Chapter 16 Connor
Connor
The walk back to my cabin is a blur. My system is flooded with adrenaline, then a bone-deep coldness settles in, followed by fear, anxiety, embarrassment, disappointment, and anger. By the time we reach my front door, I’m exhausted, and my hands are shaking so badly that Vox has to unlock the knob.
I’m aware enough to know this is a bad idea.
Worse than bad.
It’s the worst idea to ever have idea-ed.
But I’m so gone, I don’t even care as I follow my athlete inside.
“You need to go change into dry clothes.” When I don’t move, Vox rubs a hand across the back of his neck and shifts his weight before asking, “Do you want help?”
Robotically, I shake my head no, even though something deep inside me is screaming, Yes! Make me forget. Let me get lost in you instead.
Slowly, I make my way down the hallway toward my bedroom, thankful there are no stairs to navigate.
I begin feeling better as my core body temperature returns to normal in the house’s warmth.
I pull on a pair of sweatpants, a clean T-shirt, and a hoodie.
I also splash warm water on my face, hoping it helps clear my head before facing Vox again.
When I finally make my way back to my kitchen, Vox is sitting at the table, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
He holds it out for me.
“Thought you could use this.”
I take a sip and close my eyes, reveling in the burn as I finally find my voice.
“Thank you.” I slide onto the seat next to him, spinning the glass in my hands.
I’m expecting him to pepper me with questions, trying to get to the bottom of the episode he witnessed tonight. But he shocks the hell out of me when he simply asks, “Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” I answer honestly. I know I owe him an explanation. Who knows how long I would have stayed out in the snow, paralyzed by my fear, if he hadn’t come along. “Look, I know—”
Before I can finish whatever I was going to say—I’m not sure if I was gearing up for an apology or an explanation—Vox cuts me off.
“You don’t have to explain yourself. In fact, I’m sorry I’ve pushed so hard. I didn’t realize whatever you’re going through was quite so…devastating.”
Unsure how to answer him, I sit in silence, but I find that raking my gaze over him seems to calm my erratic heartbeat, so I allow myself a second, much longer glance.
The silence stretches on too long, though, because Vox suddenly pushes his chair back from the table and stands.
“I should probably head back and get some sleep,” he says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the door.
Everything in me wants to beg him not to go. I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts right now, but asking him to stay would be crossing another line, not to mention it would give him outrageously mixed signals.
I stand as well. The least I can do is walk him to the door, but my feet aren’t steady, and I’m overcome with exhaustion so deep my legs feel like lead. I feel myself falling, but I’m powerless to stop it.
“Shit,” Vox says as he lunges for me, righting me before I hit the floor.
I’m a fucking mess, and I’m not even drunk.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, sounding weak and pathetic, hating that I’ve allowed myself to become this shell of a man.
“It’s fine,” he says, even though we both know it’s not.
He angles his head toward me as he starts talking. His exhale becomes my inhale and vice versa. I want to kiss him as much as I want to get back on my board.
Maybe more.
My heart rate is climbing again, and I’m certain he can hear it as it hammers against my sternum.
“Please don’t tempt me,” I plead as his hand comes to rest on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing along my jaw. “Because I’ll give in.”
Vox gives me a sinful smirk as the left side of his mouth draws up in a crooked smile. “Why, Connor, does that mean you find me irresistible?” he teases, lightening the mood.
Vox’s playful attitude helps reset my brain, gently bringing back my awareness of our situation.
“Unfortunately,” I deadpan, making Vox smile even wider. “But you already knew that.”
God, his smile is so bright it could eradicate all the darkness in the world.
“I might’ve recognized the look in your eyes once or twice,” he says, licking his lips, still only an inch from my face. “And of course, coming in your boxers because of me was also a pretty dead giveaway.”
“It changes nothing, Vox.” I look away and try to turn my head, but his hand grabs my jaw, forcing my eyes back to him.
“Wrong. It changes everything, Coach.”
I snort. “You’ve been calling me by my first name since I arrived, and now, in this moment, I’m ‘Coach’?”
Vox, and that wicked grin, will be the absolute death of me. I’m sure of it.
“What can I say? The forbidden appeals to me.”
Of course it does. Vox never met a challenge he didn’t love…
or fight tooth and nail to win, for that matter.
But I’m not interested in becoming a conquest for him to claim victory over.
Nor am I interested in losing my chance at a future with Patterson Performance for a wild night…
regardless of how unforgettable Vox would make it.
I try to take a step back, but Vox’s arm clamps down even tighter across my back, pulling me flush against him. I’m still breathing hard, unable to stop my ill-timed erection. He runs his hot mouth along my stubbled jawline to my ear, nothing but his breath ever coming in contact with my skin.
It’s fucking torture. And I want more.
A shudder of need rips through my body, which, of course, Vox feels.
“Are you going to be okay by yourself tonight?” he asks, finally removing his arm and stepping back. The loss of contact leaves me stunned for a second, and without meaning to, I step forward, returning to his personal space.
“Depends on your definition of okay,” I answer truthfully.
“Get some rest,” he commands, walking toward the door. “If you need anything, call me. I’ll see you slopeside tomorrow morning.”
He walks out of my cabin a second later. The most shocking part is that I’m confident his offer for me to call him wasn’t sexual at all. He was making a legitimate offer in my time of need…and I don’t know what to make of that.
It takes every ounce of effort I have to brush my teeth and set my alarm before falling into bed.
However, I manage to muster enough energy to wrap my hand around my cock once I slide between the sheets.
It’s not more than a few pumps before I’m spilling my release into my boxers for the second time in as many days with the memory of Vox’s breath hot against my skin.
Worn out mentally, emotionally, and physically, I strip my sticky boxers off, do a sloppy clean-up job, and sleep in nothing but my T-shirt and hoodie.
And when I pass out, I sleep like the dead.
The following morning, I make my way to the slopes we’re training on with my coffee in hand. I’m nervous about how this is going to go.
Today’s slopes are open to the public, so our skiers will have to work around tourists and guests of the lodge, which I don’t love for obvious reasons.
I try my hardest not to scan the faces of the boarders as I approach, looking for the one that will make my heart race, but I fail. Like a heat-seeking missile, my eyes land on Vox immediately.
It’s clear he’s already taken a couple of laps. His goggles are pushed up on his helmet, and he’s in his signature bright orange Patterson jacket, sweat dotting his forehead.
To my amazement, he’s laughing with Grey, Renner, and Trent.
Since both of my designated athletes are in the circle, I find my way over to them. Grey sees me first as I’m coming up behind the rest of the group.
“Coach Lang! Glad you’re here! I’m sending Renner with Trent and Gibson today to work on Big Air with Montoya.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” I say, caught a little off-guard. “Who else is coming with me today, then?” I ask, avoiding Vox’s eyes, already dreading having to interact with him around a different teammate. Renner is easy and has such respect for Vox that working with the two of them is actually a joy.
Grey claps Vox on the shoulder and smiles.
“It seems Vox here has some equipment questions he wants to run by you and a few things he wants to practice on the small slopes before putting them to the test on the big runs.” Sweat beads at the back of my neck, and I pull my beanie off to cool my scalp.
“He asked for a couple of one-on-one hours. I figured you wouldn’t mind.
” Grey shoots me a wink because this is what he brought me here for: to get close to Vox and teach him control.
But how am I supposed to do that when I barely have any of my own?
Warning bells are blaring in my head.
Vox’s equipment setup is perfect. Completely dialed in for his skill, style, size, weight, and events. There’s nothing I can help him with there. And there’s definitely nothing he wants to try on any slope smaller than the one in front of us. That isn’t how he develops his skills.
He just goes for it. Full send on full-scale terrain and figures it out along the way.
“Yeah, okay,” I say slowly, unable to shake the feeling that I’m walking into a trap.
“Great!” Grey says cheerfully. “I’ll see you guys later, then. Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
As he walks away, I look at Vox, trying to decide what to say, but Vox beats me to it.
“Follow me,” he says, completely in charge of this interaction.
I do as he says because this isn’t the time or place to make a scene.
When we’re finally out of earshot of the others, Vox turns to me.
“Do you still have your Vertigo board?”
“Um, yeah?” My answer comes out as a question even though I know I have the board. I used one of Patterson’s last night because I figured being on my board…the board…would only psych me out even more. Come to find out, it didn’t matter which board I was on; I freaked out anyway.
“Is it here?”