Chapter 20
HANNAH
Noah lounges peacefully on one of the couches, leg propped up on two pillows, girls fawning over him and asking if he needs anything.
My blood begins to boil. Maya can sense my anger, and she grabs my arm, eyes pleading with me not to go over there. “Hannah, whatever you’re about to do—”
“Maya, I love you very much, but I cannot sit back and watch him milk his non-existent injuries and refuse to participate.” My body is shaking, my temper meter reaching its breaking point.
“Oh boy,” mumbles Maya, as my arm slips from her hand.
I walk over, finding Noah has his arms behind his head, leaning back into a set of pillows, chatting and winking at those who hang over the couch, drooling.
I approach, waving them off. “Shoo, all of you.”
“Excuse me?” one of them says.
“We’re not dogs, you know,” another says.
I snort. “Well, judging by how bad you’re all drooling, I beg to differ.”
A few gasps, one girl tries to step between Noah and me. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”
“Can’t you see I don’t care? Now, go away, all of you, or I’ll tell the owners you’re loitering.”
The sea of his pathetic fan club disperses, leaving just Noah and me staring at one another.
More like glowering.
“Is there a reason for your intrusion?” he asks, annoyed.
“Yeah, there is. For someone with barely a sprain and a slight concussion, you sure know how to milk your injuries,” I snap.
Noah gives me a quick assessment, smirking. “Quite observant, Red. Although I am concerned about your obsessive habits. Might want to seek help for that.”
I have to hold myself back from shouting. “You might want to seek help for your delusion, because for someone who has two gold medals, you act so fragile. It’s pathetic.”
He gets comfortable, putting his hands behind his head again, sighing like my presence isn’t a bother.
“Pathetic? That’s new. Never met a woman with balls, Red.
It’s quite a turn on.” His muscles flex, veins protruding from his tawny skin, and I try my best not to get distracted.
He wears a white t-shirt and black sweats; only one foot has a sock on, the other is wrapped in a black brace.
His dark curls are in disarray, and that stupid mole that lifts when he smiles has me boiling.
I shake my head, reminding myself of the reason I came over here. “You’re a sad excuse for a snowboarder. For someone with your talent, it’s a shame how it’s going to waste.”
Noah’s eyes darken, and he loses his cocky smirk. “You know nothing about me.”
I snort. “You’re right, I don’t. But I know when someone abuses his status. So, you either get off your ass, or you leave.”
The air around us tightens, and Noah starts to lose his cool. “Sharp tongue you got there, Red. I’d watch yourself.”
But I keep going, letting all my frustration and disappointment flood past my iron gates. “Anyone can replace you. The moves you perform are easy to imitate; a monkey could do it.”
“And what do you know about snowboarding? What do you know about a sport that has shaped your childhood, following you into your adult life until it’s all you consume?” His eyes pierce through my soul, holding me in place.
Before I can snipe back my retort, Maya jumps to my defense. “Actually, Hannah used to compete as a snowboarder back in the day.”
Noah’s eyes dart back and forth between us, looking baffled by the admission.
Maya clears her throat. “And if I think anyone is qualified for getting you back out there, Noah, it would be her.”
Panic hits my chest, wondering where she’s going with this.
Coach Jones makes a surprise appearance somewhere behind us, startling me. “I think that’s a great idea, Maya.”
Her smile is triumphant. “You think?”
My eyes widened. There is no way she set me up.
Noah has the same shocked expression, mouth silently agape. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Coach Jones ignores his comment, looking over at me. “Hannah, Maya talks highly of you and happened to mention your amazing record as a snowboarder. I think it’s a great idea for you to help Noah and remind him why we’re all here in the first place.” He shoots him a warning look not to argue.
But that doesn’t stop the infamous Noah Hart. “You want some washed-up wannabe snowboarder to help me get back out there? I would rather swallow a bucket of nails than commit to something like that.”
His words are harsh, forcing my will to blow up, exploding through the dam of perfect composure. “And I would rather get stuck in an avalanche than ever waste my precious time on the likes of you.”
Maya tugs at my arm. “Please, Hannah.”
But I’ve had enough. Not giving them another chance for a rebuttal, I am the first to leave, moving past lingering guests, some of his fan club snickering as I walk back.
Retreating to my cabin is my first thought, but how quickly Maya can find me forces me to halt my mission of retreat and take a snowy trail to the first set of slopes on foot.
I wander, hearing kids squeal from the thrill of mastering the bunny slopes. Hugging myself, I curse my haste and for not bringing my jacket as frigid air bites at my cheeks, numbing the tip of my nose.
There is no way in hell I’m helping Noah readjust to snowboarding. Coach Jones is acting like he’s some fragile little boy, and it’s baffling how much he’s coddled, when he barely got hurt.
Animosity toward Noah was warranted before his accident; now it’s a monsoon of hate just by his choice of words alone.
He thinks swallowing a bucket of nails is better than being near me? It’s almost laughable, and pride shines through me at my comeback.
No man will ever belittle me again.
I can hear my name called, wind whistling through ice-capped branches, muffling most of the noise. The trail breaks off, arrows pointing from left to right, indicating which path leads to a particular slope.
“Hannah, wait!” Maya’s footsteps crunch heavily on the snow when I stop, huffing and puffing like she ran a marathon.
I turn to find my jacket clutched in her hands as she bends over to catch her breath.
“I can’t believe you ran all this way,” I say.
She holds up a finger, signaling for me to be quiet while she calms her pounding heart from the exertion of running. “Well…” she takes another breath, settling against a lamppost, “if you just waited a second, I could have explained.”
“Oh, explain how you set me up? Why, Maya?” Here I am trying to cool off, and she just reminded me how betrayed I felt back there.
“Because, Hannah, I trust you to get his ass up. I trust you to make sure this resort is saved.”
I throw my hands in the air. “How am I going to help save it when the fucker wants nothing to do with me!”
She throws my coat, hitting me square in the face.
“The plan was set before I came into the dining hall. When my mother asked me to hang back, Coach Jones joined us and explained the situation. I was hoping to inform you before you went and attacked him verbally, which was iconic, might I add, and explain what we had in mind. I was just lucky Coach came by in time to help.”
Part of me, and that part is a thin sliver, wants nothing to do with Noah and his fragile ego. But the other, where I put all my best efforts into saving Snowy Peak, forces my icy exterior to melt.
Unfortunately, my urge to save this place outweighs any con of working alongside the most insufferable human on the planet.
Fuck me.
I quickly put on my jacket, letting its warmth settle in my stiff bones, and rub my hands together to keep the blood flowing. Maya pleads with me with those doe-like eyes, forcing me into submission.
Little does she know, I already decided.
Sighing like the world is against me, I hold my arms open, a knowing look on her face that I caved, and she embraces me with the tightest hug.
“Thank you, Hannah. I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew you couldn’t do it,” she mumbles in my hair.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to groan. Because she thinks so highly of me, it pains me to turn down any chance to help save what is such a staple of our childhood and lives.
We walk back, arms linked, steps in unison, hoping Noah hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.
Odds are, he’s still slumping against a plethora of pillows, adoring fans drooling over his physique.
Not that I pay too much attention to it, but I am a human with two eyes, and I see the appeal, other than his rude mouth.
Maya leaves me to confront the brooding man on the couch, reading some type of magazine, dog-earing the page when he sees me approaching.
“Come back to gawk? A picture will help it last longer,” he snickers, clearly pleased with himself. “Might I suggest a portrait?”
Usually, I approach situations with caution, rather than coming out guns blazing, but since Noah likes to think he’s funny with his cocky persona, I might as well match his energy. At least I can get some enjoyment out of it.
I grab his ankle, wrapped in the black brace, and smile, flinging it off the couch. His foot lands with a hard thud, completely unbothered by the hit.
I knew that son of a bitch was milking it.
“First, stop talking, your voice is grating on my eardrums. Second, I’m not here to coddle you like the rest of your adoring fans and teammates.
I’m here to make sure you get off your ass and back on those slopes.
I don’t know why my involvement is necessary since you’re more than capable of returning, but I’ll be damned if your dumb ass ruins this for The Gomezes. ”
He cocks an eyebrow, no humor in his eyes. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, better be ready at seven tomorrow morning, otherwise a car will be ready to haul your ass out of here.”
Noah gets up, showing he can walk, and nods. “Fine, Red.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Never thought you’d give in that easily.”
Noah takes a couple of steps forward, invading my personal space. “You’re going to find out real quick what a waste of time it’ll be.”
He leaves me staring at his back, the muscles underneath his shirt tense as he pushes the dining hall doors open.
Feeling proud of my stance, I wander to a frost-covered window, peek out at the night sky, and give myself a little space before dinner.
Light snow begins to fall, kissing the ground, covering old footprints that mark the trails. Wood glows from an old flame inside the fireplace, the smell of cinnamon invading my nostrils.
I’m trying my best to see the bright side of this unfortunate situation, reminding myself in an endless loop that what I’m doing for Maya and her family, maybe even his team, can help save the resort and build something even greater.
Yet I can’t shake this feeling that the can of worms I opened might’ve been infested with maggots.