Chapter 10 Hayden #2
Ryder’s eyes lose their luster as he realizes I’m not taking the bait, but before they can soften completely, he blinks the indifferent mask back into place. Casually lifting a shoulder he replies, “Like I told his parents, I don’t see why he couldn’t do that again and then some.”
“I heard. It’s just that riding with a prosthesis is really hard. Most people opt to ski, and they either do it with one leg, or they sit on a mono-ski. I don’t want you to get his hopes up just because it’ll make him feel good.”
He opens his mouth to protest. Shuts it. Opens it again as he cocks his head to the side. “You don’t know much about snowboarding, do you?”
My spine prickles with agitation, and I lose control of my calm voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?” For real, why can’t I keep my emotions level around this guy?
Ryder leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “It means you’ve probably never done it, otherwise you’d know that all your weight and all your steering are on your front leg. Max rides with his real leg forward, so he doesn’t have to rely on his bum leg to ride.”
I have no idea what that means. No retort. But I can’t let him have the last word. “Don’t call it a bum leg. It’s rude.”
He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “My bad – his prosthesis. Is that better?”
“Yes.” I smile with false sweetness.
“How are you even in charge of this place if you haven’t snowboarded? Shouldn’t you know how to do the things you offer?”
“We offer lots of things here, I can’t master them all.” I lift my chin up like some snooty elitist before I can stop myself. He’s getting to me, dammit.
“What have you mastered then?” The playful smirk is gone, replaced by a skeptical glare.
“I… Well… I’ve mastered creating and marketing several different options to meet the needs of our guests.”
Ryder snorts. “You create and market activities you don’t even know how to do?”
“I’m a passable skier.” I feel my shoulders rounding under the weight of his gaze.
“Unbelievable.” He shoots off the couch with raised arms, drawing my eye to the way his snow pants hug his lean hips.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m the one out of line for telling that kid’s parents what I think he’s capable of.
” He points to his chest, snapping me out of my lusty haze.
I hate that he’s got a point. Plus, he looked really confident on the board, so I can’t argue his talent or knowledge of the sport.
“We just have to be careful about over-promising.” I steer us back to the real issue while standing my ground. After all, I’d say the same thing to everyone else, they just wouldn’t take issue with it.
“I’m not overpromising,” he grits through a clenched jaw.
“Maybe if you had an inkling of what it’s like to ride a snowboard, you’d know that.
” He looks me over with barely contained scorn and grabs his board before stomping out the door, leaving me to wonder if it’s futile to think we’ll ever find common ground.
***
It’s dark out by the time I lock up, and though my recent trip to the grocery store means I’ve got plenty of options for dinner, I’m in no mood to cook. Ryder’s unpredictable attitude has a way of siphoning my energy, so rather than settle for microwave pizza, I head over to Murphy’s.
Sloan, who I haven’t seen since the day he invited himself into my office, waves me over to the empty stool next to him.
Though I’m even less interested in being social than eating frozen food, my feet carry me in his direction.
Apparently, my body knows it’d be impolite to ignore the boss’s boyfriend even if my mind wants to feign ignorance.
My tired smile is about a quarter of the size of his as I plop onto the seat.
“I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to set a date for happy hour, but things have just been crazy. Have you met Lennon?” He gestures to a blond man wearing a wool skirt behind the bar.
“No.” I subtly wipe my suddenly clammy hand on my pants before reaching for the hand that extends toward me. I’ve never seen a guy in a skirt before, but what’s even more surprising is that it seems to work on him.
“How have I been missing you?” Lennon asks after the introductions are made. “I’m here every day.”
“I’ve only been in a few times, and I usually get something to go.”
“Not tonight,” Sloan declares. “Since planning happy hour was a bust, we’ll just have to do it, right now.”
Lennon tells one of the bartenders to cover for him—evidently, it’s a slow night—and the three of us slide into a corner booth with a bucket of beers.
The conversation is light, as it usually is when you’re just getting to know people, though both men are surprisingly easy to talk to.
They’ve got the same habit I do of getting immersed in their work, though they’re trying to find a little more balance after years of putting their social lives on hold.
Sloan is an accomplished skier, always looking for people to ride with, while Lennon and his boyfriend snowboard.
Or try to, anyway. Evidently Lennon’s out of practice, and his boyfriend is learning.
The boyfriend, Axel, is a pro dirt-biker getting ready to offer clinics, and a new mountain bike park is in the works for the summer season.
Listening to Lennon and Sloan tout all that Katah Vista has to offer, I realize I’m living in possibly one of the best hubs for outdoor activity in the country.
Ironic, since I’m not overly good at getting outdoors myself despite the fact my entire career is based on getting people exposed to the outdoors.
It was never my intent to sit behind a desk all the time, just a byproduct of trying to honor my cousin’s memory with my work, so having a group of locals to help me remember to have fun will be a nice change of pace.
Especially if they can teach me things I’ve got zero experience with, like mountain biking.
Halfway through our beers, Carter makes an appearance, and with my spirits lifted a bit from the conversation I don’t even mind that the first thing he says to me is about Ryder.
“What’s the word on our newest instructor? Has he been on the mountain yet?” Carter helps himself to a beer as Lennon signals someone to bring more.
“Yes, actually. He took a client up today.”
“And?” Carter’s brows disappear behind his hair.
“And I can see why you want Ryder on the mountain. He’s very capable.” My pride won’t let me say more than that since I was initially so skeptical.
“Wait, you actually got Ryder on a board?” Lennon’s jaw drops. “People have been trying to do that for months. That was after they spent the summer trying to get him on a bike, but he ignored everyone.”
“It was his doing.” I have just enough alcohol in me to point the finger at Carter. “And Max’s.”
“Who’s Max?” Sloan asks.
“One of our guests. He’s a fan of Ryder’s so his parents personally requested him as an instructor, and the little guy is hard to say no to. They’re supposed to ride again tomorrow.” My nose wrinkles before I can stop it, which Carter doesn’t miss.
“You don’t sound too happy about that.”
“I’m torn. On the one hand, Max loved it, and I want him to have a good experience. On the other, Ryder implied Max would be able to ride normally, and that’s not really his call to make.”
“Who’s call would it be then?” Lennon’s question isn’t skeptical, just curious.
I take another sip of beer and lick the remnants from my lips.
“Normally, it would be the instructors, but since this is the first time he’s worked with someone who has a prothesis, a child no less, I’m not sure he’s got enough experience to know whether it’s true. I don’t want Max to get his hopes up.”
“Fair point.” Carter nods his approval. “But Ryder is an expert on snowboarding, and I assume that makes him a pretty good judge of skill regardless of whether someone has a prosthesis or not. Could he be right?”
“I don’t know.” I chew the corner of my lip. “I’m not a snowboarder so he’s speaking a foreign language to me, which he didn’t seem to appreciate.”
“Would knowing how to snowboard help you understand what Ryder says about Max’s progress?” Carter eyes me over the bottle as he takes a sip, and my mouth goes dry. The answer I should give and the answer I want to give are not the same.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Being professional sucks.
“Excellent.” Carter pulls his phone from his pants pocket as he rises from the table. “Be right back.”
When he returns with a beaming grin it takes every ounce of strength I possess to feign excitement with his news.