by Erika Kelly
“No need. I have to get my dad’s truck back to him.”
He caught up with her. “Hold up. Listen to me. I’m moving to New York. I’m signing with Braverman. Our plans haven’t changed. This is just two weeks, nothing else.”
“I heard you loud and clear.” She snatched the tote she’d left by the front door.
“Wait a second. This isn’t like me bailing on the prom. All you have is the interview and apartment hunting.” When she eyed him stonily, he said, “Do you want me there to see the apartment?” Because he could do that. Fly out of New York. No big deal.
Though he might miss the heli ride up the mountain.
“She’s expecting to see a couple.” She dug her keys out of the side pocket of the tote. “That’s the whole point of the meeting. We’re twenty-three, and she wants mature tenants.”
“Okay, so I’ll go to New York with you, and then the day after tomorrow I’ll catch up with my brothers.”
She did that thing again, where she drew in a breath and became weirdly composed. She even put a hand on his arm, like he was some old geezer she’d shown around the museum. “That’s not necessary. Delilah will come with me.”
“Just talk to me, okay? I don’t know where your head is right now.” He looked back to his brothers, watching from the doorway to the kitchen. “If you don’t want me to go… I just figured you didn’t need me to choose an apartment. You have to know, I don’t care where we live as long as I get to be with you.”
“I know that.” She gave him a smile. “Let me go. My mom’s making a big breakfast for the whole family, and I don’t want to miss it.”
She acted like everything was cool, but Fin knew something was off. He shot a look to Will. “I only have to go for one week. He really only needs my help choosing a spine.”
Will gave a terse nod.
“Yeah, so, I’ll just go for a week.” Perfect solution. What was a week in the scheme of things?
“Great.” She waved to his brothers. “Good luck out there, Will. Nice to see you, Gray.”
Fin grabbed her arm before she walked out the door. “We’re good, right? Nothing’s changed?”
She gazed up at him, an unmistakable hint of sorrow in her eyes. “Nothing’s changed at all.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In the Admiral’s Club at Denver International airport, Fin stood staring out the plate glass window onto the tarmac. Instead of seeing airplanes, he saw the spine Will would ride in five days.
They’d gotten to the airport early enough for their international flight that they’d rented a conference room. With photographs of the mountain spread across the table, his brothers studied the images, but for Fin it wasn’t that literal. He took in all the available information and then processed it subconsciously.
But it was hard to concentrate when he hadn’t heard from Callie since she’d left his house yesterday. Not once. Sure, she’d traveled all day, checked into their hotel, and probably crashed right away. Today, in about an hour, she’d meet with Hilda. And tomorrow she’d look at the apartment she really wanted.
She’s pissed. Otherwise, he’d have heard from her. But he didn’t get why. He didn’t care where they lived. He could live in a yurt on the side of a mountain and be happy as long as he got to wake up to her. This isn’t like the prom. If she’d had some event, he wouldn’t have gone with Will.
The tightness in his chest made it hard to take a full breath. He didn’t want her pissed at him. So what could he do? Cut the trip even shorter. From the moment he’d agreed to go on this trip, he’d been examining photographs of the mountain face. That, plus the heli ride, would give him all the information he needed to work out Will’s run.
He could fly to New York right after that. He’d be gone even less than a week.
“That’ll only give you two jumps,” he heard Gray say.
Where the other brothers lived their sport like a religion, Gray rolled with the weather, his posse, and his whims. He was so damn good at boarding and surfing that he could enter competitions when the mood struck him. And win. Since he wasn’t part of a team or tour, he didn’t have nearly as many trophies and medals as the other brothers, but Gray didn’t give two shits.
“Better to have two fluid jumps then risk zigzagging for that third.” Will said. Always the technician.
“You don’t have to zigzag,” Brodie said. “Fin measured it. It’s a good enough distance to give you time to even out before hitting the next jump.”
“Can’t risk it.”
And that was when Fin saw it. Crystal clear. He turned away from the window and reached for the photos on the table, shuffling through them until he pulled out the one with the best overview. “Here.” His finger traced the line that would give Will the best flow and three solid but risky jumps. “That’s it. Right there.”
“I can’t make that one.” Will’s finger stabbed a cliff.
“Sure you can. Carve the edge and drop down over here. That’ll take you—”
“Oh, shit,” Will said. “I see it. That’s fucking great.”
“That’s sick, man.” Gray laughed. “How do you do that?”
“Jesus, Fin, I don’t know what the hell I’d do without you,” Will said.
But Callie knew, didn’t she? She knew really well, since she was in New York City without him right then. Because he’d done it again.
Like blinking to clear his vision after popping out of the murky lake, he suddenly saw the world clearly and cleanly. “I’m done.”
He finally got where he kept screwing up.
“With what?” Will glanced up from the photograph.
“I’m not going to Chile with you.” It was the right decision…but the cost…the fucking cost. He didn’t want to lose his relationship with his brothers, but he was twenty-three years old. Time to man up.
Will reared back. “What’re you talking about? Our flight takes off in an hour.”
“It’s like Callie said. It’s so ingrained in me that I don’t even know I’m doing it. But I did it again. I dropped everything for you.”
“You didn’t drop anything,” Wil said. “There’s nothing going on in New York right now.”
“My life with Callie is going on. Or it should be.” He wanted to soar—he was finally free of this lifelong need to be included—but fear had a grip on his ankles, holding him down. “I’m not your coach.”
“I know that.”
“No, you don’t. And it’s not your fault. It’s mine.” His brothers couldn’t even talk about their dad. They sure as hell wouldn’t want to hear his revelations.
But he needed to say it out loud. “I’m just so damned relieved when you include me that I throw aside whatever I’m doing. And that’s the thing. Every time I do that, I’m telling you what I do doesn’t matter.” He looked at his brothers, gauging their reactions. Mostly, they just looked stunned. “I make my living freeriding, and the only reason you guys don’t see it as a legitimate career is because I drop everything when you call. And Callie? I know you don’t get it, but she’s…” Everything to me. “I’m not even going to bother explaining. I’m going to show you what matters to me by making it my priority.” His backpack leaned against the wall, but he couldn’t get his feet to move.
He needed to get to the ticket desk and reroute his flight plan, but…he just had to say it, right? Even if they made fun of him. It was just so hard to think clearly when emotions kept rolling in.
“You all right, man?” Gray asked.
His brothers watched him with concern, as he drew in a shaky breath. He wanted—needed—them to understand. “My earliest memory…I was maybe four. Five. I woke up really fucking happy.”
“You were a happy kid.” Will’s tone said, Where you going with this?
He nodded. “I got out of bed. Got my snowsuit on, put on that stupid hat Mom got me, and these thick, wool socks.”
Brodie’s brow creased, and Will cocked his head. Yeah, he wasn’t making a whole lot
of sense.
Say it. “The night before, you guys thought I was asleep, but I was sitting on the stairs listening while you raided the pantry. You talked about hiding the skis behind the fence, bringing the brownies Uncle Lachlan had brought home from the bakery. You had this great day planned, and I couldn’t wait. The four of us skiing? Eating brownies together?” He smiled at how much that had meant to him. “But when I came downstairs…”
Gray winced, and Will looked down at his black boots.
“You guys were gone. You’d…ditched me.” It had hurt. So fucking badly. He’d gone wild. His mom hadn’t known what to do with him. His dad had taken him to the cabin for the weekend—just the two of them.
But it hadn’t mattered. Because his brothers had left him behind.
“We were just stupid kids,” Gray said.
“You’re one year older than me,” Fin said. “It wasn’t like you were so much more advanced than I was. But I was the one left behind.”
“Okay, but we’re all equals now.” Will still didn’t get it.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Resolve pushed out fear. “You don’t respect what I do. You think I’m just some reckless adrenaline junkie, while the rest of you are real athletes. And the truth is, if I didn’t train you, I’d hardly see you. We don’t live in the same worlds. The only thing that ties us together is me training you.” He didn’t even care if they made fun of him or used these words against him later because it felt fucking great to say them. “When I coach you…I’m indispensable. And if I stop training you, then I’m not going to be included.”
“What’re you talking about?” Angry energy rolled off his oldest brother. “You’re indispensable because you’re my brother.” He shoved the photographs. “Not because of this.” He stood there looking pissed and confused. “Jesus, Fin, you’re the best fucking part of us.” Will’s expression said, How do you not know this? “You’re the heart.”
Stunned, Fin blinked back the sting in his eyes.
“It’s not like Brodie competes anymore,” Gray said. “We’re all doing our own things.”
But that only highlighted the issue. “Brodie was a champion, too. The three of you…you’re champions. I’m the outsider.”
“There is no outsider.” Will exploded with more emotion than Fin had ever heard. “We’re brothers, and that’s fucking sacred. It’s unbreakable.” He shook his head. “You came at me with a lot at once here. The idea that you think I don’t respect you.” He glanced out the window unseeingly before swinging his gaze back to Fin. “I examine the mountain from every angle. I plan out my every move. I practice my tricks until I could be braindead and my muscles would still remember what to do. But you, you’re out there improvising on untouched terrain. You see things the rest of us can’t because you’ve lived it. You understand nutrition and training better than anybody I know. No one has your vision, your knowledge, your intuitive understanding of our sport.”
It was the first time Fin had ever heard these words, and he was floored.
“I respect the hell out of you and, yeah, I want you to coach me. I want to be the best, so I need the best coach. And, honestly, I take what you give me. But I never meant to hold you back. Jesus, I…” He scraped his hands through his short hair. “Fin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to coach me in order for me to spend time with you. That’s not…”
“You’re looking at it from the wrong angle, dude.” Gray clapped him on the shoulder. “If any of us wants to spend time with Will, we have to be doing what he’s doing. Training and competing is all he does.” He smiled. “You’re hanging out with the wrong brother.”
Fin reached for his backpack. “I’m hanging out with the wrong gender.”
“You gonna change your flight?” Brodie said.
“Hell, yeah.” Fin hugged him and then turned to Will. “Good luck out there, man.”
Still looking shaken, Will grabbed Fin and pulled him into a bear hug. When Fin started to pull away, his brother tightened his hold.
And when Will finally pulled back, he said, “Go get your girl.”
******
From her seat across the table, Callie watched Mrs. Reyes hold court with a few of the ladies who lunch.
“So lovely to see you again, Jacqueline,” one of them gushed.
“If you’re looking for board members for the polo event this year,” another one said. “I’d love to help.”
Julian, sitting next to her, leaned closer. “I’m hoping you remembered to bring my grandmother’s bracelet.”
Callie jerked her attention away from the fawning display to focus on her ex. His cologne sent her back to the bathroom in his loft, where she’d always wiped down the counter with a hand towel and stored her toiletries in a bag under the sink so she wouldn’t get in his way. “Of course.”
“You’re looking…relaxed.”
Wonderful. A jab about her tank-style cotton dress and wavy hair. “It’s a hundred degrees today, and ninety percent humidity. This is me.” The moment Hilda had awarded the fellowship to Callie, Mrs. Reyes had called to set up a meeting. Callie had only accepted because she had to work with these people and needed to be on good terms with them.
But she wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly why Mrs. Reyes had invited her to lunch.
He picked up a lock of hair that looked like she’d dipped it in lightning. “Back to dying your hair, I see.”
Instead of smacking his hand away, she reached into her tote and dug around for her wallet. Unzipping the coin section, she pulled out the bracelet he’d given her. “Here you go.”
Just for one moment, his cold demeanor melted and hurt flashed in his eyes, but he quickly shut it down. “Thank you.” He reached across the table to hand it to his mother.
Mrs. Reyes waved goodbye to her friends with one hand and took the bracelet with the other. Discreetly, she pulled out a rectangular velvet case from her Chanel bag and draped it inside before snapping it closed. With her regal posture, she took Callie in. “The humidity’s unbearable, isn’t it?”
Automatically, she smoothed her naturally wavy hair, too aware of the frizz. But she crushed the panic. She didn’t need glossy hair to have this conversation. They’re not my friends. “So, I’m sure you want to talk about the fellowship.”
She didn’t miss the brief connection between mother and son, a look that said, Gauche.
But she was done playing games. “I know you can’t be happy that I went around you to get it, but I earned it. Kissing my boyfriend in the privacy of my exhibition space doesn’t trump graduating from NYU summa cum laude, a master’s degree, all the internships I’ve done, or the fact that I created a very successful pop-exhibition on my own.” She turned to her ex. “I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you’d hoped, but you can’t punish me for it.”
She didn’t miss the slight curl of his upper lip.
“Calliope, dear, you must know that Hilda Morrison doesn’t choose the recipients.” Mrs. Reyes gave her a pitying look. “Our sponsors sign contracts giving us the authority to screen and choose the candidates. There is so much more involved in the selection process than appealing to the sponsor.”
“Considering that you cut me out of the process because your son and I are no longer dating, I’m not sure how relevant the process actually is.”
“Many factors go into such a decision,” Mrs. Reyes said. “And we had outstanding applicants this year.”
Julian shook his head. “You can’t think the MoCA would choose you after that sex tape went viral.”
Megan had nailed it, hadn’t she? “It wasn’t a sex tape, Julian. It was a kiss.”
“And how many guys would you kiss on tables in the MoCA?” he said in a harsh whisper.
“Grab me a place setting, would you, darling?” A big white leather bag landed on the table next to Mrs. Reyes, rattling the silverware. Hilda Morrison, in a hot pink suit, plopped into the last available chair and grabbed the napki
n folded into the shape of a swan. Snapping it open, she patted the perspiration off her forehead. “It’s hotter ’n a firecracker lit at both ends.”
Callie smiled because the old woman didn’t actually talk like that, but the way Julian and his mother stiffened had the desired effect.
Hilda pulled off her hot pink straw hat and fanned herself with it, the large red flower fluttering in the breeze. She lifted a finger to a passing waiter. Before he even arrived at the table, Hilda said, “You wanna grab me a martini? Bombay Sapphire, up, and real dirty.” She added a little growl to the real.
The waiter bit back a smile, nodded, and headed for the bar. Hilda frequented the Four Seasons, so everyone knew her.
“So.” Hilda set her arms on the table. “Did I just hear you tell my protogée I don’t have a say in choosing the candidate for the fellowship I sponsor?”
“While we are deeply appreciative of your generosity all these years,” Mrs. Reyes said in a patronizing tone. “I’m afraid that, no, you don’t have a say in the selection process.”
Hilda tugged on the cuff of her sleeve until it peeked out of the blazer. “I had a nice chat with the secretary when I stopped by the office yesterday. She says Callie’s application was pulled before anyone on the board reviewed it. That true? Or is she giving me a load of bullshit?”
Mrs. Reyes tilted her chin. “We had an unusual number of highly qualified applicants, forcing us to screen some of the candidates. Unfortunately, Calliope didn’t make it to the next level. Going around our selection process is not going to give her the result she’s looking for.”
“Well, Jackie.” And just like that the grand dame of New York society dropped the persona and unleashed a cold smile. “Let’s get something clear. You’re trying to subvert a process designed to bring the best and brightest into the arts for a personal vendetta. So, regardless of formal agreements, Calliope will get the fellowship or I’ll cease sponsoring it.”