On the Slopes of Tahoe (Love Along the Way #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Rory

T here’s a loud pounding in my head. That tequila shot was maybe not my best idea… or maybe it was. I run my tongue over my bottom lip. It’s not as kiss-swollen as it was last night, but considering it’s only—

I glance at my clock and see it’s eight a.m. Ugh. I’ve been in bed for less than 7 hours… why am I awake? The pounding resumes and I realize it’s not inside my head but at my door. For the love of all that is holy, isn’t there a rule against knocking on someone’s door at eight o’clock the morning after New Year’s?

I roll over, hiding my face in the pillow to drown out the pounding. For goodness’ sake. I sit up, smacking my hands down beside me on the heavy down comforter. It better be a freaking emergency. I push my feet into my white fuzzy slippers, then I stomp down every single step to the main landing.

Swinging open the door with a huff, I almost stumble into Jamie. There’s a wicked grin on his face and two paper cups held in his gloved hands. I give him my best glare and stand aside to let him in.

“What are you doing here, Jameson?” I lace my words with venom, but the smell of coffee wafts behind him and my brain gives up on the missed sleep.

“Oooh, feeling a little snippy this morning, are you, Roars?” he teases.

I growl at him—like, literally growl. He knows I hate that nickname. Jamie might be as good as family, but that’s crossing the line.

“I thought you might be in a better mood this morning…” His eyes trail down my pajamas and back up to my messy hair. “Considering the night you had.”

I narrow my eyes and reach for the cup in his hand, but he pulls it away—hovering it above his head. Stupid tall man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it just seemed like you and a particular Aussie were having a rather enjoyable time.”

I blanch, stumbling mid-jump for the cup. “What?” I let out a sound that sits somewhere between a croak and a squeak.

“Rory, Rory, Rory,” he chides, dipping his eyebrows and smirking. “Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you? We both know the kind of creatures this town sees during the holidays.”

Shifting my gaze away, I chew the edge of my thumb. Busted.

“You saw the shots?” I flick my eyes up, and his grin is knowing. Smug bastard. I slap his chest. “Jamie! Just tell me what you saw. And give me my coffee.”

He laughs, deep and throaty, and lowers the cup to me. “So bossy this morning. To answer your question, I saw you dancing and, yes, I saw the shots.” He wags his eyebrows at me suggestively. “Then I watched him haul you off toward the back of the bar like a man on a mission.”

“And you just let him run off with me? What if I didn’t want to go?” I volley back, knowing I never would’ve forgiven him if he’d interrupted us.

“Oh please, you’re a grown woman and you went willingly—very willingly, from the look of it. Am I wrong?”

I hide my face by taking a very large gulp of very hot coffee and end up spluttering it down my pajama top. Jamie just laughs again.

“Fine. No. You’re not wrong.” I stick my tongue out at him, not feeling overly mature this morning.

“Care to spill? I brought your jacket, by the way,” he adds, lifting his arm that does, in fact, have a jacket draped over it. Oh shit. I completely forgot about it. It was definitely cold on the walk home last night, but between the tequila and the heat from our kiss, I hardly even noticed.

“His too.” He raises his eyebrows and hangs them both on the hook by the door. His smirk is like a permanent fixture on his face at this point, the auburn whiskers of his beard twitching each time it grows.

“Thank you for grabbing them. How was your night? You and that blonde looked pretty cozy.” I change the subject, preferring when he’s in the hot seat, which is standard.

He blushes under his scruffy beard.

“Oh-ho, good night then. Sorry you were left hauling our jackets when you likely had other, better things to do with your hands.” I sip my coffee to hide my smile. “Thank you for this, by the way.”

“Welcome. And yes, it was a good night.”

I pause to look him up and down. “Oh my god, you didn’t go home? Did you sneak out of that poor woman’s hotel room to get me coffee?” I’m not actually that surprised, ladies’ man that he is.

He shrugs. “Sort of. I mean, I was leaving regardless. I wasn’t exactly sneaking out. She knew the deal when she took me home with her.”

“Uh-huh, and you thought you’d just come here and wake me up too?”

“I’m honestly shocked you were still asleep. Don’t you have breakfast with your family in half an hour?”

The color drains from my face. Crap.

“No, no, no. I totally forgot. Thank god for you.” I press up on my toes and kiss his cheek. “I have to get ready. Are you coming? You might want to change…”

“Do you want me to come?” He gives me a loaded look.

I know his ask is genuine, but after last night, after finally doing something for myself, I feel a tiny bit steadier at the prospect of seeing my parents. Plus, Wes and Joss will be there, and Willow and Breck too.

I blush at the thought of Breck. Jamie must notice because his knowing grin is back.

“No, I’ll be okay. Thank you though. Go home and take a shower. You’re a mess,” I tease, shaking my head. His hair is tousled and there’s a smudge of lipstick on his collar.

“If you need me, just call, okay?” He lifts his coffee my way before heading back out into the cold.

I have to get ready, and I have less than thirty minutes to do it.

I’m jogging down the stairs to pull my boots on when there’s more knocking at my door. Who is it now?

“Coming,” I call as I skid to a stop and yank it open.

“Morning.” Breck’s smile tilts up on one side, allowing just one of those perfect dimples to pop, making me weak in the knees. He has his hands pushed deep in his jeans pockets, and he looks like he’s freezing .

“M-morning,” I stutter, feeling a warmth spread across my cheeks. “What’re you doing here?”

I force my eyes away from the face of the man who kissed me senseless against a wall last night and focus on the smiling little girl beside him. She’s bouncing on her toes and is wearing the bear-eared hat I bought for her.

“Thought we could all drive together to breakfast. You know, for the environment.” His smile quirks up a little higher, like there’s definitely more to this invite than saving the sea turtles.

“I’d love that.”

“Can you sit in the back with me, Rory?” Willow asks, and I smile brighter. She’s really good for my ego.

“Sure thing, Bug,” I say, giving Breck a shrug that says There’s no saying no to her, is there?

I slip my boots over my dark jeans and pull my heavy puffer jacket on over the bright purple sweater I chose for today. It’s cut low in the front and hugs my body in a way that makes me feel flirty and sexy. It would appear Breck likes it too, from the way his eyes follow my zipper with rapt attention.

He clears his throat. “Ready to go?”

I grab his jacket from the hook and gently push it into his chest. “Yup.” I smirk at the look of surprise on his face. “Jamie grabbed them for us last night. Since we left, um, rather hastily.”

He looks down at my hands and his lips twitch. “Oh. Well, great. Thank you.”

There’s a thick tension in the air when we all pile into the Jeep. My attention is focused on Willow’s retelling of yesterday’s festivities, but Breck and I sharing the same space comes with desire and want that shouldn’t be here in the light of day.

The restaurant we’re meeting at for breakfast is nestled between the semi-frozen lake and a forest of deep-green pines. I’m desperate to capture the mountains in the distance, the blue of the lake, the clouds gliding low across the horizon. I wish I brought my camera, even though I know it would’ve led to more commentary from my parents.

We follow a hostess to a table in the far corner, away from other diners. Everyone else is already here and seated, and they turn our way as we approach. Breck takes a chair next to Wes, and Willow immediately takes the one next to Joss. So much for the idea of putting some space between us today. I slip my coat off and drop into my seat, carefully avoiding brushing my arm against Breck’s.

“No Jamie this morning, Rory?” Mom inquires from the other end of the table. At least I’m not sitting next to her or Dad.

I busy myself with my menu when I answer. “Nope. He swung by the condo early this morning to drop off my jacket”—I shoot a sidelong glance at Breck—“and he was still in last night’s clothes. I think he was headed home for a nap.”

“Well done, Jamie,” Wes jokes, eliciting laughs from everyone. Well, almost everyone. Mom’s huff of displeasure doesn’t fit in. When will she finally get it through her head that Jamie and I are never going to be a thing?

“What did you guys get up to after we left?” Jaz asks from across the table, and I school my features. Don’t blush, do not blush. Breck’s thigh presses against mine under the table, and I know I’ve lost the battle.

“Jamie dragged us to a bar to go dancing.” I play it off like it wasn’t really my idea. Breck’s thigh shifts. Does he know what he’s doing to me right now?

“Did you stay out until midnight for the fireworks? We caught some of the show from our room.” Wes yawns.

“Uh…” I look at Breck, feeling Joss watching me intently.

“Yeah,” Breck says. “There were definitely fireworks.”

He doesn’t look at me, but I hear the implication behind his words and hope no one else does.

“We passed out before they happened.” Jaz pouts, and Paul wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Luckily we don’t have to wait long for the Australia Day fireworks over the bridge. I’ll make sure you have the best seat in the house,” he says, and Jaz smiles, sinking closer into his side.

“Will you guys be home by then?” Jaz asks Breck and Willow, and I hate the way my stomach drops. I don’t want to think about them leaving. It’s been hard enough with Wes on the other side of the world.

“I need to check our return flights, but they’re somewhere in that time frame.” Breck’s voice is tight. Maybe he isn’t ready to think about leaving just yet either.

“Rory, when do you start back to work?” Dad asks, and my shoulders sag. Even with everything else going on and a dozen more interesting topics at his disposal, this is what he chooses?

“Monday. I took this whole week off.” I was off last week too, not wanting to miss a minute with Wes and Joss.

“Do you really need the whole week? Wes and Joss leave this afternoon,” Dad says, eyebrows pulling down into his typical disappointed scowl.

“Dad, she deserves a break. She never takes vacation,” Wes interjects.

“Is it really a vacation when she’s just sitting at home? Why not go to work if she’s going to be here anyway,” Mom adds, teaming up with Dad—just like I knew she would.

“Just because you guys never take a day off doesn’t mean that’s how everyone wants to live their lives,” Wes shoots back, and Mom stiffens. It’s rare anyone talks back to her, but he is not having it this morning. I don’t know what words they exchanged yesterday after I left dinner, but Wes is unusually prickly toward our parents today.

“As long as she isn’t filling her time with silly elopements and photography dreams.” Mom’s voice drips with disdain. “She knows better than that. She’s smarter than that.”

It’s like a slap to the face. It’s nothing new, and I shouldn’t be shocked, but…

“That’s enough. Please stop. You’re ruining our breakfast.” Wes glances at Joss, whose eyes are on me, full of concern.

She mouths, I’m sorry , as if this is somehow her fault.

Mom sits back in her chair, shoulders squared and lips tight. “My apologies,” my dad starts. “I didn’t realize the question would cause such a stir.” Condescending, infuriating man. “Are you two ready for your honeymoon? I’m sure New Zealand will be wonderful this time of year.”

The conversation falls back to a normal rhythm, though a bit more formal and awkward than before. I just sit quietly, ruminating over Mom’s words.

She’s smarter than that.

Smarter than what? Smarter than to do what I want with my own life? I guess so, since I never have. I stare blankly at my plate, not listening to the words flowing around me. It’s like I’m sitting in a little sound-proof bubble, invisible and unnecessary to anything happening right now.

The bubble bursts when a hand finds mine—balled into a fist, fingernails nearly puncturing my palm—under the table. This one is strong, masculine. I glance to my right and find Breck staring down at me. There’s concern etched into his features as he tilts his head, a silent question.

Are you okay?

An infinitesimal shake of my head is all I can muster, but I know he sees it because he squeezes my hand. I can’t sit here anymore. As casually as I can, I place my napkin on the table and excuse myself. I go to the bathroom, but even after washing my hands with hot water for a full two minutes, I still don’t want to go back out there. I settle for pacing up and down the corridor instead. At least I can get my steps in.

Breck doesn’t say anything when he finds me, just lets me walk it off.

“They’re always like that, yeah?” he asks, and there’s no judgment. He’s giving me an opening.

“Yeah. Pretty much. With me at least. Wes can do no wrong in their eyes.” I look up and backpedal. “Well, it’s more like Wes was always going to do what he wanted, and they were always too busy to get involved. Wes wants to go to college in San Diego? Sure. He wants to spend his last two years of college in Sydney? Sure. He wants to join the Navy and fly fighter jets? Of course.”

I bite my cheek and shrug. “I never got that lax attitude. Never got to apply to that out-of-state school. Big no to majoring in photojournalism and becoming a travel photographer.” I smile, but it’s tired. “So what did I do? I got a job—one that uses my degree, pays me well, and has one of their friends as my boss. And it’s still not good enough. I should be writing for a publication, using my degree ‘for real.’ It never mattered what Wes did, so long as he was doing something. But what I’ve done has never been enough.”

I slump against the wall, defeated. Breck’s footfalls bring him to the space next to me, and I’m grateful not to be alone, even though I’m already reeling at how much I just shared. Of all people, he doesn’t need my crap laid at his feet. My problems must seem so trivial to him.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining about this to you. I’m fine, really, let’s go back.” I push off the wall, but his hands grasp my waist and pull me back to him. “Breck… What… What’re you doing?”

“Taking your mind off your shitty parents.” He threads one hand in my hair and pulls me closer, feathering his lips against mine. It’s not a kiss. It’s a tease—like they aren’t right there.

“Someone could see us,” I say, keeping my lips a hair’s breadth from his.

“So I only have a minute then.” He runs his nose along my jaw until it’s right under my ear. “Is the distraction working?”

“Yea—yes.” I stumble over the words, unable to believe this is happening. Last night felt like a fluke, a stupid mistake after too much tequila—but this? This feels intentional and so, so good.

“If we only get a minute, will you kiss me?” My voice shakes and Breck inhales against my neck.

“You smell so good. How do you smell so good?”

I laugh under my breath, my chest moving against his. I’ll be damned if I admit to putting on this perfume because I thought he might like it.

“A laugh. Good, my plan is working.” He watches me, eyes intent on my face, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

I’m still wondering if he’s going to kiss me. Really kiss me. Kiss me like he did last night. Like a man starved, searching for something he’s been without for far too long. Instead, he just draws a thumb over my lips.

“Still want that kiss?” he asks, holding my gaze.

I nod once, and in the second between that nod and his movement to close the distance, voices carry to us from just beyond the hallway. I jump back like there’s a snake at my feet and nearly collide with the wall behind me.

“Hey, guys,” Joss says.

“Hey,” Breck and I say in unison. Smooth .

“Everything okay?” Wes looks from Breck to me.

“Yup. Was just coming back,” I say, walking down the hall toward them, away from Breck who’s leaning oh-so-casually against the wall. I squeeze Wes’s shoulder as I pass, but before I turn the corner, I flick my eyes to Breck only to find him watching me as well, a small smile on his lips.