“Asher, stop!”
He did and sighed. He studied her for a long moment. “I don’t get why you’re so afraid.”
Really? He couldn’t understand her hesitation to try something that had almost killed her? Something she’d been certain she didn’t need anymore until she was standing there among the buzz of competition? “Because I could have broken my neck and never walked again. Giving up this ridiculous sport while I could still live an able-bodied life seemed like the best option for me, okay?” she said coldly. Her gaze went past him as several competitors stared a little too long, obviously recognizing them…or maybe just Ash. Either way, having this argument right there on the street only increased her irritation. “Can we go back to the resort now?” At this point, she wasn’t sure they could salvage the rest of the weekend but she was willing to try. As long as he stopped this ridiculous conversation.
He didn’t. “Just try.”
He was seriously obtuse. “I told you, I’m done with snowboarding,” she said, her anger rising. Hadn’t he promised not to bring up the idea of her competing?
“You’re just scared. I get it. But this is your chance, Em…”
“I don’t want a chance at this again, Ash.” She pulled away from him, an ache in her chest at the look of disappointment on his face. “I left this behind. I’m moving on…” Was he not hearing anything she said? The more she repeated herself, the more conflicted she felt. If he believed so strongly that trying again was the right thing to do, could he be right?
“At the University of Florida?” His tone was cold as he said it. “Busting your butt for a career that won’t make you happy?”
He had a lot of nerve to make that assumption. “How do you know what will make me happy?”
“Because I know you. You and I are the same. We thrive on the competition, we feel alive when the adrenaline takes over. We work our bodies to breaking points, then push even further.” He lifted his sunglasses over his hat to look into her eyes.
She was grateful for her own dark lenses as tears threatened. She shook her head. “That’s not me anymore.” Damn, she wished she sounded more convincing.
Asher’s jaw clenched. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. “Where is the girl who won gold at the Olympics? The one who broke speed records three years in a row? The one with the medals and trophies she’d once been proud of? This was your life, and you’ve been hollow without it.”
She was hollow without him. Why the hell couldn’t he realize what she had—that there was more to life. “I grew up, Ash. This sport was never something that was going to last.” Just like hockey for him. “I want a different life.” At least she thought she did. Her suddenly conflicted heart betrayed her.
He stared at her as though he didn’t know her. As though she were suddenly a disappointment.
Breaking every last piece of her heart.
“Don’t you ever want more?” she asked, hating the note of pleading in her voice. If he couldn’t figure out that there was a life outside of the arena on his own, what chance did she have? What chance did they have at a future if he continued to put hockey first?
“More than what?”
“Hockey. Life on the road. Putting your body through hell every night. Never settling down…This injury proves you’re not the invincible person you think you are. Someday you won’t be able to keep up.”
He stormed toward her and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Do not put your fears and insecurities on me. Just because you’re no longer brave enough to go after what you want doesn’t mean I’m rolling over and playing dead. This injury is nothing. Your injuries were nothing. You recovered, and you could have been great again.” He released her and his gaze lowered to their feet. “I guess that’s the difference between us.”
A lump formed in her throat. What was he saying? That she wasn’t the person he’d thought she was? The kick to the gut made her ill.
“You can’t allow fear to hold you back from what you want,” he said, an obvious attempt to soften the blow he’d just delivered.
Too late.
“You have to go after what you want.”
His words resulted in a slightly bitter laugh escaping her. Go after what she wanted? Like when she’d pushed her fears aside and told him she loved him, only to be met with no response? Yeah, ’cause that had worked out so wonderfully for her.
“I think I’ve taken enough chances that haven’t quite panned out the way I was hoping for one weekend.”
“Emma…”
Moving around him, she headed down the street. Quickly, through the crowd of blurred faces and away from him.
* * *
Damn. Asher ran a hand over his stubble at his chin as he watched Emma storm away.
“That was smooth.”
Turning, he saw Frank Jarvis standing right next him. “Hey, Coach,” he said, extending a hand to the man.
He took it with a shake of his head. “Still no luck getting her back on a board, huh?”
Asher’s gaze returned to her angry, disappearing figure down the street. “Nope.” He didn’t get it. She obviously still wanted to compete if she’d come back the year after her accident. And he knew she could be great again if she tried. Allowing fear to hold her back from something she loved, something she was passionate about, was not the Emma he knew.
“Let me buy you a drink,” Frank said, nodding toward the Mountainside Ale Brewhouse just as a waitress illuminated the open sign in the window and set out the curbside daily menu.
“It’s ten a.m.”
“Right. We’re getting a late start. Better hurry,” the older man said, slapping Asher’s shoulder and heading toward the pub.
Asher shrugged and followed the former snowboarding legend. Emma had probably left him stranded miles from the resort by now anyway. At least he hoped that’s where she was headed, and not straight back to Glenwood Falls. In all their years as friends and lovers, he couldn’t remember an argument with her.
It sucked. He hadn’t meant his words to come out as harsh as they had. He just couldn’t understand her unwillingness to try. The Emma he knew had never let fear hold her back.
Her words about the chance she’d already taken, telling him she loved him, had made him feel like an asshole. The last thing he’d wanted was to hurt her or upset her by bringing her here this weekend. Yet, he’d done both.
A drink actually didn’t sound like a bad idea. He usually avoided alcohol during the season, but well, he wasn’t playing. And he probably wouldn’t be for a while, seeing as how he’d just pissed off the only woman who cared enough to help him recover quickly.
Inside the dimly lit pub, it took his eyes a second to adjust as he removed his Oakleys and hat from the top of his head. Like everywhere else in Breckenridge, the place was covered in Christmas decorations, reminding him of just how close the holiday was. He’d been hoping to do his shopping in the village and that Emma would help him buy and wrap gifts for his family…
He shook his head. Man, he relied on her for so much.
Sliding into the booth, he reached for a drink menu.
“Don’t bother looking. I know exactly what you need,” Frank said as the waitress approached.
The woman, who looked about eight months pregnant, was wearing a large black T-shirt with the pub’s logo on it over a pair of red-and-green-striped leggings. She grinned upon seeing Frank. “Didn’t I just kick you out of here a few hours ago?”
Fantastic. The man had turned to alcohol in his retirement. He wondered if the competition officials knew one of their judges would more than likely be a little tipsy on that day’s judging panel. And hadn’t Frank been checking equipment that morning? Ash shifted uncomfortably, as Frank laughed. “Can we get two of my usual?” he asked.
The redhead nodded, her Christmas tree–shaped earrings dangling back and forth. She smiled in Asher’s direction, but her question was directed at Frank. “You sure your frien
d can handle your usual? He looks like a lightweight,” she said with a wink.
Lightweight? Him? Frank was at least three inches shorter and forty pounds lighter. What the hell kind of drink did the guy order for them?
Frank eyed him, then nodded. “Don’t let the baby face fool you. This is one of the NHL’s biggest brawlers.”
Hardly. Asher shook his head. “You know what, maybe I’ll just have a coffee.”
“He’ll have what I’m having,” Frank told the waitress.
She winked at him again as she walked off toward the bar.
“So, tell me what you did to piss off our girl.”
Too much. He ran a hand through his hair. “Pushed her too far, I guess.”
“Well, you got her to come to Breckenridge…that’s a feat in itself. Being back here can’t be easy on her.”
Asher leaned on his elbows. “I just found out she came this far on her own two years ago.” How had he not known that? Why hadn’t she told him? He could have tried to be there for her, encourage her, help her get back to what she’d once loved. The fact that she felt she couldn’t tell him annoyed him. Like the Florida thing.
Frank nodded. “I saw her name on the competitors list that year…”
“She just needs to try,” Asher said.
“Does she?” Frank sat back in the booth and interlaced his fingers on the table in front of him.
“Yeah…I mean, she can’t just walk away.”
“Why not?”
Was the man playing devil’s advocate, or did he truly believe that Emma should give up her passion? The coach may have called it quits and resorted to judging and drinking, so maybe that’s where he was coming from, but Emma wasn’t a quitter.
“Because she was one of the greatest female competitors in the sport.”
Frank leaned forward. “And she retired that way. She didn’t keep competing after she knew she only had one way to go. Asher, professional sports have a way of making an athlete feel immortal…but only when they’re on top.”
He shifted in the booth. He could relate to that feeling, sure. At thirty, his own career was soon going to be on the decline.
“But the inevitable downward spiral can be devastating,” Frank continued. “Emma walked away at the right time.”
“But…”
Frank held up a hand. “Her injuries had broken not only her body but also her spirit. Without that driving spark that Emma had before her accident, she would never have stood on those podiums again, and that would have crushed her more than the fall.”
Asher was silent.
“Right now, she was once the best and she has no reason to feel like that ever had a reason to change…Let her have that,” he said as the waitress returned.
The man’s words had him conflicted as hell. Was he right? It was a tough concept for Asher to grasp. He planned on playing hockey until they kicked him out and he wore out his last set of blades, whether he was the star or not.
Didn’t he?
“Here you are. Two mocha peppermint lattes with a vanilla swirl and double shot of espresso with a candy cane stick on the side,” the waitress said, placing two steaming, frothy mugs in front of them.
The scent of coffee, chocolate, peppermint, and a hint of vanilla reached his nose and Asher relaxed a little. “This is your usual?”
Frank raised his mug and grinned over the steam. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, man.”
Asher laughed wryly as he picked up his own mug, thinking maybe the coach was right about more than he’d been ready to give him credit for.
He owed his best friend an apology.
Shit, he owed her a hell of a lot more than that.
* * *
“Is there anything I can help you find?”
Emma turned to the salesclerk inside the boutique in the village with a forced smile. “No, thank you. I’m actually just killing time,” she said. Two hours since storming away from Asher, she’d yet to clear the argument from her head or rid herself of the uneasiness in her stomach. They never fought. So this odd feeling of not quite knowing what to do next had her wandering aimlessly through the village.
“Well, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“Will do. Thanks,” she said, browsing the Christmas ornaments on the wall of the shop. Every store she’d wandered into was playing Christmas music, and their displays and décor were warm and inviting, a reminder that the holiday was just a week away. Each store had similar products—Christmas ornaments, scented candles, body lotions in beautiful packaging, cozy knitted scarves…
She was barely seeing any of it, replaying Asher’s words.
Can’t let fear hold her back.
She could if it meant not getting her heart broken. She’d put her feelings for him out there and had gotten nothing back.
She wouldn’t be making that mistake with regard to her former career. She’d thought the risk had been worth it for Asher.
His insistence over her competing again confused her. He’d been there through the days following her accident…he’d been there in the years since. He had to know she’d really moved on. Maybe he just didn’t want to accept that. It was as though he couldn’t see her for more than just the pro athlete she’d once been.
Her chest ached and the pain deepened as her eye caught an ornament of a cute couple—him carrying skates, her carrying skis—with the caption “Our First Christmas Together.”
God…she’d been hoping.
Moving away from the taunting wall, she noticed a selection of snow globes in a glass display case. She wondered if Ash had bought anything for his mother for Christmas yet.
Probably not. Every year they all received New Jersey Devils logo gifts he’d obviously purchased from the arena gift shop…about two weeks after Christmas.
The globes were beautiful, and she knew Beverly had a collection of them…
Not her problem.
Asher could do his own damn shopping.
Still, she lingered at the display case. “Excuse me,” she asked the clerk. “Can I see this snow globe?” Sigh.
The young woman, wearing a gingerbread-themed smock over a red turtleneck, gingerbread men earrings dangling from her ears, approached with the display case key. “Sure. Which one?”
“Um…the one with the family having a snowball fight.” Three little boys and a girl. Just like the Westmores. Beverly would love it for the collection.
“This one just came in, and there was only one. It must be your lucky day.”
Hardly. “Yeah, must be.”
The salesclerk carefully removed it from the case and handed it to her. “It’s so beautiful. It plays three different holiday songs, and the base lights up from the bottom as it rotates,” she said.
Emma stared at the children playing inside. It would make the perfect gift for Beverly. Despite her annoyance with Ash, there was no way she could leave the store without it. “I’ll take it.”
The salesclerk beamed, taking it from her and going to the register. “Are you here on vacation or as part of the tour?” she asked as she wrapped it in paper before sliding it into a box.
Emma swallowed hard. More like an unwelcome trip down memory lane. “Vacation,” she mumbled.
“The competitions are great. If you have time, you should definitely check them out,” the young woman said, ringing in the sale.
Emma nodded politely as she paid for the snow globe. Could she watch them? Already, just being there was making her doubt her own resolve to having moved on. What would it feel like to watch other competitors, with Asher’s words plaguing her? “Thank you,” she said, taking the bag.
“Merry Christmas,” the clerk said as she exited the store.
She zipped her coat higher as she headed down the sidewalk, back toward the ski hill where she’d ditched Asher. She had to find him. She couldn’t make him walk back to the resort on his leg. At least the therapist in her couldn’t.
Her cell phone rang in her coat
pocket and she stopped on the corner to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hey, Emma?”
The sound of Sean Whitney’s voice made her heart race. She’d yet to send him an email regarding her decision to wait until September enrollment. Even in her anger that morning, she still believed waiting was the best thing. “Yes, hi, Sean.”
“Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“Um…I’ve got a second.” She lifted her scarf higher around her neck as the shade of the building blocking the midday sun made the temperature drop by several degrees.
“I haven’t heard back from you yet, and I don’t mean to pressure you, but I’m going to need an answer about the early enrollment,” he said, his voice breaking up slightly in the less than ideal reception in the valley.
She sighed. He deserved an answer, and she felt terrible for having put him off this long. “I really appreciate your patience. Unfortunately, I think I’ll have to stick to my original timeline of a September start date next year.”
He cleared his throat. “Emma, unfortunately, the September acceptance letters went out two weeks ago. The program is full for the fall. I honestly expected you to join us in the new year. That’s the spot reserved for you.”
Her heart fell. September was full. It was January or nothing.
“Oh…”
“Of course, your name can be added to the course waiting list, but there’s no guarantee.”
“Not like January.”
“Exactly. Sorry, if I’d known sooner…”
“No, please don’t apologize. It’s my fault for taking so long to decide.” She hesitated, biting her lip. Her gaze fell on the mountain, and from the distance she could see the competitors warming up for that day’s events. She watched the multicolored figures swishing down the slopes, the fresh, perfect-condition powder tearing up behind their boards.
“January is fast, I know…but why wait?” Sean continued in her extended silence. “We’d love to have you here.” Anyone could detect the double meaning in his tone. His obvious interest was one of the things actually making her choice that much harder.
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