Chapter 4 #2
She hesitates, her face flat. “I guess.” Not the enthusiasm I was hoping for, but better than an outright refusal.
She leans forward to release her boots from her snowboard, carefully avoiding my eye as she tucks it beneath her arm and leads the way to the little spectator area.
There’s a shed, a few benches, and a highlighter yellow backpack which Delta yanks an insulated water bottle from, her expression stony.
She’s obviously not going to make this easy on me or lead the conversation. Fair enough.
“I’m sorry to show up like this.” I rub the back of my neck, which is burning from the cold despite my upturned collar.
“I just wanted to tell you that we are friends. Our relationship isn’t the same as I have with my other patients.
I’m not the best at communicating, but it’s not a reflection of you or what I think of you.
It’s just… me. I’ll work on it. For you.
” It’s such a rambling, disconnected speech that I have to force myself not to wince in embarrassment.
The words feel unnatural in my mouth, but I can’t think how else to say them.
This is so fucking embarrassing. She’s never seen me like this, in my naturally awkward, socially stumbling form. Every interaction we’ve ever had has been on my turf, and now we’re on hers.
Delta looks over her shoulder, and I’m relieved to see the guarded, cold look she wore moments ago is gone.
Encouraged, I carry on, forcing myself to admit what I’ve never acknowledged to anyone outside my family.
“I’m on the autism spectrum. I’m not ashamed of it, but it isn’t something I’d like made public.
There are negative connotations, ones that would affect my business and my partners.
I don’t tell people, but I think it’s important that you’re aware. ”
Delta turns slowly, her eyes searching my face. “Thank you for telling me. It does help me understand.”
But she still doesn’t look any happier, and the warmth that I usually feel from being around her still hasn’t returned. “You’re still upset. ”
Her lips press down into a flat, miserable line. “I don’t have a right to be.”
“Will you tell me why?” Fuck, if she won’t let me fix this, I might go insane.
I had a casual girlfriend in med school who would dangle her feelings over my head, making me guess and assume why she was upset, or get angry when I didn’t care enough to beg.
I would beg for Delta, but as it turns out, I don’t need to.
“I—” she falters, her already flushed cheeks getting darker. “I’m hurt because you’ve never mentioned you have a girlfriend. It’s just such a big, personal thing, and it made me realize how little I know you.”
I choke. “Girlfriend? You mean Phoebe ?”
Delta looks mortified. “The tall, gorgeous blonde woman in your office? Yeah. She… she is your girlfriend, right?”
Oh. Oh. She thought— “No.” I assure her vehemently, shaking my head. “Phoebe is my older sister. She’s married, has two feral children, and manages the spa on Taylor Street.”
Is she fucking jealous?
Delta’s face has gone completely pink and her eyes are wide with horror. She’s so goddamn cute. “Your sister. Wow, I really am an idiot. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t realize I’m moving a step closer to her until I’ve already done it.
“Don’t be. It’s my fault.” In retrospect, I can imagine how it looked from Delta’s perspective, coming into my office to see a woman she’d never met leaning against my desk, smiling at me.
I would have thought the same if the situation were reversed, and my gut twists with jealousy at the possibility of some future man looking at her.
“So in the future, should I be more direct?” she clarifies hesitantly, her stormy eyes searching my face for signs of discomfort. “I’m sorry I ran off without explaining. That wasn’t cool.”
“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” I assure her, but my whole body has warmed at her gentle offer.
“But yes, direct is usually helpful. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that sooner.
” I’m not sure what I was expecting, for her pity maybe, or her discomfort, but if anything, Delta looks relieved.
She wants to know me.
The corner of her lips lift into a shy, crooked smile. “You came out here to tell me this?”
I snort. “I’m not exactly a social butterfly, Delta. I couldn’t let one of my few friends walk around thinking she’s just some ordinary patient.” I nod back toward the slopestyle course. “I’m glad I came regardless, though. That is better in person.”
She groans. “Of course, that’s the run you saw. I was a mess.”
“You were incredible.” Granted, I’m probably ridiculously biased, but she was fucking amazing, and I won’t be convinced otherwise. “I’ll never forget that.”
Things have been so intense lately that I’d nearly forgotten how easy it is to just be with her , to see her smile and hear her voice.
I realize, with a dizzying burst of clarity, that the possessive, consuming attraction I feel for Delta Jacobs didn’t come out of nowhere.
We built it together in a hundred moments, just like this one.
“Want me to teach you?” she offers slyly. “I bet you’d be good.”
“Absolutely not.” I hold up my hands. “If I break a wrist, I won’t be able to operate for months. I can’t. ”
She laughs, backing toward the shed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re not going to break a wrist.”
“I’m an orthopedic surgeon, Delta. How many pins do you think I put into snowboarders’ wrists every year?”
“Live a little, Doc.” Now she’s just being insolent. I watch, my retort on the tip of my tongue, as she turns to pull open the doors to the shed. I see over her shoulder that the inside is full of bindings, boards, and other supplies. “What size shoe are you?”
Christ, this is embarrassing. This woman is fucking cool , and I’m too chicken shit to take the responsible, pragmatic stick out of my ass for ten minutes? “Delta, I really shouldn’t.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that I’ve gone from “ can’t ” to “ shouldn’t ” in under a minute. I thought there were only two women in my life who could demolish my resolution so easily, but it looks like a third has been added to that formidable list. My mother and Phoebe would be thrilled.
Delta must know she’s closing in on victory because she cheerfully ignores my feeble objection. I watch, chest tight, as she pulls out a pair of battered snowboarding boots from the bottom shelf in the shed and traipses back to where I’m standing, her steps crunching over the packed-down snow.
It’s all I can do to stop myself from groaning when she drops to her knees at my feet, fingers moving to the laces of my boots.
“Come on.” She smiles up at me, and that wicked little smile only a few inches from my cock must be enough to send all the blood rushing south from my brain because I nod jerkily.
Nobody is around, but I still feel shaky and self-conscious when Delta shows me how to step into the bindings on the board she found for me. I work out daily. I’m in objectively excellent shape for my age, but just standing upright on this thing is enough to make my thighs burn.
“This is hard,” I huff, exasperated after my third attempt to stand on a flat section of the hill ends up with me on my ass. “Christ?—”
Delta laughs, and she looks so carefree and happy it’s worth the hit to my dignity.
“Come on.” She’s been watching from a few feet away as I struggle, but now she moves forward to take my gloved hands in hers.
I let her pull me to my feet and wobble unsteadily for a minute.
“See? Easy.” She steps to the side and pulls me along.
I can’t tell if the swooping sensation low in my stomach is from the sensation of the earth sliding beneath the snowboard, or being close enough to count the freckles on her nose.
I curse under my breath. “I can’t believe you do backflips on this thing.”
We’re so close together that the mist from our breaths collides in the icy air and I can see the tiny flecks of blue in her eyes as she smiles up at me. “I can’t believe you don’t. Didn’t you grow up here?”
“I’ve never told you that.” I don’t think so, anyway, and I’ve spent so much time obsessing over my interactions with Delta that I doubt I’d forget something like that.
Delta coughs, avoiding my gaze. “I probably read it somewhere.”
“You Googled me?” I’m not sure why that’s so surprising to me. If I was an athlete, I’d do my research into the doctor who had my career in their hands. The bashful look on her face raises a flicker of suspicion that maybe her internet sleuthing wasn’t purely professional.
“I’m sure you looked me up,” she retorts, keeping her eyes on the snow inching by beneath us as she pulls me along .
She’s so much smaller than me, I don’t want to lean on her, but when we hit a slight slope, my stomach plummets, and I cling to her forearms instinctively.
“Do you remember your first time on a snowboard?” I ask quietly.
In the distance, I can hear voices, but on this quiet stretch of trail, it’s just me and Delta, suspended together in this moment.
She hums, her head tilting slightly as she considers.
“I don’t think so. I was young, obviously.
I remember doing trampoline training on my fifth birthday and dislocating my shoulder.
The nurses brought me one of those little ice cream cups with a candle in it.
So, it must have been earlier than that. ”
Five? Christ. She says it so nonchalantly, like it’s normal to begin professional athletic training before you’ve lost all your baby teeth.
I’ve wondered before how Delta’s mother would have felt about how her children were raised.
According to old internet gossip articles, she and River had a contentious relationship.
There are paparazzi pictures of them fighting outside a restaurant, River’s face contorted in anger as his two young sons stand to the side with tears in their eyes and his pregnant wife glowers right back.
She died only a year later, drunk and driving at top speed through the mountains of Colorado, leaving River to raise champions rather than children.
“I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.” I smile tightly, and she lets me sit back on my ass.
Delta laughs quietly and plops down next to me, leaning forward to undo my bindings for me.
Ahead, there’s a spectacular view of snowcapped mountains and I ache with how badly I wish I could reach across the perfectly respectable distance between us and touch her again.
“You were fine. I’m sure things would get ugly if you tried to teach me how to do your job. ”
I chuckle. “I can arrange a day for you to shadow me if you’re interested in medical school.”
“Pass.” I turn to see her eyes fixed on the horizon, “Who knows what I’ll do when I can’t snowboard anymore, but it won’t be anything that impressive.”
“I doubt that.”
We sit in silence for a long time, lost in our respective thoughts.
Despite the icy wind biting at my cheeks and the snow probably soaking through the back of my jacket and slacks, it’s a relief.
I’m not worried that I’ll say the wrong thing or give away my feelings for her.
We’re just together, and it might be the most peaceful moment of my life.
“Thanks for coming to check in.” Delta finally tells me gently as we watch a pair of skiers pass by us on the main trail, moving so fast it seems almost inhuman.
“And for telling me. About you, I mean. I promise I won’t say anything, but for the record, I think you’re amazing.
You’re my favorite person, and if someone believes that your being autistic is shameful or limiting, it says way more about them than it does about you. ”
I love her.
The certainty of it washes over me, flooding my body with heat and fear.
This isn’t an obsession, and I can’t pretend otherwise anymore.
I’m thirty-eight years old. I’ve had relationships.
Some of them seemed good at the time, but none of those women made me feel as seen as Delta does.
Looking at her now, it’s heartbreaking to realize that fleeting moments like these are all we’ll ever have.
She’s my patient. My too-young, too good for me, patient, and I’m fucking in love with her.
I’m still numb with shock when she pushes back to her feet. Never before have I wished I could find a way to hold on to a moment forever. “Delta.” My mouth is dry as she turns to face me, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Take a picture with me.”
Her head tilts, a curious gleam in her eyes.
Still, she holds out a hand to haul me back to my feet and we draw together with the snowy mountains behind us.
There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be doing this, why I shouldn’t be here, why it’s wrong for me to want her, but as our faces appear side by side on the screen of my phone, I don’t remember any of them.
“We weren’t smiling,” Delta murmurs, turning to me just as I hit the button to take a second picture.
My throat tightens as I stare down at her, tucked under my arm with her own wrapped around my waist. “It doesn’t matter.”