9. Oliver
NINE
Oliver
“Nice outfit,” I said through a chuckle.
“It was all Mattie had.” Frankie glared at me while adjusting the arms of the cream snowsuit that had lines of neon color circling the elbows and knees. She looked freaking adorable.
“Sorry for wanting to look good out here,” Mattie said, wearing her own emerald-green and white snowsuit.
“You can say that again.” Giles grinned and ruffled her hair.
“Hey!” She swatted him away before tugging on a beanie.
Frankie sighed and eyed the board and boots in my hands. “Those for me?” she asked.
“Yep.” I handed her the boots, and she took them without complaint. “You need more coffee or something?” I asked. “I was expecting about a dozen more snarky comments from you this morning.”
“Wait until we’re on the hill and I’ve fallen on my ass the first few times. You’ll be begging me to shut up.”
She furrowed her brow and squinted at the hill behind us. I glanced back at it, attempting to see it through her eyes. It probably seemed pretty ominous to her, though I was so used to speeding down that steep hill that I barely gave it a second thought.
Her lack of enthusiasm only made me more determined to drag her up the mountain. I had a bit of a habit—okay, a full-blown complex—of roping people into adventures they had no interest in.
Just ask my brother, Nathan. We were never particularly close until he moved to Denver, at which point I had made it my mission to introduce him to every hobby I’d picked up since landing here. Despite his endless complaints, I took him rock climbing, hiking, snowboarding. Apparently, forcing people to do the things I enjoyed was my love language.
“Maybe you’ll be a natural,” Giles offered as Frankie looked warily up the hill. “Mattie picked it up pretty fast.”
Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Was this before or after she wound up in the hospital?”
Giles winced and Mattie rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, that wasn’t my fault.”
“We’ll be on the bunny hill. Chances of hospitalization are low,” I reassured Frankie. I had taught plenty of lessons over the years and so far hadn’t had a single injury on my watch. Well, other than a few bruised butts. That couldn’t be helped.
“But never zero,” she countered.
I swiped my hand across my face, hiding my massive grin. I’d gotten to know Frankie’s feisty demeanor quite well after spending almost every evening at Marie’s, hoping to catch her there. Getting her to loosen up wasn’t going to be easy, but hell if I wouldn’t give it a fighting try.
“Are we doing this or not?” Frankie asked, lifting up the boots and waving them around, almost knocking herself right in the face .
“Careful, champ. Any injuries that happen before the hill, I cannot be held responsible for.” I gave her shoulder a little shake, and Giles and Mattie laughed.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Frankie whined.
The slight shake in her voice told me that she was anxious. I felt a slight tug at that.
“You two go ahead.” I pointed to Mattie and Giles. “Maybe we’ll meet up at the base later.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely be stopping by before that to see Frankie fall a few times.”
Frankie glared at her sister. “Wait. You’re actually ditching me?”
Giles looked behind them, clearly eager to escape the beginner area.
“We can’t all take over the bunny hill,” Mattie said. “Oliver is going to teach you.”
The sigh Frankie let out could have triggered an avalanche.
“Let’s go.” I waved for her to follow me, but she still stood there, hesitant.
“See ya,” Mattie said as she and Giles headed to the main lift.
I turned, not waiting for Frankie to follow, and walked over to one of several outdoor benches surrounding a firepit. It wasn’t turned on right now because of the early hour, but later in the day, people would be packed shoulder to shoulder around this thing.
“Come on, I won’t bite,” I yelled to Frankie, who was still standing there. “Unless you want me to,” I added with a wink.
That seemed to finally snap her out of it. She stalked toward me and plopped down on the bench. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea—hey!” She swatted my hand away, but I had already managed to pull off one of her leather boots.
“Put this on,” I instructed, taking the right snowboard boot from her hand and setting it on the ground. “I can grab you another pair from the rental shop if they don’t fit. They should be tight but not crushing your toes.”
She looked hesitant but thankfully followed my instructions. She stuffed her foot into the bulky boot and grunted as she tried to get her heel to slide in.
“Here,” I said, grabbing her waist and pulling her lightly to stand up. “Grip my arms and push.”
As soon as she stood and pushed down, her foot went in easily.
“How’s it feel?” I tapped the tip of her boot.
“Uncomfortable,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a tennis shoe. Are your toes cramped?”
“No,” she admitted. “I can wiggle them.”
“Perfect.” I gave her a thumbs-up.
Once she got the other boot on and laced up, I grabbed both of our boards and headed toward the bunny hill. Frankie followed me, and when I glanced back, I could see her eyeing the small hill with apprehension. Typically, they didn’t open it early like they did the main chairlift, but I’d convinced one of the guys I knew to operate it for us.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said under her breath.
I chuckled and knocked on her helmet. “Relax. You’re with a professional.”
She narrowed her eyes and jerked away from my hand. “Somehow, not comforting.”
My lower lip jutted out and I blinked down at her a few times, doing my best hurt-puppy-dog impression. That finally got her to smile and playfully shove my shoulder. It was obvious that through her tough exterior, she was all nerves. I was determined to make this fun for her.
The past couple of weeks had been a little dull, if I was being honest. Not in terms of activity, but in the sense of being alone all the time. I’d gone from living with my best friend and having a close-knit community in Denver, to being completely on my own. I could talk to anyone, strike up a conversation without effort. Casual friendships had always come easily to me, but I’d never realized how hollow they could start to feel.
Frankie was different. She felt real. It was like there was this magnetic tug that continuously pulled me into her orbit. It was why, despite not having explored many of the bars and restaurants on Main Street, I continued to go to Marie’s night after night.
Without further build up, I tossed her board to the ground. “Which foot do you kick with?” I asked.
“What? Why?” Frankie looked from the board to me with pinched brows.
“Just answer the question,” I said.
She pretended to step up to an invisible ball and mimed a small kick. “My right,” she said.
“Perfect, that’ll be your back foot then. Here—” I kneeled down and patted the front binding. “Stick your boot in.”
It only took a few minutes to get Frankie strapped in and convince her to step onto the moving conveyor belt that would take us to the top of the very small, very flat bunny hill. She’d tried to convince me it might be better to practice on flat ground, but I wouldn’t hear of it.
Now we were at the top, staring about 200 yards to the bottom. She looked panicked.
“Is there a way to make that belt thingy go in reverse?” she asked, her voice cracking .
“Only way down is straight,” I said calmly. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Watch.” I started down the hill, leaning on my heels to slow myself down. “You can start with just standing up and leaning back.”
It was challenging not to laugh as Frankie stood up. She kept her butt as far back as she could, but her entire torso was bent over with her hands straight out in front of her. She moved the tiniest inch forward before letting out a squeal and abruptly sitting back down.
I covered my amused expression with my mitten. “Great start.”
She let out an aggravated huff. “Can you stop being so annoyingly patient?”
I shimmied forward and dropped to my knees in front of her. “What can I say? I used to teach kids. This reminds me of that.”
Frankie glowered at me. “Hilarious.”
My smile stretched even further as I gripped the middle of her board. “Alright. Let’s try that again.”
“I told you.” Frankie shot me a look that was equal parts misery and blame.
The strong smell of antiseptic surrounded us while we waited in the ski hill’s cramped medical room for the nurse to come take a look at Frankie’s wrist.
“Mattie is never going to let me live this down,” she groaned.
I ran one hand through my hair and watched as she cradled her left wrist in her right hand. The lesson hadn’t lasted for much longer than an hour before Frankie had fallen forward and caught herself with her hand. Even though her cry of pain had seemed a touch dramatic, I’d still insisted on taking her to the medic to get it looked at.
“Hopefully this won’t ruin your promising career as a professional snowboarder,” I joked.
“Very funny,” she deadpanned.
“Scootch over,” I said.
The thick white paper covering the bench crinkled as I squeezed in next to her and slung my arm over her shoulders. “I still maintain you were doing okay before you fell.”
She snorted and shook her head, her eyes facing the wooden door with a large anatomical chart of the human body affixed to it. Except this one was a skier, and all of the arrows pointed to the most common injuries.
“I sucked and you know it.”
She had spent more time on her butt than riding down the mountain, but that was typical for a beginner. And even through all the complaining, I had been able to see the determination in her eyes. Like a spark that couldn’t be put out. Typically, teaching beginner lessons was painfully boring. But I’d had more fun this morning than I’d had since I arrived in Key Ridge.
“I mean…I didn’t say you were a natural,” I said.
That got a breath of a laugh out of her.
Frankie’s weight shifted slightly into me. Everything about the simple gesture grounded me in the moment. Her body pressed against mine felt like the most natural thing in the world.
I had a sneaking suspicion Frankie was exaggerating her injury. She’d been tired and cranky toward the end, and the moment I asked if she was okay after that last fall, she’d clutched her wrist delicately and gave a pitiful moan. But when we reached the bottom of the hill, she had picked up her snowboard with the same supposedly injured hand before I snatched it away from her.
I wouldn’t press it though.
“Do you believe me now that snowboarding isn’t meant for me?” she asked.
“You want to try skiing instead? I’m not as skilled of an instructor, but I can give it a try?—”
“Oliver.” She elbowed me in the ribs.
My arm was still draped over her shoulders. It felt heavy and I was hyperaware of it. It was probably past the point of a friendly gesture, but I couldn’t get myself to pull away. It felt too good to have her tucked into me. She didn’t move away either.
“Sorry if I pushed you,” I finally said. “It’s kind of my thing.”
She tilted her head so that she could glance at me. It wasn’t lost on me that our lips were only inches apart.
“Do all of your hobbies involve defying death?” she asked.
“Pretty much. What else is there?”
“I don’t know. Knitting?”
The grin spread easily across my face as I continued to stare into her eyes. “Can you really picture me knitting?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You’d have to teach me.”
She scrunched up her cute little button nose and finally looked away. “I don’t know how to knit.”
That made me laugh. “Then why are you trying to force it on me?”
“I wasn’t,” she said defensively. “I was just offering it as an option for a more relaxed hobby that doesn’t land you in the emergency room.”
“I’ve never broken a bone,” I said.
Her forehead crinkled with disbelief. “Never? ”
“Never,” I repeated, intentionally leaving out the time I had fallen while skateboarding when I was fourteen. Eleven stitches for a gash on my upper arm. Still had the scar to prove it.
“What are your hobbies if you don’t knit?” I asked.
That question seemed to take her by surprise. “Oh, um…” Frankie thought for a moment but the silence was becoming drawn out.
“You don’t have any hobbies, do you?” I asked.
Damn. When I had insisted on showing Frankie a good time while she was in town, I hadn’t realized how badly she needed it.
“I have hobbies,” she insisted.
“Then name one.”
“What is this, a job interview?” she asked, shrugging my arm off her shoulder. I instantly felt the loss as she shifted an inch away from me.
“No, but shouldn’t you be preparing anyway?”
I’d meant it as a joke but I could tell by the way Frankie stiffened that I’d said the wrong thing. The quietness in the room nearly strangled me. I slipped off the bed and moved in front of her so that I could better search her face. She was chewing on her lip, deep in thought. Her eyes stared straight through my chest.
“Hey,” I said softly, reaching out my hand to brush her chin, but I retracted it once I thought better of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
She looked broken, and I fucking hated that.
“I don’t have any hobbies, okay? It’s pathetic and I know it. Ever since I got laid off, I’ve come to realize that my career was my only personality trait. I have nothing else.”
“That isn’t true.” It couldn’t be. I’d only known her since she’d been careerless, and everything about her captivated me .
“It is though. I have no outside interests. I’m not good at anything else—you’ve seen me bartending. And now snowboarding. That job was all I had,” she insisted, absentmindedly twisting her hair.
Her distant expression made me want to pull her into a hug. Physical touch had always come easily to me, but with Frankie, it was different. Every brush of her skin against mine sent me straight back to our kiss that first night I arrived. Did she even think about it?
“Well, that’s not you anymore. Use this time to get to know yourself. Try something new. I told you I’d help. Just because this didn’t go to plan, doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you.”
Her lips twitched into a faint smile. “You still want to hang out with me after today?” she asked.
“I promise I’ll pick a safer activity.” I put a hand over my chest.
She studied me for a moment. I couldn’t deny that her gaze on me felt good. It was no secret that I liked attention, but her attention was quickly becoming my favorite.
“What’s in this for you, Oliver?”
“What do you mean? Spending time with you. Do I need an ulterior motive?”
“You must have better things to do.” Her voice was soft. She did that a lot—hovered between her feisty side and a quieter, more vulnerable version of herself.
“I don’t,” I said.
She considered this. “How long are you even in town for?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Dunno. Lessons only go for the rest of the season and that’s over in a few weeks.”
“And then…”
“And then…your guess is as good as mine. ”
She scoffed. “How can you live like that? Floating through life without a plan?”
“How can you live a life that’s so rigidly structured you forgot how to have fun?”
She winced, and I regretted my words. But she was trying to burrow into something. Something deeper than the surface, and my entire nature repelled that.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“It’s okay. You’re not wrong. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong either. You have to have a plan, Oliver. Goals. Things that motivate you.”
It felt pointless to argue with her, but I didn’t agree. My aimlessness had gotten me this far in life, and I saw no reason to change.
“Tell you what.” Frankie snapped her fingers—the ones attached to her so-called injured wrist. My suspicion that she was faking it heightened even more, but I suppressed my smirk. “I’ll let you continue to drag me on whatever activities you deem fun, if you let me help you come up with some goals and figure out what’s next.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on.” She held her hands together and blinked up at me, the same move I’d already used on her. The fact that she actually looked excited about this struck a chord with me. “Please.” She blinked again, her lips forming a pout. It took everything in me not to grab the back of her neck and haul her mouth onto mine.
“Fine,” I relented. Not because I wanted Frankie to help me with some stupid two-year plan or whatever the hell it was she had in mind. But because it felt like she needed this. Needed to offer me something that she felt she was good at.
“Yay!” she clapped excitedly, and I arched an eyebrow.
“Careful. Your wrist. ”
“Oh.” She looked guilty and instantly pulled her hands apart, cradling her wrist again. At this point, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she accidently picked the wrong one.
“You know, you could have just told me you were done for the day,” I said. “You didn’t have to do this whole injury charade.”
Before she could respond, there were two short knocks at the door and it swung open. The nurse hurried in, looking out of breath. I knew for a fact she had her hands full as the only on-site medical professional on the ski hill.
“Alright, let’s see the wrist,” she said, holding out her hand to Frankie. It only took her a minute of bending and assessing before she dropped it back in Frankie’s lap. “Looks fine to me,” she said. “Doesn’t even seem swollen or sprained.”
I smirked over at Frankie, but she didn’t meet my eyes. “Isn’t that great news? We can get you back out there.”
Frankie frowned and looked pleadingly at the nurse. “Please tell this crazy man that it would be in my best interest not to go speeding down a mountain any time soon.”
The nurse looked up from her tablet. “Maybe you could give it another go next season. Would be a shame for you to end up back in here.”
“A shame indeed,” Frankie said, shooting me a warning glare. Something told me that regardless of if she was faking this or not, I wouldn’t be able to push her into giving boarding a second shot.
We left the medical room. The mountain was now crawling with tourists after the thirty minutes we’d spent inside.
“Well, Frankie. It’s been a fun morning.”
“Has it?”
“It has.”
She barely came up to my neck and craned her head to look up at me, shielding her eyes from the sunrays. “You’re a strange guy, Oliver.”
That made me chuckle. “Don’t I know it.”
“I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Sooner than you think. We’ve got fun to catch up on.”
She snorted at that. “Alright, then. I’ll start brainstorming goals for you in the meantime.”
It bothered me a little that she saw me as a project. But then again, wasn’t I doing the same to her? Dragging her around, trying to prove there was more to life than some stupid job?
What she didn’t realize was that her plan was going to be a hell of a lot harder to pull off than mine.