Chapter 7 Felix
FELIX
Two days after setting up Ellie’s dream kitchen, I come pounding down the trail and into the clearing behind the cabin, lungs burning like I’ve just sprinted up Mount Doom with Frodo in my arms.
I double over, palms on my knees, pulling in sharp gulps of air and praying my legs don’t give out underneath me. High altitude training: the gift that keeps on punishing.
I glance up at the house where I know Piper and Ellie are, but there’s no movement behind the windows. Not that I expected her to be waiting for me to get back, or even want her to be. That would be a little too domestic and couple-y for our situation. Except…I kind of want exactly that.
Fuck.
“Dude,” Tyler pants as he flops onto the grass at my feet. “Stop staring at the house like a fucking creeper. You’re down bad.”
“You know the fact that I left your ass in the dust back there on the trail wasn’t by accident.” I nudge his leg with my foot. “I was sick of hearing your yapper flapping.”
“What’s the big deal? You like your sister-in-law. You’re not breaking any actual laws.”
“She’s Ian’s sister-in-law,” I say through clenched teeth. “Not mine. And I don’t like her.”
Tyler shades his eyes with his hands as he stares up at me. “You’re joking, right?”
“Sure, I can admit she’s hot. But that’s straight facts and has no bearing on—”
“There’s more to it.”
“There’s not.” My jaw is so tight it’s a wonder I can speak at all. “And she’s not just hot,” I blurt before I can stop myself. Tyler’s brows shoot up, and I instantly regret opening my mouth. “She’s more than…I mean, the way she looks is not the point.”
“I get the point.” Tyler’s slow grin infuriates me. “When’s the last time you got laid, man? Scratch that. When’s the last time you wanted to get laid?”
I roll my eyes. “You need a hobby.”
“Poking the Barlowe bear is my hobby.” He gets up and dusts off his shorts. “Anyway, we should hit the bars in Vail this weekend. You need a release valve before you blow your top. There’s always a girls’ trip or bachelorette party—”
“No bachelorette parties,” I say darkly. That’s how Piper and I ended up in bed together in the first place. Lightning doesn’t need to strike twice.
He snorts. “How about you just swipe right on someone normal and—”
“Why is my dick and what I do with it any of your business?”
“Because it’s screwing with your focus.” He lowers his voice.
“And probably your sanity. I’ve never seen you wound this tight.
You need to chill, Felix. Chilling is your superpower.
Whatever it is you’re trying to prove on the field this season, it might be easier if you didn’t have a ticking time bomb of unresolved sexual tension sleeping down the hall. ”
“I bet Gronk’s coach never told him to chill.”
“First, you’re not Gronk, and second, I’m saying it as much as your friend as your trainer.” He softens his tone. “I know this situation with Ellie is a lot to deal with.”
“You have no idea,” I say. I mean for my tone to come across as scathing, but it sounds more like bone-deep desperation. “You can’t possibly know.”
“That’s fair. But—”
I shake my head. “No more, Tyler. It is what it is, and I’m doing my level fucking best here.
I’m hoping to get Ellie settled with her new family by the time I have to report to training camp in late July.
But only if the attorney finds people who are a good fit for her. Either way, we’re going to be fine.”
Saying the words out loud should make them feel true. It doesn’t.
His brows lower. “You’re sure that’s the right way to go?”
“It’s the only way,” I insist, even though I’m not sure of anything at the moment.
Well, I’m certain that Piper looks like a literal angel in the morning light, and Ellie’s laugh makes my chest feel like it might crack open. I’m also pretty sure I’ve stopped sleeping through the night because I lay awake thinking of them both.
None of which I’m about to admit to Tyler.
Piper is great with Ellie, which is no surprise, and her help gives me a lot more time for training. But she’s also got me spun up in about a million different ways. As irritating as I find it, Tyler might be right. Maybe letting off some steam is the right call.
It certainly worked in that Denver hotel room.
“Looks like you have a visitor,” Tyler says as we get closer to the house.
I follow his gaze to where a compact SUV is parked in the cabin’s circular driveway. My heart stutters like I’m some teenage kid about to get in trouble. No one knows I’m here. And according to Piper, only her sister and the book club gang know she’s run away to the cabin.
If Sadie’s here, there’s a good chance Ian’s with her. The last thing I want is my know-it-all older brother finding out about Ellie before I have things worked out for her future.
If it’s not someone we know, then who the hell is it? What if something’s wrong? What if Piper needed help and I wasn’t here?
I take the stairs to the back porch two at a time, busting through the door to the house with all the tact of a bull in a china shop.
“Who’s here?” I demand, coming around the corner toward the kitchen, my heart still doing that weird hammering thing.
Piper frowns and holds one finger up to her lips. “Ellie just went down for her nap, and she’s not going to stay that way with you bellowing.”
The relief that floods through me is embarrassing. She’s fine. They’re both fine. Of course they are. I’m being ridiculous.
I don’t recognize the other woman in the kitchen, but Piper doesn’t seem bothered, and that’s what’s important.
In fact, there’s a smile playing around the edge of her mouth like my mini-freak out amuses her.
And as long as she’s okay, I’ll sing and dance and do back flips to keep the smile on her face.
Shit. When did Piper’s comfort become the barometer by which I measure my own?
I run a hand along the back of my neck. “Hey.” I nod at the woman, silently hoping she’ll get around to shutting her mouth, which is gaping wide at this point.
“Maybe you want to put a shirt on,” Piper suggests conversationally as she glances between me and our houseguest. But there’s something heated in her gaze that makes my skin feel too tight.
Get it together, Barlowe.
I left the house wearing a shirt, but it was hot with the sun beating down, so at some point I shucked it and tucked it into the back of my shorts. I pull it on, hyperaware of Piper’s gaze tracking my movements, just as Tyler enters the kitchen.
“Hey, Piper, who’s your friend?” he asks, which sounds way more normal than my Neanderthal entrance.
What is it about Piper Hart that short-circuits my brain?
“This is Mindy McMurry.” Piper raises a brow in my direction, clearly agreeing that I need to get it together. “She owns True Kitchen, a meal delivery service in Vail. Felix apparently ordered meals from her.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. That’s right. I’d contracted with the home chef I found online because there are things I like to do in the kitchen—not those kinds of things, get your mind out of the gutter—but making healthy meals is not one of them.
And Piper needs to eat. She barely touched her dinner last night, pushing the chicken around her plate like a kid avoiding vegetables.
“Nice,” Tyler says, moving forward and reaching out a hand. And there’s more of that social grace that I apparently left on the trail. “I’m Tyler Bron, Felix’s personal trainer. Did he talk to you about his nutrition plan for the next few weeks, macros, and the protein he—”
“I talked to her about everything,” I bark, probably sounding like an ass. Again. “Thanks, Mindy. I forgot you were coming today. If everything’s unloaded, I think we’re done here. You can go.”
She blinks and then nods slowly. “Oh, okay.”
“Why are you acting so weird?” Piper interrupts, glaring at me, hands on her hips.
Because everything about this situation is weird, including some of the instructions I gave to the home chef, and I want her out of here before she shares any of those embarrassing details.
Tyler jabs a finger in my direction. “Are you trying to get rid of her so she doesn’t reveal that you requested a bunch of chicken wing fat bomb meals?”
“I bake my chicken wings,” Mindy says, sounding affronted.
Tyler’s ears go pink. “Sorry, no wing shade intended. It’s just that Felix—”
“My meal plan is on point,” I cut in. “I’m sure Mindy has other things to do.”
“Every one of the meals adheres to the nutrition guidelines Felix gave me.” She’s not paying attention to me, suddenly locked in a stare-down with Tyler that reminds me of two defensive linemen sizing each other up. “Which, as he explained in his email, adheres to the guidelines you gave him.”
“That’s great,” Tyler sputters. “But it doesn’t explain why—”
“I also prepared food for Piper and Ellie.” Her gaze flicks from Tyler to Piper, her features softening slightly. “Felix was way more concerned about your meals than his own choices.”
Oh, no. She didn’t just say that out loud.
Piper’s head whips toward me, eyes wide.
“I don’t mind the same food on repeat.” I raise my hands, palms facing out like I’m ready to ward off an attack. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years.”
But the thought of Piper living on toast and orange juice when she’s clearly not feeling well is another thing keeping me up at night, so I may have sent Mindy an extra email. Or ten.
“You didn’t need to order anything for me,” Piper says. Her voice has gone soft, like she’s handling something delicate. That something might be me. Or not. “I can take care of myself.”
“Toast isn’t a food group,” I tell her, hating how much I sound like I want to take care of her. Even though I do, way too much.
“I eat stuff besides toast.”
“Not since I’ve been here.”
“I like toast.” She lifts her chin in that way that makes me want to either kiss her or argue with her, maybe at the same time.