’ll accept it.” Because he loves me. “But he also knows that practicing could—could, not definitely would—injure me so badly that I can’t compete anymore.” Fear clenched her chest again, but somehow explaining everything to Mia made her see things with Rush more clearly. What the hell was she doing? And how could she have let Rush walk out the door?

  “You’re both nuts.”

  This, she knew. Competitive athletes were all nuts when it came to competing.

  “Jay, what’s the issue? If he’s going to stand behind you to compete, just don’t practice. You said yourself it could injure you further. Why chance it? Or a better question is, why chance losing Rush over it if you love him?” Mia didn’t pause long enough for Jayla to answer. “Can we back up a minute? I have to ask you again. What the hell are you thinking? Get your shoulder looked at. Get it fixed. Do whatever needs to be done.” The escalation in her voice told her that Mia was on the move again, probably waving her hands as she paced. “You’ve already won an Olympic gold medal. Do you even know how few people can say that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what the hell? Why? This isn’t even a big competition. It’s some rinky-dink little thing.”

  “So what? Mia, the minute I think that way—that one race is more important than the next—I won’t train as hard. I won’t push myself as hard as I should.”

  “You won’t injure yourself so badly that you lose your career or push away the only man you’ve ever loved and call your sister wondering if you were being stupid or not, either.”

  She had a point. “I already figured out what I needed to do anyway. Just talking to you helped. Thank you.”

  “I didn’t give you any advice other than…Wait. Does that mean you decided not to compete and to get your shoulder looked at?”

  She heard hope in Mia’s voice and felt hope in her heart for an entirely different reason. “Nope. It means I’m going to find Rush and apologize, because he’s not only right, but he’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted more than skiing.”

  “I’m so confused. Are you going to compete?”

  “Yes.” Hell, yes.

  “Jayla, you are infuriating. I’m calling Jace. He’s going to be there. Maybe he can talk some sense into you.”

  Jayla sighed. “Whatever. Thanks, Mia, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry about me, but if I’d have called Jen, she would have focused on all the wrong things.”

  “Sex, sex, and more sex? You think? Jen?” Mia laughed.

  “Actually, she gives me really good advice, but I needed you. You never seem to get sidetracked by anything.”

  “Sure I do, but I’m glad if I helped in some way.”

  Jayla ended the call with a promise to let Mia know what the doctor said about her shoulder after the competition. She noticed the bag that Rush had thrown on the counter. She might be willing to screw up her shoulder, but there was no way in hell she was going to screw up her relationship with Rush.

  RUSH CHECKED HIS cell phone for the hundredth time, then turned back to the revolving images on his laptop. He’d seen the conviction in Jayla’s eyes. She was dead set against being told what to do, and so was he. He’d been so distracted at practice that he thought the coach was going to wring his neck, but he hadn’t said a word, and Rush had been thankful for it. He was nowhere near having his emotions in check and wouldn’t have trusted his reaction.

  He wished he could blame Jayla and her stubbornness for the way they were running head to head, but the truth was, she’d done him in—all hundred twenty pounds of her. Flattened him like road kill. It was his fault they were in this position. If he’d never kissed her, they’d still be safely immersed in the friend zone, instead of tangled up in their heartstrings.

  And he’d be sitting beside her right now, talking about how she’d kick ass in the competition tomorrow injured or not, eating those damn gummy bears.

  Rush slammed his laptop closed and tried to push thoughts of Jayla away. He needed to calm down so he could compete tomorrow, and he knew the minute he went into the bedroom, he’d think of nothing but Jayla, naked in his bed, whispering all those sexy little things into his ear. More. Yes. Please. Oh God, Rush.

  There was on
ly one thing he could do to calm this type of fervor. He grabbed a few things and headed out the cabin door.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  JAYLA STARED AT the Icy Hot and Bengay containers feeling like a complete bitch. She’d sent him away when she was confronting Kelly, and he’d gone to get her pain-relief medication? She scooped them back into the bag and eyed her coat. Forget it. His cabin was only a minute away, and a minute already seemed like fifty-nine seconds too long. She swung the door open. Realizing she didn’t have shoes on, she pushed her foot into a boot. Come on. Come on. Come on. She steadied herself against the counter as she shoved her other boot on, then flew out the door and crashed right into a wall of muscle. Rush.

  “Ow, ow, ow.” She looked up at him. It wasn’t just his chest she’d knocked into. He had a big bag of something hard in one arm and his computer tucked under the other.

  “I’m sorry. Your shoulder. Are you okay?” He stepped back and ran his eyes up and down her. “Where are you going? Where’s your coat?”

  “I’m…You’re here.”

  “Of course I’m here. You think I’m going to let you and your Raggedy Ann arm ruin this relationship? No way.”

  She had to laugh to keep from crying. She lifted up on her toes, and he met her halfway. When their lips met, it put pressure on her neck, sending pain to her shoulder.

  “Ow, ow.”

  “Sorry.” He opened the cabin door and they went inside. “Where were you going?”

  “To your cabin. To get you.” She was breathing hard, shivering with nerves and cold.

  “You could have texted.”

  “Maybe if my brain was working, but it’s been on overload. You’re here. You didn’t wait for me to ask you to come back.”

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and wrinkled his forehead, like she’d said the stupidest thing she could have ever said, and maybe—just maybe—she had.

  She looked at the medicated ointments on the counter. “You brought me stuff for my shoulder.”

  “’Cause I’m a good boyfriend.” He set the bag he was carrying down on the counter. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Sucky.” It felt good to be completely honest. Finally.

  “Did you take something?”

  “Motrin. Tylenol.” She watched him emptying the large bag. Protein powder, yogurt, frozen fruit, and a stack of clean clothes. Then he rifled through the kitchen cabinets.

  “Fine, but the minute you’re done competing, you’re taking something stronger and going to the doctor. Like it or not.”

  They were perfectly in sync on that point.

  He loaded up the blender with ingredients for a protein shake. “Want a shake?” He set his hand on the top of the blender and turned it on.

  “No, thanks. Why did you bring all that over?”

  He turned off the blender and poured the contents into a glass, offering it to Jayla before taking a sip himself.

  “Because we’re always in sync, and this stupid argument isn’t going to change that. I need my stuff in the morning, and I’m not leaving you tonight. You can try to push me away, but I’m not going to budge. I might be just your boyfriend, but I’m a man. I’m your man. And I’m not going to put what comes as second nature away because you bitch at me or because you don’t like what I say. I don’t care if we argue. I can take it. I’m going to protect you, and I’m going to love you as if we were still in the friend zone, only a billion times better.”

  “More.”

  “What?”

  “More. You’ll love me a billion times more. And better.” The thought sent a shudder through her.

  “Yes. And when you say that word, with that sexy as hell look in your eyes, it’s exactly what I want to do. But first I need to show you something.” He took off his coat and boots and then helped her to take off her boots.

  “I think it’s time for more rules.” Rush grabbed his laptop and led her into the bedroom.

  “They didn’t work so well last time.” He helped her change into her favorite pair of flannel pajama pants and one of his soft long-sleeved shirts. He drew down the comforter, and Jayla climbed in.

  “Don’t even think about making a move on me, either. I’m going nowhere near that shoulder. If you’re gonna compete, you need all the energy you can get.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You ruin all my fun.”

  He took off his shirt and jeans and climbed in beside her in his boxer briefs, lifting his arm as she snuggled against his chest. “This whole snuggle thing where you use me as your pillow? Don’t ever stop doing it.”

  She smiled and cuddled closer.

  “You need to make a decision, Jayla. I’m going to be protective of you. I’m granting you immunity from that for this last competition, but after that, I’m going back to the badass you fell in love with who’s not afraid to push you in directions you don’t want to go if I think it’ll help you. And I expect you to do the same for me, like you always have. Got it?”

  She yawned. “I’m not sure what that means, but okay.”

  “It means if I see you’re hurt, you respect my suggestions, or if you’re in a position where I feel you’re being threatened, I get to step in.”

  She ran her fingers along his forearm. “I don’t need you to protect me in situations like the one with Kelly Baker.”

  “No, you sure as hell don’t, but something in me needs to at least be nearby. I can’t promise that I won’t stand too close or say the wrong thing, but I’ll respect your ability to handle the situation. One of the things I love about you is your strength, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t react to that kind of situation, and it’s not right for you to expect me not to. You have to respect that about me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” She placed her hand on his thigh, so glad that he was there with her again. “I was all messed up today. Between my arm and that woman and learning that you had tried to protect me by not telling me what she said. I couldn’t think, much less process, how I was treating you. I’m sorry for all of it. And when you walked out earlier, it just about killed me. But I was still so overwhelmed that I couldn’t move, much less act rationally.”

  “Fair enough.” He opened his laptop and set it on his legs.

  “Home movies?”

  “Sort of. Watch.”

  Images of the two of them appeared on the screen, each one fading into the next. Most pictures were taken at arm’s length, the two of them together, making silly faces with pink, cold cheeks. In some pictures, Jayla’s eyes were sad, and in those pictures, Rush was looking at her, not at the camera, and the concern in his eyes was palpable. Seeing it warmed her from the inside out. There were pictures of Jayla wearing her flannel pajama pants and Rush’s fuzzy slippers and Jayla standing on the slopes, the sun glistening in her eyes. When the picture of her wearing Rush’s clothes from the other night appeared, it tugged at her heart. The picture of the sunrise Rush had taken on the chairlift flashed on the screen, and she took his hand in hers. She’d forgotten about some of the pictures from when they were younger, like the one they took when they were in their early twenties, standing by a bonfire. Rush held up a stick with four marshmallows on it, and Jayla was looking at him. The love in her eyes was as strong as the concern she’d seen in Rush’s just a few pictures earlier.

  “Tell me what you see.” Rush stroked her hair.

  “Us.”

  “What else?”

  “Happiness. Love.” She kissed the back of his hand.

  “Want to know what I see?”

  More than anything. She nodded.

  “Jayla Stone, a funny, caring, sometimes sad, sometimes ridiculously happy, always painfully sexy woman. I see the best friend I could ever ask for. I see a girl who likes to take walks, loves books that make her cry, and loves the way babies smell, which, by the way, I still think is weird.” He smiled. “I see a woman who rolls her eyes at anything too girly and who once nursed a ba
by bunny back to health after she found it in the woods. I see a sister who loves her siblings enough to send them socks the week before Christmas every year because she worries that they won’t buy new ones for themselves.”

  “Rush.” She was working hard to keep her tears at bay.

  “You know what I don’t see?”

  “What?”

  “Just a competitive skier.” He paused, as if letting the words sink in.

  Which they did.

  She turned toward him.

  “I know part of pushing yourself to the point of not being able to move is that you’re afraid of who you’ll be if you can’t compete.” His voice was comforting. He pointed to the screen. “This is who you’ll be. The same person. All of us have an expiration date on competing, babe. You know that. We just don’t know what it is until it shows itself with injury, failure, or age.”

  He brushed her hair from her shoulder, and the intimate touch made her long to be closer to him.

  “You may still be able to come back in a year, after you get whatever treatment you need. We won’t know until you’ve been seen by the docs. But what we do know—what I know—is that even if you can’t compete, the only thing that will change is how you spend your winters. Training until you can barely move, or enjoying life a little more and taking care of me when I can’t move.”

  “I’m not becoming your little masseuse.” She was teasing him, but she felt a sting at the thought of not competing. Just a sting. A prickle. She was surprised to realize that thinking about not competing no longer felt like Freddy Krueger was banging at the back door.

  Rush touched her cheek and kissed her lips softly, lingering as only a lover would. “You’re too big a part of my life to be my little anything. You’re my everything.”

  Chapter Thirty

  JAYLA WOKE UP the next morning to the sound of the cabin door closing and Rush talking, his footsteps crossing the hardwood floor. The digital clock read six forty-five. He let me sleep in.

  “Jayla will be so excited to see you,” Rush said as he passed the slightly ajar bedroom door. She listened, trying to figure out who he was on the phone with.