Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
R onnie’s mind went into action even as her body froze.
Lying there on the icy snow, she stared at the pine trees just to her left, mentally scanning every part of her body.
Nothing broken. She wiggled her toes, assuring herself that everything was okay.
Sure, she’d have some aches and pains tomorrow, but nothing a little ice and aspirin wouldn’t fix. And yet…
She couldn’t bring herself to move. Some part of her was replaying last year’s accident, remembering the agony when she’d first tried to straighten her leg, then realizing with the help of the paramedic that yes, she was okay. Everything was fine.
She could keep going.
She could keep pushing to compete and be the best.
Until a few days later at the gym, when she heard that soul-shattering pop and knew it was all over.
Her shallow breathing fogged up the air in front of her face.
Get a grip. This isn’t last year, and you’re not hurt.
But her lungs only worked harder, her chest rising and falling faster than she could handle. Panic started to creep in.
She wasn’t hurt, so why was she panicking?
Where was the oxygen she needed?
Her breaths were gasping. Desperate. Tears filled her eyes.
Oh God, what is wrong with me?
I should be celebrating. I should be ? —
“Ronnie?” Dallas called her name again, but she couldn’t respond. She heard clips pop and the rustling of snow gear as he ditched his board and crawled toward her.
“Hey.” His face came into view, his gentle smile filling her vision. His expression shifted when he took her in, and then he was grabbing her gloved hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
He seemed to be doing it for her. She watched his eyes, so serious and concerned as he took a deep breath, prompting her to follow along. When he exhaled slowly, she tried her best to match his rhythm.
The lines of his handsome face were made of granite right now, etched deep with concern yet hard enough to be controlled. “Where does it hurt, Ronnie?”
She shook her head, only managing a soft whimper.
With a whispered curse, Dallas tugged his glove off with his teeth and pulled out his phone. Holding it up, he checked the screen and gruffly assured her, “Don’t move. I’m calling for help?—”
“No!” She reached up and snagged the phone from him, finally snapping out of her frozen state.
She didn’t want a call. The drama. The attention.
She didn’t need it.
Sitting up, she ignored his urges to stay still and told him, “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”
“You sure?” He eyed her warily, his gaze moving over her limbs, her face, as if he could do an X-ray with his eyes alone. “Sometimes you don’t know unless you?—”
“I’m sure.” Her voice sounded far stronger this time, but to her horror…
She burst into tears.
“Ronnie?”
She shook her head, her belly surging with a sob she couldn’t control.
Dallas was all around her in a heartbeat. He was a tall guy with broad shoulders—she’d known this—but right now she was experiencing it. He’d wrapped his arms around her and was holding her to his chest, blocking everything else out.
For a second, she could let herself believe that the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Sobs racked her, but he only held her tighter.
Finally, she heard his low rumble of a voice through his chest. “Sweetheart, are you sure you’re not hurt?” At her nod, he added, “I know you must be scared about what another injury would mean for your career.”
To her horror—and no doubt his too—this only set her off again.
He rubbed her back, tucking her head under his chin as he made the sort of soothing sounds one would use with a kid. And it…
It was nice, honestly.
She let herself sink into him further, trying and failing to remember the last time anyone had comforted her. Even after her injury, when Margot and her dad had visited her in the hospital, she’d found herself reassuring them that she’d be all right. That she’d be able to compete again.
That their payday hadn’t come to an end.
She squeezed her eyes shut. That was a horrible thing to think about her own family. And it wasn’t true. Or at least…not entirely.
They loved her. She knew that.
But even so, being taken care of now made her realize just how little of this she had in her life. And that the person giving her this comfort now was Dallas King.
Dallas King.
She made herself repeat the thought until she found the strength to push against his chest and murmur, “I’m okay now.” When he tried to keep her locked in his arms, she grunted and pushed a little harder. “Dallas, I’m okay.”
He let her go with obvious reluctance, and when she tried to dip her head to hide the ugly evidence of her crying, he caught her chin and lifted it. Using his scarf, he wiped away the rest of her tears.
The gesture was so sweet, she almost lost it again. But with a sniff and a deep breath, she forced herself to pull it together.
For a long while, she sat there, and Dallas patiently waited beside her. She couldn’t even tell him how much she appreciated his silent presence at her side.
But when a skier passed, casting them a quizzical frown, and then another…
She finally turned to Dallas. “We should probably get up, huh?”
He had his knees up and looked completely content to just sit there. “Take however long you need, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. There it was again. So casual and natural, like he’d been calling her that for years. Her eyes met his, and the affection and concern there made her heart give a little kick to her ribs.
She looked away with a sharp inhale.
Dallas King.
Of all the men she could get soft and squishy over, it had to be him.
God, what is your plan here?
Dallas reached over and brushed some hair out of her face. “I know I keep asking, but are you sure you’re not hurt?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “When did you become such a nag?”
He chuckled. “Just ask Willow. She’ll say I was born this way.”
She started to smile, but muttered a curse when tears filled her eyes all over again.
“Ah, babe.” Dallas reached for her, but she held a hand up.
“If you hug me again, I’m gonna turn into a blubbering, snotty mess.”
He let out a huff of amusement. “I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do.”
“You know…” He wrapped his arms around his knees instead of around her. “I’m not normally one for talking about feelings…”
She gave a snort of amusement at that.
“But in this case, I think it might help.” At her continued silence, he adopted a faux stern tone. “If you don’t tell the doctor where it hurts?—”
“It hurts here.” She pointed to her head, not in the mood for games. Her throat grew tight as she dropped her hand to her chest. “And…here.”
His gaze turned solemn as it held hers. He was just…waiting. Waiting for her to come around in her own time.
He would have made a good doctor, she realized. He had this calm, patient air about him, like he could wait all day, and he wasn’t going to run if she lost it again.
She swallowed hard. “When I first hit the snow, I was worried I was injured, but then…” She looked away, shame and guilt making it impossible to hold his gaze. “But then when I realized I wasn’t, I…”
Her throat outright ached with unshed tears she couldn’t even explain.
He reached out and touched her cheek. “When you realized you weren’t hurt, you…?”
She wet her lips and forced herself to look at him, realization hitting her like a ten-ton truck. “For a second, I…I wished I was.”
His eyes widened a little, but he kept quiet.
“Because…because if I was hurt, I wouldn’t have to join the circuit again.” Saying the words aloud made the tears come back full force, and Dallas reached for her.
This time he didn’t let her push him away. He held her to his chest. “Ah, sweetheart.” His voice was so low and soothing. “You don’t have to do this anymore, whether you’re hurt or not. It’s your life.”
She sniffed. The words were so sweet.
So sweet but…so not true.