Chapter 4
Chapter four
Hayden
The rhythmic clicking of keys compressing reverberates around the room as I furiously type out an email I know I’ll never send, but feel better writing.
Of all the nerve—Carter’s charity case shows up here smelling like a distillery when the whole point of this community service thing is to make up for his drinking problem—and he thinks I’ll let him on the mountain in that state?
He’d probably end up running into one of the participants and getting the program sued. What an ass.
He’s lucky he has friends in high places, because I’d never put someone like him around people who are less fortunate.
Not only does his attitude scream entitled—he’s got all the physical capability people in this center lack, and he’s too insensitive to realize how he wastes what other people were robbed of.
“I can ride in any condition.” I punch the keys harder as I recall his arrogant remark. I bet he thought the same thing when he got behind the wheel, and look where that got him. Ryder’s damn lucky he’s still physically intact, not to mention the fact he didn’t harm anyone else.
Ryder may be a functional alcoholic, he may have a disease, but that doesn’t absolve him from responsibility. He can drink himself stupid every night for the rest of his life so long as he does it without driving. That’s not a big ask. Or it shouldn’t be.
God forbid the rules apply to Ryder, arrogant dick.
I can’t believe Carter thinks this is a good idea. When I interviewed with him, I got the impression he was tough but fair, and devoted to both the resort and the town. I sort of admired the man. Now I’m wondering if he presented a false front, or if I was too blinded by ambition to see the truth.
My job back east was a good one, and if it offered me the opportunity to advance, I wouldn’t have left it.
Especially, not for a position where following the owner’s directive could put my reputation in jeopardy.
What makes Ryder important enough to risk my professional integrity and the success of our fledgling program?
It boils my blood to see someone like that getting special treatment. What boils it even more is that the jerk comes wrapped in such a desirable package.
Physically, Ryder’s exactly my type, and despite his surly attitude I was undeniably attracted to him.
Tall, bordering on six feet. Lean but not lanky, with piercing brown eyes that draw you in despite being slightly bloodshot.
And the hair—a disheveled mess that somehow manages to look silky to the touch, which only enhances his devil-may-care persona.
I hate that I noticed all that. That I could feel my face flushing as his eyes studied me, and not solely from anger.
Ryder has pissed-off bad boy written all over him, and with that mouth there’s no doubt he’s every bit the rebel people swoon over.
Me included, apparently, seeing as how I alternately wanted to kiss or kill him.
Why can’t the hot ones be golden retrievers?
It’s not fair that a guy like him piques my physical interest when so many genuinely great guys don’t, but I’m determined not to cave to his arrogant swagger.
I meant what I said about taking my job seriously, and that means keeping guys like him away from the people who want a safe, fun experience on the mountain.
If that means defying Carter, so be it. I may be stuck with Ryder, but that doesn’t mean our clients have to be.
Just as I delete the little rant from my screen, I hear a soft knock on the door. “Come in.”
A fair skinned brunette guy with captivating green eyes pokes his head inside as the door opens. “Is this a bad time?”
“No, please.” I gesture to the chair in front of my desk.
“Sure? You look sort of flushed. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” I offer a weak smile, shoving my keyboard back like I’ve been caught red-handed. “Just…paperwork is stressful. How can I help you.”
He approaches with a warm smile, hand extended. “I’m Sloan,” he says as we shake. “Carter’s boyfriend.”
“Uh, hi.” I swallow back the gasp that threatens to spill from my lips. Boyfriend? I deleted that email rant, right? No way this guy can know I was just daydreaming about telling Carter off.
Sloan takes a seat, oblivious to my panic. “I wanted to welcome you to town. I would’ve done it sooner, but I wanted you to have time to get settled, and then things got busy at work with the mountain opening.”
“Work?” I didn’t know Carter had a boyfriend, much less what he does for work.
“I’m a physical therapist.”
“Isn’t that a year-round business?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Yes, but there’s an uptick around opening day. People tend to be too excited to listen to their bodies and they overdo it.” He lifts his shoulders sheepishly, as if to say that’s the way of life around here. It probably is.
“I suppose you don’t live in a place like this if you’re inactive.”
“You sure don’t. The injuries I’ve seen…” He shakes his head back and forth with wide eyes. “We’ve got our fair share of amateur athletes around here, and they’re constantly pushing their limits.”
“You must be busy, then.”
“In a good way. I like helping people get back to doing what they love. I’m betting we’re alike in that way.
” Usually, I bristle when I hear statements like that—far too many people like to believe they do things for others when really they do it for personal gain, or they’re mandated to like my charity case—but Sloan’s candid expression tells me he’s sincere.
I relax enough to lean back in my chair. “How’d you get into physical therapy?”
“My sister. She got injured as a kid and I would tag along to her rehab and bug the therapist with my questions. You?”
“Same. Well, it was my cousin, and he was blind, but skiing gave him something to look forward to and inspired him not to give up.”
“I knew it.” Sloan beams.
“Knew what?”
“That we’d have that in common. Carter said you and I have similar qualities.”
I wonder if he’d still say that if he knew what I wrote in my email. Somehow, I can’t imagine Sloan calling his boyfriend a misguided philanthrope with a delusional sense of propriety.
“So, you work on the mountain, too?” I change the subject before we can walk any further down the brotherhood path. Not that I don’t appreciate Sloan’s friendliness, I’m just still a little miffed at his boyfriend.
He shakes her head back and forth. “My office is in town. Speaking of, we usually do a business owner’s lunch once a month at our friend Lennon’s restaurant. You should come to the next one. It’s in a few weeks.”
“Your boyfriend is the owner of this business, not me.”
“But you’re the guy in charge of this program, right?”
“For now,” I mumble.
Sloan has the decency to ignore that comment.
“Being in charge counts in our book. Besides, we’re pretty lax on the whole business owner criteria.
Beck’s in training to be a manager for one of Lennon’s locations, so not technically in charge of anything yet, and Carter almost never comes since it’s hard to drag him away from the resort.
At this point, it’s mostly just an excuse to get together. ”
While meeting some other locals sounds nice, I’m feeling too overwhelmed to take time off. “Thank you, but I’m not sure I’ve got time to…”
“Don’t say you have too much work,” he interrupts.
“We all do, but we still need to eat, and you need to meet people. I’ve been in your shoes and I know how easy it is to fall into work rather than getting out.
I didn’t let Carter pull that shit, and I won’t let you sit at home alone because you don’t know anyone. ”
If he’s not afraid to give me or his boyfriend orders, maybe he would call Carter a misguided philanthrope with a delusional sense of propriety.
“I’m not saying I’m not interested. Lunch is just a high traffic time here. Morning sessions are ending and afternoon sessions beginning, so it’ll be hard to get away during the busiest time of day.”
Sloan seems to chew on his lip as he considers my objection. “Maybe we’ll shift lunch to happy hour.”
“You don’t have to change plans on my account.”
“Honestly, that might work better for some of us. Plus, alcohol. I’ll ask around.
In the meantime, do you need anything?” He looks around the room with a slight grimace, no doubt noticing how bland it is.
“Some pictures or something? No offense but this room is just plain sad. I hate the idea of you sitting in here.”
Sloan seems so genuinely concerned I can’t help but laugh. “It is pretty awful, but I’m so busy I barely even notice the room anymore.”
“Okay.” He digs through a messenger bag as he rises to leave, pulling out a business card and dropping it on my desk. “If you think of anything, here's all my information. I’ll let you know about happy hour.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for stopping in.” I follow him to the door, stopping mid-stride when he abruptly turns around.
“I was the new guy not too long ago. I mean, my sister’s here so I wasn’t completely alone, but it’s still nice to have a group of people around you, and I’ve never met a better group.
I know you’ll love it here.” With a cheery wave he turns and heads out, and I realize despite the ire I have for his boyfriend right now, I do feel better.
It gives me hope that I made the right decision coming here.
And as long as Carter’s charity project doesn’t make too much trouble, I’m sure I’ll get through that just fine.