Mad Love 2

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Mad Love 2 Page 23

by Colet Abedi


  He closes his eyes.

  “I’m free up here. And when I ski down the hill, it’s liberating.”

  “It sounds like you have way too much stress in your life,” I say to him.

  He gives me a smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “No, if your one moment of relaxation comes from sitting on a ski lift in Switzerland, there is much to be desired any way you look at it.” The words come out before I can stop myself.

  I wait for his teasing response but I don’t get one. Instead he looks away from me and out toward the endless pine trees.

  “Perhaps.”

  I’m surprised he admits it.

  “It’s hard not to get caught up,” I tell him gently. “But you need to have more moments for yourself. Ones that liberate you and make you feel good right at home. I think now more than ever.”

  “You make me feel good.” I look at him and his passionate gaze burns into mine.

  His words make me so happy that if I could I’d run around the snow-covered hills in joy like Fraulein Maria in The Sound of Music.

  “And there are times when you make me really mad,” he goes on.

  The Sound of Music scenario comes to a screeching halt.

  “Like when?”

  “Now,” he answers.

  I look at him in surprise.

  “Wearing that outfit that fits your body so well it’s like a second skin,” he says with passion. “I saw the way the men were looking at you.”

  My skin tingles.

  “You have got to be kidding me—”

  “No,” he continues. I fidget under the fire shooting from his eyes. “Do you know how it makes me feel? To see their desire?”

  “For now, I’m with you,” I remind him.

  “For now?” He lifts a brow.

  I turn away from him and look out on the valley.

  “Let’s not ruin our time,” I say.

  He reaches out and takes hold of my ponytail and turns my head to face him.

  “You belong to me.”

  God.

  I love it when he says that to me. He leans forward and captures my mouth for a kiss that leaves me breathless.

  When he finally pulls away we’re reaching the first drop-off point.

  “We’ll get off here,” Clayton tells me.

  “Go the right,” he orders as he holds on to his poles. I grip mine like my life depends on them, which it kind of does. I’m not going to lie.

  My heart pounds as the lift rounds the corner and we’re forced to get off.

  I can’t do it.

  The lift is moving too fast. Oh. My. God.

  “Now, Sophie.” Clayton gets off and skis to the left. He thinks I’m following him. But instead, I freeze.

  And the lift keeps on going up.

  I close my eyes before turning around and watching as Clayton waves at me in surprise from the side of the hill. I look behind me and see that Orie’s gotten off but Erik has stayed on the chair and is coming up with me.

  He lifts his hands in the air like I’m a complete moron.

  Mortifying!

  “That was classic!” he yells out.

  I give him the finger and turn around. My face is so hot it might go up in flames.

  Cat’s out of the bag, Sophie.

  How am I ever going to get off this lift, I think to myself. I can feel my heartbeat race uncontrollably as we near the top. I’m going to have to jump; there’s no other choice.

  When the lift reaches the landing I close my eyes and practically throw myself off. I ski-stumble unceremoniously off the lift and toward the take-off point. Since I can’t seem to stop, I squat down until I’m fully seated on the ground.

  I feel the slush of the cold snow against my bum.

  Erik expertly skis right up to me.

  He’s bent over, laughing hysterically.

  “It is so not funny,” I tell him in anger.

  “If you saw what I saw, you would think it was,” he tells me.

  “You should have seen the look on Clayton’s face when you didn’t get off the lift,” he says in glee., “I don’t think he’s ever seen someone do that before.”

  “I hate you,” I reply.

  How am I going to face Clayton?

  The bigger question is how are you going to get down the mountain?

  “It’s all your fault,” I remind him.

  “I thought you’d be smart enough to just stay at the lodge,” Erik fights his smile.

  He reaches out his hand.

  “Let me help you up.”

  “What’s the point?” I say as I look down the monstrosity of the hill.

  “If I attempt to ski down that thing I’m going to break my neck and die,” I tell him. “I might as well slide down on my butt.”

  “Why not see if you can take the lift back down,” Erik says.

  “I’m terrified of the lift,” I tell him. “I don’t like it.”

  Erik bursts out laughing again and has to lean on his knees.

  “It moves too fast,” I mutter.

  It starts to snow.

  Just great.

  We’re going from bad to worse.

  “I wish you could see yourself right now!”

  “Thankfully, I can’t,” I tell him as I firmly sit down now in between my two skis.

  “Just leave me here,” I say dramatically. “I’ll find my way down, and if I don’t, think of me fondly.”

  Erik rolls his eyes. “You are ridiculous.”

  “I’m mortified,” I tell him. “Clayton must think I’m a complete idiot. How am I going to face him again?”

  “Well, you’re going to have to in about ten seconds,” Erik says as he looks past me.

  Oh no. Just great.

  Clayton skis up to us and takes one look at Erik then at me and bends over in laughter. Erik practically falls. I don’t dare look at either of them.

  “Are you guys done?”

  “No,” Erik tells me as he wipes away tears.

  I’ve never seen Clayton laugh so hard. I’d be really happy about it if it wasn’t at my expense.

  He squats down next to me, perfectly balanced in his skis, takes one of his gloves off and rubs his knuckles across my cheek.

  I’m too embarrassed to look at him.

  “Sophie,” he says huskily. “You holding onto the edge of the lift and refusing to get off was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  His chest rumbles with mirth.

  “I’m sure,” I say in embarrassment as I finally look at him. When I see the joy on his face I can’t hold back my smile.

  “So you can’t ski?” he deduces.

  “No,” I’m forced to admit. I look over his shoulder and give my best friend the stink eye for putting me in this situation in the first place.

  “Why did you pretend you could?” Clayton asks curiously.

  “I wanted to impress you,” I say truthfully.

  “I don’t think you could impress me anymore than you already have, Sophie.” His voice is gruff as he leans in to kiss me on my lips.

  18

  A few hours later, I’m dressing in one of the outfits Erik made me buy at the shop today. It’s just a simple pair of skinny black jeans and a fitted black turtleneck, but the material is wonderful on the skin. I put on a pair of my new thick Moncler puff boots over the jeans and grab a jacket. Since I’m all alone now, I’m going to take my Kindle and go down to the lodge, read, have a drink, and hopefully forget about my cringe worth experience attempting to ski.

  Poor Clayton was forced to help me down the hill. It was slow and painful. He tried to teach me some moves, to help me let go of my fear of falling and breaking my neck or leg, but I was too cold to pay attention. And I told him as much.

  He finally gave up and had ski patrol (how embarrassing) help us both down. He didn’t have to say it but I know he wasn’t too excited about g
etting in the ski patrol vehicle with me. When we were finally back at the lodge I begged him to go enjoy himself and I promised I’d go straight to the room and take a bath. Since I knew he was dying to have some proper runs, he left me and joined Erik and Orie for real skiing.

  I leave a note telling Clayton where I am, grab my stuff, and head down to the hotel bar where everyone seemed to be congregated when I came in. I take a look around at the crowd and decide I’ll take the opportunity to check out the famous Palace Hotel. I have the hotel car take me over.

  When I arrive, I’m happy with my decision. I remember to text Clayton, Erik, and Orie to let them know that I changed locations.

  The hotel is more old school and there’s a great vibe. I find one of the older, cozy bars and sit down on a comfortable couch, order a drink, and start to read.

  I’m thoroughly immersed in a book that was recommended to me by Michael Sinclair, Dying to Be Me by Anita Moorjani. It’s the story of a woman who had stage four lymphoma and went to heaven and came back. And completely cured herself. It’s one of the most inspirational books I’ve ever read.

  “If it isn’t my favorite American.” To my horror, it’s Davis, sneering at me from the couch opposite me.

  He looks just the same as he did when I last saw him. Drunk. Except this time he has two friends tagging who both also seem to be wasted.

  “Hello, Davis,” I say politely.

  “Hello,” he responds snidely. “Funny, I don’t remember your name. ‘Hired help,’ was it?”

  I try not to laugh. He’s so lame.

  “Why, yes, it is,” I reply with a smile.

  It would feel so good to throw my drink at his arrogant little face.

  “I’m flattered you remember,” I say as I lift my glass of red wine and take a sip.

  My dad always taught me the best way to respond to someone who insults you is to laugh it off. When you outwardly seem so unaffected by someone’s mean words you take away the satisfaction the person gets from the sting of their cruel words.

  And it works, because Davis looks annoyed that I’m not the least bit offended by his comment.

  “Clive and Douglas, please meet Clayton’s latest plaything,” Davis says.

  “Stop!” I laugh. “You’re flattering me, Davis.”

  Davis’ face turns red with anger. It’s fun to watch.

  His friends look a lot like him. And have the same awful disposition. “What’s your real name?” the one with the short brown hair, Douglas, I think, asks. He has beady eyes. I hate beady eyes.

  “If you’re not comfortable calling me ‘hired help,’ Sophie works just fine,” I reply straight-faced.

  The two men laugh.

  “She’s a fetching one,” the one I think is Clive says. “And she’s got a sense of humor.”

  “Yes, she does,” I say with wide eyes. “Imagine that?”

  Clearly they find me vastly amusing.

  I decide that it’s probably a good idea for me to leave and go back to our hotel. One thing is for certain, I don’t want to be in Davis’s company anymore. And two, remembering how furious Clayton was the last time I mentioned Davis’s name I can’t even imagine what he’d do if he found him sitting across from me. Given Clayton’s current state of mind, I’m pretty certain that Davis would take the brunt of his aggression.

  “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me,” I say as I motion for the waiter to pay my bill. “I must leave you to your own devices.”

  “Why so soon, little rabbit?” Davis says with a challenge.

  “ “Clayton and my friends are waiting for me,” I answer.

  “We can see you back to the hotel,” Douglas suggests.

  In your dreams, I think to myself.

  “That’s quite alright,” I tell him. “You guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll be sure to tell Clayton I saw you.”

  I only say the last part to get a scare out of Davis and from the way his eyes round I can tell that it works. I don’t like the way his friends are staring at me and now I’m getting scared that they might follow me to the hotel. Or worse, accost me again.

  Just as the waiter brings me my tab I catch a glimpse of Clayton, Erik, and Orie entering the bar. The handsome trio turns some heads. I’m glad to see they seem relaxed. Clayton even has a look of contentment on his face. Given my last encounter with Davis, and his entourage, I am really relieved to see them. Now I don’t have to worry about being followed or stalked by him and his awful friends.

  I wave at Clayton and he sees me and gives me a seductive smile that makes my heart pound and the three head my way.

  And then he catches sight of Davis.

  Oh crap.

  In less than two seconds he goes from looking like he’s in a good mood to looking furious. The anger etched on his face has me worried.

  “Clayton just arrived,” I say. I hope Davis runs.

  But the little shit doesn’t. His face just contorts in rage.

  Sorry asshole, I think to myself, I tried to warn you. I almost pity him.

  Almost.

  “Sophie,” Clayton says as he reaches the couch. I stand up and walk right into his embrace. I feel better instantly.

  “Hi,” I reply as I wrap my arm around his waist. “Look who I just ran into.”

  His body feels like it’s made of stone. I hold him tightly.

  “Davis.” Clayton says him name with a great deal of contempt.

  To his credit, Davis starts to look uncomfortable by the looks Clayton’s giving him. I watch with satisfaction how he seems to squirm.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry?” Davis says with mock surprise. “I hadn’t realized you bought the Palace Hotel. I don’t remember reading about that.”

  I smile nervously at Clayton. “I was sitting here and Davis and his friends sat across from me. Small world, huh?”

  “Small world?” he grits out to me. He’s seething. It’s oozing from his body. He obviously doesn’t believe me.

  I take Clayton’s hand in mine.

  “Everything is okay,” I assure him.

  I look over at Erik and Orie for support but because I told them about my experience with Davis they don’t look like they will be much help in containing Clayton.

  “Davis, have you ever seen the show To Catch a Predator?” Erik asks in a cold voice.

  Oh shit.

  “Erik—” I begin, but the look he gives stops me cold.

  “I’m sorry?” Davis has the audacity to look offended.

  “To Catch a Predator,” Erik repeats. “Have you seen it?”

  Davis’s eyes are cold with fury.

  “I don’t like the question.”

  “What I don’t like that is you being in the vicinity of my best friend,” Erik says protectively.

  I lean over and take Erik’s hand in mine and squeeze it. “Let’s just—” I begin.

  “Sophie,” he turns angry eyes on me. “Don’t even start.”

  I’m sure that my surprise is written on my face. I’ve never seen Erik look so pissed off before. Or aggressive. He is usually calm and collected. Even Orie, who is usually the voice of reason, looks like he wants to bash Davis’s face in.

  Davis stands abruptly in outrage and his two friends flank him. They look like the axis of evil. He takes a menacing step closer to Erik, who thankfully is a good head taller and looks down at him.

  “Are you insulting me?” he asks.

  “Took you long enough,” Erik smiles. “Not the brightest tool in the shed, are you?”

  In less than a second Davis grabs hold of Erik’s shirt and shakes him in fury. Clayton pushes me behind his body, moves forward, takes Davis’s collar, and literally lifts him off the ground.

  “Clayton!”

  I grab hold of his muscular arm. A quick look around confirms that the entire bar is staring at us. I see the bartender motion to the discreet-looking security.

 
; “Let me,” Erik begs Clayton.

  “Let you what?” Clive sneers.

  Erik narrows his eyes.

  “That’s just rich,” Clive says, then he looks at Erik and starts to laugh.

  Oh no.

  In a second mayhem breaks loose.

  I watch in horror as my best friend throws back his arm and punches the douche right in the face. Clive hits the ground and Douglas clumsily rushes Erik. But before Douglas can get in a punch, Clayton shoves him into a piece of furniture.

  I jump up and am ready to get in on this and kick Clive in the shin when I’m roughly pulled back and forcefully shoved aside by security. Unfortunately for them and for me, I crash right into a table face-first, feel drinks spill over me, and black out.

  When I come to, I’m lying on a bed in a clinic. It takes me a few moments to remember what just occurred.

  Oh no.

  I sit up quickly and wince from the pain in my shoulder and chin.

  “Thank God!” Orie says and jumps up from his chair and rushes over to me. He looks down at my face with wide eyes.

  “You won’t need plastic surgery,” he assures me. “But that bruise on your chin is deadly. But I have some good cover-up for it.”

  “Bruise?” I say as I touch my chin and feel the god-awful pain.

  “They gave you good drugs, don’t worry.”

  “Where is everyone?” I ask him when realize that we’re the only two in the room.

  “If by everyone you mean my man and yours—” Orie says.

  I nod.

  “They’re in jail.”

  “Oh my God!” I sit up again and try to swing my legs over the side of the bed. The wave of nausea is unreal.

  “No sudden movements!” Orie warns. “Don’t worry, Clayton’s attorneys will have them out in no time, just as long as he pays for the damage to the hotel.”

  “You’re not joking, are you?” I ask Orie as I hold my head. I feel like someone punched me in the face.

  Not someone.

  A table.

  Orie puts his strong arms around me. “Do I look worried?”

  I look at his countenance.

  “No,” I shake my head. “You don’t at all.”

  “Because the entire police station is filled with people Clayton called who I guess are at his beck and call here. And they’re going to crazy town. They are mad.”

 

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