CHAPTER SIX DIEGO
CHAPTER SIX
DIEGO
I think I’m about to hurl my entire breakfast in the nearest bush.
If I’d known that standing at Alara’s front door would make me so nervous, I would have refused her offer of a lift to the resort. I can’t recall the last time my heart was beating this fast, on the brink of battering its way out of my goddamn body.
Because I’m car-less and Gaby’s shift started early, she couldn’t drop me off at the resort like she did yesterday, and bothering Mom for a ride is not an option with how busy she is.
Yesterday, as we were packing up everything at the lodge, I randomly mentioned my situation to Alara, and she didn’t miss a beat in offering to carpool.
I told her I would meet her at her house, so that it would give me the opportunity to take a five-minute walk from home to her place and get some fresh air.
So here I am, standing at her front door, nervous as shit, like I’m about to pick her up for a date.
Pathetic, I know.
As I finally gather the courage to ring the doorbell, the door abruptly opens, and I rear back in surprise. I come face to face with Joe, who looks like he’s headed out – most likely to open up Rock Snow.
He grins. “Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”
During our call yesterday evening, I forgot to mention the arrangement I’d made with his daughter. I was too focused on the relief that was washing over me after I’d apologized to him. He understands my feelings, my reactions, and I’m really thankful that he’s so considerate and open-minded.
If only Coach could be this empathic . . .
I raise my hand in an awkward wave as his wife comes to stand in the doorway, wrapping a blue scarf around her neck. “Hey, Joe. Donna.”
“How are you?” Donna asks sweetly. I don’t see her as often as I see Joe, even though she also owns Rock Snow. Because she has the luxury of working remotely, she prefers staying home. Though that doesn’t stop her from popping in and saying hi at least once a day.
Maybe I could bribe her into hiring me to do her paperwork? That would help me avoid doing all that annoying bullshit I’m tasked to do at the shop.
“I’m okay,” I answer, stepping aside to let them walk out on the porch.
While Donna is locking up, Joe turns to me. “How’s physiotherapy going?”
“Pretty good. I’ve only been to four sessions so far, but Dr Ellis is great.” If all goes well, my recovery will go smoothly, and I’m confident enough to think that I’ll be able to leave sooner than planned. I’ll do everything I can to make my time here shorter.
Dr Ellis is the type of physiotherapist who’s nice and uplifting, but not the type to give me hope just to make me feel better. He’s been fully transparent since our first session, and he thinks it’ll take at least a month and a half for me to recover.
That’s fine. My left eye didn’t twitch at all when he told me that.
If I work hard enough, he’ll notice my progress and, hopefully, he’ll give me the green light to snowboard again.
“He is,” Donna confirms brightly. “Are you here to see Jordan? He has his own place now.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Actually, I’m meeting Alara.” I decide to ignore the weighted look Donna and Joe exchange, and settle my gaze on the beautiful wreath hung on the white door. “We agreed on carpooling to the resort.”
“Good thinking,” Joe says. “It’ll be easier for you to get to Rock Snow in time for your afternoon shift.”
“That’s the idea.”
He claps a hand on my good shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “It’s good to see you determined, son.” My chest expands at the sound of this word, causing an unwanted lump to build inside my throat. Instantly, I think of Dad and how the last time he called me ‘son’ was a few days before he passed.
Man, I miss him.
Joe and I aren’t extremely close, but I can sense that he’s protective of me for some unfathomable reason.
On the other hand, I’ve known Coach Wilson for almost a decade, and our relationship is so drastically different.
He appreciates me on his best days, but he keeps me at arm’s length.
Stays emotionally distant because he’s my coach, and I’m just his best rider.
So, hearing the clear affection in Joe’s tone makes me realize that I’ve missed having a fatherly figure in my life.
“Keep working hard. You’ll get there,” Joe says.
I nod, taking a shaky breath in. “Yes, sir.”
If he notices the emotion brimming my eyes, he doesn’t let on. “I’ll see you later.”
Donna brushes past me, and I follow her down the steps.
“Alara lives in the cabin in the backyard. She wants to be independent, and since Jordan moved out of there, we figured it’d be good for her to have her own place.
We didn’t renovate it for it to be vacant, right?
Anyway, just go past the gate and knock on her door. I imagine she’s expecting you anyway.”
“I’m ten minutes early,” I say coyly.
“Good. For some reason, being late is one of her biggest pet peeves.” Donna smiles, opening the passenger-side door while Joe is busy heating up the car. “Have a lovely day, sweetie.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Why do the Bradfords all have to be so goddamn nice and laid back? They make it so hard for me to be resentful, despite knowing they’re all in on Coach’s evil plan.
I knock the moment I’m standing in front of Alara’s cabin, using my unoccupied hand.
The cabin is quite big, with icicle lights hanging over the facade, a bench on the porch, and a cute wreath adorning the door.
I’m assuming they’ll turn this place into an Airbnb once Alara officially moves out – it would be good business, as the town is apparently welcoming more tourists all year long.
I like to think that Colorado is exceptionally beautiful in the winter, but in the summer?
It’s breathtaking. I’m not surprised that people travel all the way here to discover its beauty for themselves.
“Hey,” I say, when the door opens to reveal Alara, her fragrance enveloping me suddenly and rendering my knees so weak I’m embarrassed. She smells intoxicatingly sweet – vanilla, maybe hints of coconut and lavender too.
The way she gives me a onceover feels deliberate. I want to smirk, annoy her with a smug remark, but all I can do is blush and give in to the power of my stupid, thundering heart.
She steps aside. “Come in. I’m just finishing getting ready.”
That’s when I notice that she’s already wearing her black ski pants and matching base layers, her hair unbound and cascading down her back.
I take my shoes off, not wanting to dirty her place with melted snow.
“Alara,” I grumble, tugging down the zipper of my coat. “It’s a fucking furnace in here.”
“Apologies for getting cold.” She walks away toward a small hallway. “Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be a minute.”
To my right, there’s the kitchen with a central island surrounded by stools.
Cookbooks are aligned on the counter by the window, transparent jars labeled with their contents next to them.
I bite back a snicker when I spot the jar marked ‘pasta’ is filled with rice.
To my left is the open living room with an L-shaped couch, and a coffee table on which there’s a candle, a mini plant, and her closed laptop.
Beside the television there’s a large bookcase that catches my attention.
So, she’s a reader too? I like that.
There’s mostly romance with a hint of fantasy. Picking up one of the numerous novels she possesses, I inwardly smile at the sight of the colorful tabs peeking out.
I notice the staircase then, leading to a mezzanine where, behind the railing adorned by garlands and twinkling lights, is her bed.
This place is really cool and cozy. I wonder what it would feel like to hang out with her here late at night with a movie playing on the TV.
Her head resting in my lap, my fingers sifting through her long hair.
Our gazes catching, her lips compelling me to bend lower to taste them.
The energy shifting into something hotter and intense and—
Wait. Stop. Why has my mind wandered off in this direction?
Nope, this can’t happen. I told myself, not even twenty-four hours ago, that I can’t act on my attraction to her. I have to focus on my recovery, on getting back on Coach’s good side and gaining his trust. Being distracted by Alara Bradford is a terrible idea.
But who am I if I don’t gravitate toward danger?
Focus.
Something rubs against my shin, causing me to jump and snapping me back to reality.
“Ah! What the fuck?”
When I glance down, a black cat is sitting at my feet, purring so loudly it nearly makes my bones vibrate. I frown down at the animal before putting the book back where it belongs.
“Is everything okay?” Alara comes into view, tying her hair in a ponytail. She’s shrugged a fleece jumper over her clothes.
“I didn’t know you lived with a demon.” I’m not a cat person. I’m not an animal person. The hamster Valentina used to have when she was a kid is where I draw the line.
Alara’s laugh is addictive – the sweetest melody I’ve had the privilege of hearing. I want to hear it all day, every day. It’s annoying in the way that it makes me want to laugh too, but sweet and endearing all the same.
“Tabby is not a demon,” she murmurs, picking up the cat and twisting it on its back to rub its belly. “She’s a sweet baby just asking for love and affection.”
“Aren’t we all?”
She presses a kiss to Tabby’s head. “Do you want to hold her?”
Do I look like I want to? “My hands are full.”
“Holding your enormous ego?”
“How did you know?” I say dryly.
As soon as Tabby is back on the carpet, she struts toward two bowls set on a mat below the kitchen counter and meows before chomping on some food.
I suddenly remember what I’m holding, and hand Alara a paper cup with a logo she knows all too well.
“What is this?”
I’m tempted to reply with a sarcastic retort, but I decide not to. “It’s not poisoned.”