No. Way. My stomach clenches.
“He said his name was Jason Garrison.”
My heart tries to pound its way out of my chest as I ask, “Really? Is he going to work here next winter?” That anxiety attack is back, and I don’t think it’s so mini anymore.
“If he wants the job. He’s one fine skier.”
Oh no. I play it cool. “He’ll be a good instructor. Nice guy.” Oh, man, that could make things weird next winter if I’m still with Blaine.
“He just left if you want to catch up to him,” says Matt. “I think he said he was headed to the bowls. He’s wearing an orange jacket.”
Ohmigod. I want to run. “Thanks!” I rush out the door. Orange jacket. Bowls. The T-bar is the best way to get there. With any luck, the line will be long. I slam my boots into my skis and take off like a shot, and my jacket flaps in the wind. I have to skate over to the T-bar and am grateful I’ve been running. My thighs explode with power and propel me, as I’m prepared to plow over anyone and anything in my way. My helmet strap bangs methodically against the fiberglass, but there’s no time to connect it now. My chest is heaving as I try to breathe, when I reach the lift and spot someone in orange getting on. I can’t see his face, but the helmet looks familiar. Jason. I yell, “Single!” and move right to the front.
I’m only a few T-bars behind him. Good. This is good. I know his routine. He buckles his boots tighter after having loosened them for a lift ride, and that might give me time to catch him. I pat my jacket for lipstick. Darn, I wish I had a mirror. I pull a curl out of my helmet, just in case he wants to tuck it back in. I fan myself by pulling my fleece away from my body in a flapping motion and am glad when my deodorant is the scent that wafts up my nose. Once I’ve caught my breath, I begin to jiggle my leg. Oh please, oh please, oh please, let me catch him. I’m a nervous ball of energy as it hits me. Text. Of course. I’m an idiot.
I pull out my phone and text him. “Hey, stranger. I heard you’re in Breck. True?”
Now I tap my phone with a fingernail. The guy I’m riding with must think I’m a total nutcase. C’mon, Jason, text back. I say, “I’m trying to find a friend.”
“True. Getting off T-bar.”
I squeal. Yup, the guy next to me looks like he wonders if it’s worth ditching me halfway up the trail. I text back, “Don’t move. On T-bar.”
“Frozen.”
Relief floods my body, and I say to the guy next to me, “I found him.”
He frowns at me and says, “Good for you.”
Clearly this guy doesn’t get it. It’s Jason. When I make it to the top of the lift, I spy Jason right away, but I try to look cool, as if I haven’t.
“Casey!”
A smile spreads across my face as I turn to him. I resist the urge to jump into his arms and calmly say, “Jason.” I ski over to him and wrap my arms as far around him as I can.
He lifts me up off the ground, and his arms feel so good around me I wish he’d never let go as he says, “It’s so good to see you.”
“Same.” His scent makes my body heat up and defy me. When he sets me back down my lips ache to kiss him. Control your raging hormones, Casey. “Where are you headed?”
He says, “The bowl. Are you skiing alone?”
“I am. Follow me; you’re going to love this.” I slip my pole straps on as I begin to move.
The two of us ski over and fly down the bowl. There’s no need to stop and figure out where to go; this is how we do things. I feel so free and happy, I can’t believe it. My best ski buddy is here, and we don’t even have to talk to know what the other thinks. I reach my poles behind me and knock them together twice. He knows it means “get ready.” Up ahead, there’s a cliff hidden by a few trees, and you don’t know it’s there until you’re on top of it. I soar over and stick the landing like a pro. I take a few turns to slow down and stop before Jason explodes off it and lets out a “Whoo!” As he pulls up to me, his chest heaves with exhilaration. “Damn, that was awesome! I didn’t expect a cliff.”
“I thought you might like that. The first time I went off it, I crashed. You crushed it.”
“Why, yes, I do believe I did.” He has a cocky grin on his face, and I can’t help but chuckle.
That’s my Jason. Gosh, it’s so good to be with him.
As we ride up the chair, I tell him stories about the girls at the boarding house. So many try to sneak in past curfew when they’ve had too much to drink.
“Do you ever do any of that?” He takes a swig of his water.
“No. I don’t get that drunk anymore. It’s not worth it.” Heat rushes to my face when I think about our last night.
“Why?” He tucks his bottle back into his jacket.
“Because my party-girl ways led me to doing stupid things and hurting people that matter to me. People like you.” I look down at my feet as my ears burn with my shame.
“Oh, Case.” He takes his glove off and lifts my chin so I’m looking at him. His greenish eyes are warm and tender.
I reach up and put my glove over his hand. “It’s true. I was so selfish that last night we spent together. You deserve so much better.”
“I forgave you a long time ago.” He touches the tip of my nose with his finger.
“I haven’t.”
“Hey, now, this is getting heavy. C’mon. Where’s my ski buddy?”
He’s forgiven me. Pushing the shame out of my head, I smile. “Bumps?”
He looks down at my chest with a wicked grin. “Yes.”
I slap his arm. “Jason, you’re awful!”
He winks at me. “That’s not what I hear. Word is, I’m pretty good.”
I shake my head. “You’re too much.” But I smile too.
At the top of the trail, we study it to figure out the best way to maneuver our way through the moguls. Shouts announce a ski class of young boys, and I turn to see shiny braces and awkward postures that make me guess they’re in middle school. The group stops at the top of our trail, and I gulp when I see the instructor with them is Blaine. Oh no. Oh, please, no.
He sees me and says, “Casey.”
“Hi.” Damn it. For a big mountain, it sure seems small today.
Blaine leans over his poles and glances back at his class. “Hey guys, you should watch this girl. She’s good.”
A high voice sings out, “Is she your girlfriend?”
“She sure is.” He looks over at me with a smile.
Crap.
“Are you going to kiss her?” A boy in a red jacket snickers.
Blaine appears amused. “I don’t know. Should I?”
Oh, dear God, no. I shoot Blaine a pleading look and he lowers his eyebrows. I know he wonders what’s wrong, and I want to die right here and now. He slides over, leans in, and kisses me.
A boy says, “Oh, gross.”
I hear you, little guy. Now is not the time for a public display of affection, and I can’t even bear to look at Jason. My body tenses as my heart beats loudly in my ears. I have to get out of here. I take off and slam through the bumps. The snow punishes my body with each turn. I’m going too fast, and even though my brain tells my legs to twist, they can’t respond fast enough. I know what’s coming but can’t stop in time to save myself. I jam a ski straight into the next mogul, and my body stops; the force sends me flying head over heels. Both feet eject out of the skis, and my bones rattle when I land hard on my back. The cold snow on my face tamps down my anger as I take a moment to recover.
I get up and slap at my clothes to get the snow off as boys’ laughter carries down to me. That doesn’t bother me. Everyone falls, and I’m sure it was epic. But Blaine and Jason both ski down to retrieve my equipment and bring it to me. This bothers me.
Blaine’s face is inches from mine as he hands me a ski. “You know you fell because you were too far forward, right?”
I glare at him and step back. Between gritted teeth I say, “I know.”
Jason hands me my other ski but keeps his dista
nce. With a sweep of my hand, I say, “Blaine, this is Jason.” He knows the name but not the history. It’s hard to tell skiing stories without including Jason. He knows Jason is an ex-boyfriend, and now he knows why I didn’t want to kiss him. Blaine’s jaw is clenched as he drops the rest of my gear at my feet and skis over to the procession of boys bouncing down the hill. Their squeals of delight fade as guilt overwhelms me.
Jason and I ski down without a word. The line is short, and we don’t speak until we’re on the chairlift.
He bangs his ski pole against a ski to knock the snow off. “Boyfriend?”
I don’t look at him. I lean my face against the cold metal. “Yeah. It’s not going so well.”
He says, “What’s new?” Ouch.
I glance at him and see he is pissed too. But why?
Crap. I know Blaine is angry because he realizes why I didn’t want to kiss him. That can’t feel good, and he probably thinks I’m still into Jason. But why is Jason mad? I wonder if he still loves me, and I think about how I steamrolled my way to him this morning. Tears burn in my eyes, and I lean over the bar and stare down at the snow moving below.
One of the most redeeming qualities Jason has is his inability to stay mad. We sit with our thoughts for a few minutes. By the end of the chair ride, we joke around almost as if nothing happened.
Jason says, “You know what we need? A good burger and a beer. Have dinner with me?”
“Sure, but I need to try to call Blaine first.” I pull out my phone and glance at him. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No, no. It’s good. I didn’t expect you to not get another boyfriend. I’m cool with it. Besides, I’m seeing someone too.”
Wait, what? My stomach sinks as Blaine’s phone rings to voice mail, so I leave a message. Just as well—I’m not up for drama.
I decide to take Jason to the Cowboy Café. It’s loud, full of locals, and has the best burgers around. Jason has four beer samples in front of him and tries to figure out which microbrew works best with beef. I find it quite amusing since I think most beer tastes the same.
He takes a sip of the first glass again and holds it over his tongue before swallowing. “It’s a fine palate that can determine these things. I’ve developed it over time.”
“Right. So why is it when we were together you ordered a Moosehead every time?”
He winks at me. “That, my dear, is because Canadian beers go with everything.”
I shake my head and laugh. The waitress comes over, and he orders his choice. He leans forward and touches her arm as he asks what burger on the menu is best. A twinge of jealousy niggles at me. Jason has a girlfriend?
“So tell me about this girl.” Bubbles form as I twirl the straw in my soda.
“Her name is Cassie. She works at a horse farm. Teaching lessons, taking care of the horses, stuff like that.”
Cassie? She’d better not look like me, too. I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. “Does she ski?”
“Yes,” he says, almost as a question.
“Yes?” I’m amused.
“She skis. But she’s not that good.” He leans his elbows on the table, and it shakes.
“Oh, that’s hard.” I say. “I hope she’s not one of those girls who don’t get the powder-day rule.”
He gives me a guilty look.
I lean forward. “No! You haven’t told her? She hasn’t seen your bumper sticker that says, “There are no friends on powder days?”
“I...” He sits up and raises open palms in the air. “Well, we haven’t had a powder day since we started dating.”
“So what you’re saying is so far you’ve dodged that bullet.” I take a sip of my soda.
He gives me a sheepish grin. “Yup.”
I chuckle. “What’s going to happen when you move here next winter?”
“Winter? I’m coming in June.” His stool creaks as he sits back.
“Okay. What happens when you come here in June?” June? Like in just a couple of months, June?
“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll come with me.” He crosses his arms as if he dares me to object.
“Cool.” No, not cool.
Our burgers arrive. Condiments explode as he squirts huge amounts of ketchup then mustard and mayonnaise on the bun. He smashes down the roll onto the meat.
I scowl. “You know that’ll come dripping out with the first bite?”
“Yes, and then you’re going to dip your fries in it.” He looks at me with a sly smile.
“Will not.” Will I?
“Will too.” He opens his mouth and takes a huge bite. The runny mixture oozes out and lands on his plate with a splat. His cheeks are puffed out like a squirrel. I pick up a fry and see my hand move toward his plate, and I hesitate midair. I can’t fight the urge. I do want to drag my fry through it, so I smear the muddy-colored mixture.
Jason’s mouth is so full he can’t speak. His eyebrows rise at me, and I say, “Okay, okay, I do. Have you tried this? It’s soooo good.” I stick the fry in my mouth and close my eyes while I savor the salty flavor on my tongue. I let out a tiny moan.
When I open my eyes again, he stares at me. He gulps down his mouthful of food, and I recognize the heat in his eyes. My breasts tingle in response. I bite my lower lip, and the warmth of a flush rises into my face. My stool rocks as I shift my weight. He looks at my chest, and I’m sure he sees my nipples are hard. Jason’s stool creaks too.
He says, “Jesus, don’t do that.”
Exactly. Don’t do that, Jason. What is wrong with me? Get a grip, Casey. Get a freaking grip.
I comb my fingers through my hair. Putting both hands on the table, I press down and take a deep breath. Jason’s hands cover mine, and I look into eyes that are hungry for me. They glisten, and damn it, now I tear up too.
I sniff and clear my throat. “So do you have a job this summer?”
“Matt hired me to do construction with him.”
“That’s great. I need to find something. My cleaning gig is getting old. What about a place to live?” I fiddle with my straw as I avoid his gaze.
“That might be tougher, but I’m going to spend tomorrow finding one.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“I know someone you should talk to.” I glance up as I speak. “I’ll give you his number. You can tell him Casey from Vermont sent you. I’m sure he’ll remember me, because the lady who owns the boarding house I live in is his receptionist.”
“Will you continue stay there?” He sticks a fry in his mouth.
“Probably. It keeps me out of trouble.” I sip my soda, and carbonation tickles my tongue before I say, “If Cassie comes and is stuck, she can always live at the boarding house. I’m happy to put a good word in for her.” Seriously? Did that just come out of my mouth?
He cocks his head at me with uncertainty. “Thanks. I’ll tell her.”
I pick up my burger. Why do I do this to myself? I put it back down, because I’ve lost my appetite.
10
“You should have told him, Casey. He feels betrayed.” Clara doesn’t sing today. She drops the bucket full of supplies with a thud.
Betrayed? I know how that feels. I suck. “Clara, I didn’t know Jason was here. Matt told me, and I went and found him.”
“Matt?”
I sigh. This is going from bad to worse. “Jason came out here on vacation and applied to teach next year.” I grab my yellow gloves and shove my hand in one.
“You can’t be serious. You, Jason, and Blaine could all be in the same locker room?” She shakes out a garbage bag with a snap.
Welcome to my current nightmare. “I know. Blaine wouldn’t take my calls or answer my texts last night. Do you think he knows Jason is teaching here next year?”
“Yes. Tim knows everything Matt does, and Blaine went out with Tim to drown his sorrows last night. Blaine doesn’t drink much now that you’re in his life, so I imagine he feels awful today.” She takes the dust rag and polish out of the bucket.
&n
bsp; Poor Blaine. My first instinct is to nurture him. Hangovers are a pain with which I am intimately familiar.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and text him with the ungloved hand. “Can I bring you anything when I get out of work? I know a few good hangover cures. <3.” The heart is pathetic. I’m groveling here, and I know it.
“He told me you two had an amazing night last weekend and he’s falling for you. Now he wonders if he’s about to be hurt.” She starts to walk off and then stops to turn back to me. “Is it true you were mad that he kissed you in front of Jason?”
Crap. “It was more than just Jason. It felt so awkward in front of all those little boys.” I’m lying. And from the look on Clara’s face, she knows it.
“Blaine is a great guy, and you’d better figure out what you want. He doesn’t deserve this.” She walks off.
Amazing? Falling for me? Was he referring to the thing we did? Oh, sweet Jesus, I don’t even know what to do here. Great. I’ve offered to go cure his hangover, and I can’t even talk to Clara about what’s wrong. She’s Blaine’s friend first. Plus, I would never share something that personal about him with people he knows. That’s just mean. I send Gretchen a text. “Skied with Jason yesterday. Ran into Blaine. He’s pissed and feels betrayed. Now what?”
I hear the buzz of her reply. “You did betray him.”
“What? I didn’t know Jason was here. I would have told Blaine if I knew he was coming.”
“No. I meant the other night.”
My stomach sinks. She’s right. When I fantasized about Jason while kissing Blaine, I did betray him. Crap.
My phone vibrates again. It’s Blaine. “Yes, please.”
* * *
After work I stop by a fast food joint and get Blaine hangover food. The heavy, fried odor floods my senses as I bang on his metal door and brace myself for our conversation.
It opens, and his eyes land on the bag. “You brought me fried food and a milkshake?” Dressed in sweats and a ratty-looking T-shirt, he looks awful. He returns to the couch and lies down.
“Trust me. This has gotten me through many a bad hangover.” I notice the bathroom garbage can and a towel on the floor. Last night must have been bad.
Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 6