HIS LAST FALL

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

  A set of heels clicks on the tile floor. “Cyrus! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You didn’t check in this morning.” McKenna — I don’t know if she has an actual title — increases her taps, her heels clicking on the floor at a ridiculously fast rate. “What’s your schedule for today?”

  She stops next to Cyrus, but he doesn’t look up or acknowledge her presence. “I’m watching Charlie practice and then I’ll practice. It’s not hard to figure out our schedules when we’re here.” He rolls his eyes when McKenna clicks her tongue.

  “Hey, she’s doing her job.” And it’s a horrible job. I can’t imagine being in charge of the men’s snowboarding team. Even if she only has to watch a couple of guys rather than the entire team.

  Especially because half of them are assholes. Some of the men on the team can be real divas before a competition.

  McKenna doesn’t seem fazed by his attitude. She writes down a few quick words, her pen scratching against the paper in hurried strokes. “Thank you, Reagan. Trying to chase down each of them every morning is horrible. Speaking of which, have you seen your brother?”

  “Last I heard, he was planning to eat breakfast with Marley.”

  She lets out a breath of air. “At least he’s reasonable. Stays out of trouble. Basically not a media nightmare. He and Oliver are the only two I don’t worry about.”

  Her words bring back memories of Remi’s first Winter Games and I laugh quietly to myself. He definitely gave the PR team a full workload that year. He swore once on camera, got caught kissing Marley at an event — which wouldn’t have been a big deal, but he didn’t tell anyone she was his long-term girlfriend so the media freaked — and, my personal favorite, went to a press conference wearing a Gold Medal sponsored hat…for the Canadian team. He swears it was an accident. Truthfully, I can’t believe they allowed him to come back three more times.

  With my eyes closed and lost in memories, I miss his approach, but I can’t ignore the evidence when the couch dips, raising me higher before I settle back down.

  I snatch open my eyes, suspicious. “You can’t sit here.”

  Isaac, one of those asshole diva skiers, laughs and continues sitting on my couch. Totally ignoring me.

  Skiers. They’re such jerks. He thinks snowboarders are cocky and have egos the size of mountains, but skiers think they’re God’s gift to women and the top of the food chain. They don’t realize it’s not 1985 anymore. Just because they roll down a hill on skis faster than anyone else does not make them a Hemsworth brother.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t be here much longer.” He stretches out on the couch, one arm falling along the back side like he’s here to spend an afternoon.

  “What’s that mean?”

  He smiles, but it’s obviously not a good one. “Knox is signing tits in the lobby.”

  “What!” McKenna and I both shout.

  CHAPTER SIX

  McKenna drops her clipboard at the same time my feet make contact with the floor, both of us drowning the sound of the other out.

  “Where?” I ask Isaac. Anger boils up inside of me until I’m ready to pounce on him if he doesn’t give me an answer quickly. I’ll pull out his hairs one by one.

  “I told you.” He leans back while I inch closer. “By the front desk.”

  McKenna gasps. “The lobby? Is there a worse place to do something like that?” She turns on one of her long heels and heads to the direction she came from a moment ago.

  “Wait. Hold up. I’m coming with you.”

  She barely turns around and definitely doesn’t stop. “Well, hurry up. This could mean my job.” She sputters a bunch of swear words. The single phrase I pick up is a solid, “Fucking assholes.”

  It’s a little melodramatic. Sure Knox is a complete asshole if he is signing someone’s boobs in the lobby, but a lot of athletes have done a lot of worse shit at sponsored events. As long as no one takes a picture and the media doesn’t find out, it won’t be the worst thing to happen here. Even for this two-week period. They’ve already had rooms broken into and a fist fight happen at the bottom of the hill. Those damn skiers again. The US committee puts aside money to buy photos off photographers before they submit them to papers. It’s one of those horribly held secrets everyone knows about but no one documents.

  I’m wearing boots, but even in her tall heels, McKenna walks fast enough I have to hurry to keep up with her. “Knox is normally not one I have to worry about. He’s like your brother. The two of them are great examples for the other guys. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened to make him think this is a good idea.”

  I miss a step. I may have a small idea of what happened. Although, that’s not fair to me. Knox is the one who wasn’t in the room this morning. He is the one who snuck out this time, not me. Maybe this is his way of trying to show me how little I mean to him.

  McKenna continues her verbal tirade against Knox as we travel down the hallway connecting the viewing area to the front lobby. “If he thinks because he’s our best chance at a gold medal in the men’s snowboard cross that I won’t tear him a new one, he’s wrong. I’ve had it up to here with these guys.”

  “I know,” I say because it sounds like she needs someone to agree with her.

  “And another thing. He’s a senior member of the team. A co-captain! He’s supposed to be smarter than this.”

  “I know.” I hope she doesn’t call them senior to their faces. No athlete wants to be reminded of their age and that they aren’t the youngest and fastest any longer.

  A heavy steel door separates our hallway from the lobby, but it doesn’t slow McKenna down one bit. She barrels on through the door, slamming it open and giving us a grand entrance into the lobby.

  Everyone stops. Even the workers behind the front desk. But especially the group of four girls, bottle bleached blondes with big boobs and tiny little waists, with a towering athlete in the middle of them.

  The people in the lobby quickly go back to work, but four sets of eyes follow us as McKenna and I cross the distance.

  Knox doesn’t even look the least bit concerned. In fact, his mouth curls into a tiny little smirk like he is enjoying himself. I’m not one for violence of any sort, but that man is lucky he still has an event to participate in or else he’d have to worry about me breaking an arm. Or leg. I’m not picky.

  He pulls down one of the girls’ tank top — for his own health and safety stopping shy of the top of her bra — and then he removes a permanent marker he had hanging from his mouth and scribbles his signature across the top of her chest. Making sure to add a little extra flair on the swirl of the last letter in his name. My fists tighten into little balls. He doesn’t need a cheek to snowboard. He recaps the pen and smiles at the fan girl because he obviously has a death wish.

  McKenna’s steps slow, which seems completely odd to me because we’re finally almost there. Now is the time to pick them up and walk faster. If she and I worked together, we could definitely do some damage to Knox before security pulled us off him. But that’s not what she does it all. A few feet from Knox she stops, puts a smile on her face, and strolls over like there’s nothing important going on.

  “Okay, ladies. Autograph time is over. We have to let our athletes get as much practice as they can.”

  All the girls sigh, little tiny whines that sound like someone took their best toy away.

  But they don’t know Knox isn’t their toy.

  He’s mine.

  I stop. My eyes search the space looking to see if anyone heard that. I’m pretty sure I said in my mind, but I’ve never felt such waves of jealousy before. I’ve never wanted to say the words out loud.

  Knox is mine.

  If there’s anybody’s boobs he should be touching. They are mine.

  The anger and jealousy flares up inside and brings me to a halt next to McKenna where I’m unable to smile. Instead my mouth drops open as I process the feelings I’ve never wanted to process before.

  “W
hat’s wrong, Reagan? I’m just being me, right?”

  My mouth falls further open and my face hardens. “How could you?”

  I spin on the base of one of my boot heels and stomp back to the metal door McKenna and I came through.

  “It got your attention, didn’t it?” Knox yells through the lobby causing me to jolt to a halt.

  It doesn’t last long before my steps pick up again. It might’ve got my attention, but not the way he wanted it to.

  “No, you’re not going anywhere. We have a lot to talk about.” McKenna’s voice travels the distance and is covered up when my hands make contact with the metal bar across the door we just left. The clanging sound drowns out whatever Knox says in return.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I cannot believe that man. The door closes loudly behind me, and I continue down the hallway.

  Screw this whole thing. It’s time to get my life in order. Get a cab back to my hotel, pack my bag, and get the hell out of this country. I’ve spent most of my twenties chasing around Remi and Knox. My passport has more stamps than some dignitaries.

  But that ends now. There’s no reason for me to keep going. From now on, my butt is planted on American soil. Maybe I’ll take a trip to someplace warm…like Florida.

  “Reagan, wait!”

  Yeah, right. He’s got a fat chance of that happening.

  I pick up my pace, but unfortunately Knox is like seven feet taller than me. Okay, fine it’s more around a foot, but one of his steps is practically three of mine, so before I even have a chance to make it to the elevators he’s beside me.

  “You are stupid. You are more than stupid. You are a dumbass.” I don’t worry about lowering my voice because we’re the only two in the hallway at this particular moment. It would serve him right if someone did hear. Take a video. Put it on YouTube. “What were you thinking? Do I mean nothing to you?” Knox sidesteps and ends up on the other side of me. He twists his body until his chest faces my shoulder. “Does your career mean nothing to you?”

  “Of course.” He walks forward edging me closer to the elevators.

  “I’m not getting on an elevator with you.” I stop walking and stand firmly in front of the large bank of them. “And what of course? Your career means something to you or I mean something to you?” How is it men never actually answer a question with more than three words?

  Knox leans across my body and hits the up arrow between the two elevator doors.

  I immediately hit the down arrow since the taxi stand is on the ground level. “I’m not getting on an elevator with you.”

  “Why are you always so difficult?” he asks right as an elevator door opens.

  “Me?” I walk on the elevator to get away from him. I need space between Knox otherwise I’ll either hit him or kiss him. Either option would be bad. He still has an event to run. After that he’s fair game. “You’re such an asshole. Who the hell signs boobs? How could you do that?”

  It’s one thing for him to be an asshole under normal circumstances, but after being with me all last night, this hurts worse than normal. I’m nothing to him but a piece of ass like all the other girls running around the hotel.

  “I know.” Knox walks into the elevator right after me and pushes the button for his floor.

  I sidestep him and push the button with a star hopeful it will at least get me to the first floor if not the basement. If I get on a taxi, I’ll get away from him. “So you admit you’re an asshole?”

  Because I have the worst luck in the world, the elevator starts going up. Knox smiles. “I’ve never denied that, Reagan. But it made you notice me, huh? It’s time for us to have the talk.”

  “That’s what you are trying to do? Get my attention!” The elevator doors open and I refuse to get out.

  Unfortunately, Knox disagrees. He grabs my hand and with a good yank I’m forced to follow him. Okay fine, I might not put up as much of a fight as I would like.

  “Something had to make you stop and pay attention.” Knox pulls me down the hallway.

  How does this man not know I always pay attention to him? I firmly plant my feet on the ground, not willing to go a step closer to his room, but he leans over and lifts me up. “Knox! Put me down.”

  Two other Americans walk by — not snowboarders since I don’t recognize them. Both of them smile. They don’t realize I’m being kidnapped against my will.

  “Shhh,” he whispers. Taking out a key he unlocks his room door without dropping me even an inch. “We’re going somewhere we can talk.”

  “I could talk in the elevator. We can talk in the hallway.”

  “Not about this we couldn’t.” With the door open Knox sets me on my feet in the middle of the room and stands with his back to the door, blocking my path.

  “Well you got me here, now what?” I cross my arms and do my best to look pissed off.

  He doesn’t care at all. He stands there in front of his door with some stupid smile on his face. “Now we wait until you calm down and then we talk.”

  “Fine, I’m calm.” I tap my foot on the floor. “Let’s talk.”

  Knox tilts his head to the side like he’s almost irritated. “So this thing between us. Is it a secret or not? Because I told you if we fucked we were doing this thing, but I’ll give you a few days if you need them.”

  “What thing between us?” Of course I know what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to acknowledge it now.

  He loses a little bit of his smile. Definitely annoyed. “Knock it off, Reagan. You know exactly what I mean. When are we telling people?”

  “We are not anything right now. You’re the one who wasn’t in the room when I woke up this morning. You were out signing boobs in lobby!”

  Knox sighs, a deep gritted annoying sound. “Because I’ve tried to give you distance, Reagan. I don’t know what you want from me. I’m done playing whatever game we’re playing.”

  “I’m not playing a game.” My hands fall to my hips.

  “Really?” He points out the door. “Tell your brother right now.”

  “My brother?” The least of my concerns is Remi. I don’t know how he’d react to Knox and me in a relationship, but I also don’t care. It’s always been about Knox and whether I fit the right type for his image. Snowboarders are known for dating a certain type of women. Marley doesn’t fit the profile. She’s too sweet. She and Remi both have taken flak for it from the media in the past. I mean she’s a freakin’ kindergarten teacher, for fuck’s sake.

  “That’s the problem, right? You’re scared to tell your brother.” Knox’s voice rises in irritation. “Why is that, Reagan? Are you embarrassed of me? Don’t think your brother will think I’m good enough?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re Remi’s best friend.” I lean a little forward getting as angry.

  “You need to decide and quickly because I’m going to tell him.” We’re practically nose to nose, each of us leaning into the conversation.

  “What is your obsession with Remi?” He and my brother have always been close, but this is a bit ridiculous.

  Knox throws his hands up in the air. “I told you if we did this we were doing it this time.”

  “I don’t even know what that means!”

  “I love you, Reagan. Why has it taken you so long to figure it out? I thought maybe you felt the same way the last time we did this song and dance, but then you left! I couldn’t do it again. I refuse to be someone you hook up with every few years. I want more. We need more. I’m not going to do this unless we do it all the way. No looking back or falling. It’s you and me from here on out.”

  “Would you shut up and kiss me?”

  Knox leans back in surprise. “What?”

  Looks like I need to take charge on this one. Even with his new position, Knox is bent over far enough my nose reaches his lips. I hold my head up and tilt my lips to his. With both hands I grab onto his shoulders to steady myself. He takes a step forward, matching my step back, and my k
nees hit the edge of the bed. We tumble backward, neither of us caring. My back hits the hard mattress — the Gold Medal officials don’t put a ton of money into the bedding — and Knox follows, falling on top of me. He braces his weight to one side and brandishes kisses down my neck from the top of my chest.

  He reaches the collar of my tight-fitting T-shirt and pulls the edge down, stretching it. “Take off your shirt,” he mumbles in between quicker licks and kisses on the hollow indent of my collar bone — the one place that’s absolutely sure to send me into a pleasure spiral.

  “Huh?” I mumble, lost in the haze of whatever he’s doing to my neck. “You take off your shirt.”

  Knox chuckles. “Take off your shirt.” He tugs on the hem of my shirt, bringing it higher on my stomach.

  I finally take the hint and sit up, pulling off the rest of the top. Crumpling it into a ball, I toss it on the end of the bed. “Don’t stop.”

  Thankfully he finally, for once in his life, listens. Sucking on my earlobe, Knox pushes his hand into my bra, cups my breast, and tweaks a nipple with his thumb and first finger.

  An unintelligible noise slips between my teeth, something between a moan and a whine as I pull him closer by his belt loops. I wrap my fingers around the top of his pants and fumble with his zipper wanting to get them open quickly. I don’t want him to stop what he’s doing to help. The energy between us crackles in the dry room. With the button released, next comes the zipper, and my fingers push his jeans lower until they reach his knees and I run out of space. My legs brush against his thigh and a wave of arousal rushes through me.

  I need him.

  In the corner small recess of my mind, my ears pick up the clicking sound of a door handle turning, but it’s much too late before my fuzzy brain puts it together.

  “Bro, you’re late for your practice run.”

  The door swings open, making contact with the wall behind it.

  “Oh my God!” our intruder screams like a terrified school girl even though no one on the planet would say he resembles one.

  I hurry to move my body under Knox’s, using him as a protective shield. Maybe my brother hasn’t seen my face.