6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Juniper
M ovie night went better than expected. It had been the first time I was sure I’d heard Rachel’s authentic voice, no persona attached. Maybe socializing more wouldn’t be the death of me as I thought.
Once the delivery of skis and assorted equipment arrived the following morning, I knew I’d need help. Sasquatch was ready to go in his vest, but this would require all three of us, so I made my way to Rachel who was organizing foam noodles near the indoor pool. As I approached, I could hear her on the phone as she shuffled the noodles into their storage space. I stopped in the doorway, not wanting her to catch me eavesdropping. If she did, she’d likely ask why I was listening in and to that, I didn’t have an answer.
“Falling apart without me? Come on, that sounds a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
She spoke with a light tone, her last sentence a gentle teasing more than a harsh criticism. As my lips scowled, whether I wanted them to or not, I couldn’t help but wonder who she was talking to. An ex-partner, perhaps? Rachel had been here two months now, and yet, I hadn’t bothered to ask her what she’d left behind in Florida.
Maybe it was time I did.
“Listen, I don’t think there’s anything you could offer me that would bring me back.”
Rachel went to say something else, but whoever was on the phone with her must have cut her off without realizing it. As I waited for her to say something back, anything to help me better understand the context of the phone conversation—even though I had no right to be listening—I became hyperaware of my breathing. To calm myself down, I focused on the pool. The water distorted Rachel’s reflection, but I could see her curls tied back in a ponytail today, making room for her dangling earrings. When I looked away from the water and dared to peer around the archway, I saw today’s pair were lucky cats.
“So you’re telling me you’d be willing to give me a $10,000 raise and a stake in the company, plus cover relocation expenses to bring me back?”
Her old job.
A part of me felt relief it wasn’t an old flame, but I brushed that aside. I had no right to feel that way about her: I barely knew her. But the realization of the offer they made her dawned on me, and that tendril of possessiveness wrapped itself around my brain and heart.
I couldn’t lose her. The ski lodge couldn’t lose her. We were just getting started, and maybe I’d spent too much time being a guarded porcupine. Maybe—
“I’m sorry, but my answer is still no. You know, if you valued me that much, then where the hell was all of this at my performance review over the summer, huh?”
There was a bite to her voice I’d never heard before, even when she and I were at each other’s throats a few weeks ago.
Dare I say it’s kind of hot?
Wait, what am I thinking?
I shook the thought off as she continued. “You know, if I remember correctly, you gave me a ‘Meets Expectations’ and the bare minimum raise that, given inflation, was technically a slap in the face. If you really needed me so badly the company’s entire marketing department was going to fall apart at the seams without me, then where was this energy two months ago, huh?”
Her free hand found a spot on her hip as she shifted her weight and tapped her foot. Whatever the other person said made her sigh through her nose.
“Listen, I appreciate you thinking of me. Really, I do. But this is far too late. And frankly, I’m really happy here, so I’m not exactly willing to up and go back.”
Her words sent a feeling through my chest I hadn’t experienced in years. While I knew none of that had anything to do with me—my reception wasn’t exactly the warmest—it still stroked my ego. Ignoring the goosebumps rising on my arms beneath my flannel, I waited until she hung up before I proceeded forward.
“I knew you were there.”
I cringed. “Here I thought I was discreet. I hope you didn’t say that for my sake.”
Rachel shook her head. “I’d never say anything for your sake. I meant it. Fuck ‘em.”
As much as I fought it, I couldn’t help my smile. “Listen, Rachel, I’m sure I’m not the warmest and fuzziest guy, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“You’re not. But you’re my boss, you know? I don’t need you to be.”
For a reason I couldn’t identify, it felt like a blow. I swallowed it back. “Well, regardless, I shouldn’t be an asshole. I’ll work on that.”
I turned to leave, heading back out the door. I’d forgotten what I’d come to ask her about anyway, so there was no point in lingering. Before I could try to trace my steps to recall why I was here in the first place, she called my name.
I turned, looking at her. “Yes?”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re an asshole.” She brushed some of her brown curls out of her face, and now, I noticed some of the auburn highlights. Some part of me wondered what they smelled like, as the other part of me chastised myself for being a fucking creep.
“At least that makes one of us.”
Rachel laughed. Maybe it’d always been this way and I’d finally woken up, but her laugh sounded like a melody. “You want to work on something? Work on that self-deprecation. Then we’ll talk about if you’re an asshole or not.”
“If I’m your boss, shouldn’t I be the one telling you what to do? Not the other way around?”
She winked. “I’ll work on that.”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the emotions stirring within me. It had been a long time since I’d last allowed myself to have fun, never mind flirt, and the idea of doing that with someone under my payroll didn’t feel right.
But I couldn’t deny this new way I looked at her, especially in the wake of almost potentially losing her to her old job. There was no pretending I felt anything other than possessiveness when she’d been on the phone, and I’d only be lying to myself if I denied that and the rest of it. Sasquatch tugged at the hem of my coat, pulling me back to reality and reminding me of why I was here in the first place.
“Say, I got some new gear for the ski rental booth. The packages should show up here any minute. Care to help me unload?”
“Yeah, I got you. I’d just wrapped up in here, so perfect timing.”
“Stuff might get pretty heavy, so we’ll have to tag team it.”
“Between the three of us, we should be able to make it work.”
Tidying up the rental booth would either give me a necessary distraction or make everything worse. At least I’d be able to say I tried.
We made the short trek outside to the back of the lodge where the ski rental sign hung above the small log hut. To my delight, the truck was small enough to drive back here without running down anything, so the boxes were stacked neatly against the door, still on their pallet.
We worked in sync wordlessly. Rachel let me take the lead on the lifts so I could make sure I wouldn’t make my back worse, and if something was too heavy, she found creative solutions for how to push them through without having to pick anything up.
“When you’re a weakling like I am,” she explained, “and had to order everything for a home office on Amazon, then you figure out how to do this real quick.”
“How much shit did you order?”
“Not that much, thank you very much. You gotta keep in mind my apartment in Orlando was so tiny, it was pathetic. They reimbursed up to $300 worth of home office supplies for managers, which included me by a technicality. I treated myself to a really nice standing desk and office chair. But trying to find the perfect place for them to fit? Oof.”
Before I could laugh, the comment about her apartment dawned on me. “Is the suite an okay size?”
“If you’re thinking of mocking me for needing space as a single woman, then save your breath. I don’t need much, and the suites are bigger than my old apartment. I appreciate you letting me live here for now.”
“I wasn’t going to mock you for that.” She rose an eyebrow as if to say what I was thinking: I needed to work on my tone. I quickly added, “Though I can’t blame you for thinking that.”
“Well, hey,” she said as she slid some skis out of a box and propped them against the wall in their respective spots. “At least you’re self-aware.”
I ripped into one of the cardboard boxes, ready to retort right back to her, but froze when I was met with the snowboarding boots I’d planned to offer for rent. The bulky white shoes seemed to stare back at me, reaching into the depths of my soul. I saw the promise of new opportunities for people who would use these shoes, but it also reminded me of everything that led to this moment.
I didn’t miss my old career. I didn’t miss the lack of privacy, not having any hobbies, the press in my face whenever they could, or the pressures the sport put on my body even well before the accident. But that didn’t mean the accident and everything that followed didn’t leave behind invisible scars.
As she noticed my silence, Rachel looked at me. “You look deep in thought.” She didn’t move from her spot but continued unboxing the cash register.
“Just thinking. This is the first time I’ve been face-to-face with some of this stuff in a long time, not counting those parkas and gloves I gave you. I hid a lot of it away or sold a lot with a burner account on eBay and a fake name.” I was well aware I could have made a killing by giving it to some auction house, but money was the last thing on my mind.
“Are you feeling okay?”
My gut reaction was to be snarky, something like, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” That’s how I would have responded to anybody else.
But Rachel was here to do a job, not because she was out to get me. The logical part of my brain knew that Allison was right. So instead of my go-to bitter bullshit, I answered her earnestly. “To my own surprise, yes.”
“Good. That’s good.” Rachel leaned against the counter after she put the new cash register on it. “I know it’s taken me a hot minute to get used to not having to do some corporate tango, so this might sound strange coming from me. But if you ever aren’t feeling okay, I’m more than happy to lend an ear.”
And there she was: Rachel Friedman, with no fake pitch in her voice and a relaxed stance. Between our movie night and today, I felt like I finally got a glimpse at who she really was.
About fucking time.
Wanting to extend the same courtesy to her despite my tower-high walls, I said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As the sky fully darkened, I closed out the open apps on my phone without paying much attention before setting it and my smartwatch down on their respective chargers. I was so tired from the long workday that my vision was fuzzy, but no matter how much I tried to fall asleep, my brain refused to turn off.
Instead, every time I closed my eyes, I saw Rachel and her funky earrings.
Now that she realized she didn’t have to adhere to bullshit corporate politics anymore, I felt like I was finally learning who the real Rachel was—and just as I had, I could have lost her to her past. I didn’t dare think how differently that conversation could have gone, especially if I had rejected her movie night like I initially planned.
But then, my brain betrayed me, straying to other thoughts like what else could have happened during our movie night.
I was a grown-ass man. At thirty years old, I was beyond making out and feeling girls up in the back row of a theater. I hadn’t heard anyone use the phrase “Netflix and chill” since my early 20s, but that didn’t stop me from envisioning the soft fleece of Rachel’s red and yellow blanket against my bare skin and her fingers trailing down my abdomen.
This was new.
To no one but myself, I said, “Can I not think about her for two whole fucking seconds?”
But I knew that if I rode this wave and got along with it, I’d actually be able to get some sleep. As I slipped my hand beneath my boxer’s waistband, I couldn’t help but think at how wrong jacking it to the thought of one of my employees was. But that only made my cock twitch in my hand, turning me on even more.
Fucking hell, what is wrong with me?
My mind wandered to her hair: what those curls of hers would look like cascading down her bare shoulders and breasts, what they may look like beneath her sweaters and flannels that were always a tad tighter on her chest than the rest of her torso. I wondered how the brown strands would feel tangled in my fingers and what noises she’d make if I gave them a gentle tug.
As I stroked myself, I avoided thinking about how messed up this was and how I shouldn’t be doing this, since that only seemed to make me harder. It didn’t have to mean anything.
The sudden thought of her sitting on my face and using my mouth to get herself off popped into my mind. I could feel my body tense, my release so close and desperately needed—needed so I could finally stop thinking about Rachel like this. My thighs trembled as my head fell back, hitting my pillow beneath me, and—
Rachel’s voice came through my phone.
“Juniper? You okay?”
I froze. Fear washed over me as I rolled over with trepidation.
How long had she been on the line?
How did I manage to call her? It must have been when I set my phone down.
Had I said anything?
Did I moan her name?
Please, tell me I didn’t moan her name.
I held my phone up to my ear. “Sorry, I must have butt-dialed you.”
“Ah, that would make sense. I heard a lot of rustling about.”
I swallowed. “My apologies. It’s late and you must be tired. Sorry if I kept you up.”
“Nah, I was just catching up on some reality shows. Watching them before bed helps me turn my brain off.”
“Well, I feel better about not keeping you, then.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. If you’re having trouble sleeping, you and Sasquatch are more than welcome to head across the hall.”
I should say no.
“What are you watching now?”
“This one is about couples who meet in separate rooms, so they don’t actually see each other until after they get engaged. And most of these people are more shallow than they lead on, so it gets very messy.”
“Do you riff that like you do movies?”
Why the hell am I still talking?
“We can if you’d like.”
Say no.
“Eh, what the hell. I’ll be right there.”
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Sweet! See ya shortly.”
When she hung up, I set my phone down and stared at my still-hard cock. There was no way I could walk over to her room like this.
“Fuck.”
As luck would have it, hearing her voice—a softer and more natural tone since she started, now that we’d warmed up to each other—was enough to push me over the edge. Once I cleaned myself up, I splashed my face with some water and tied my hair back into a quick bun.
“Come on, Squatch,” I said once I tossed on some black joggers and an oversized hoodie. “Time for me to torture myself.”
With two knuckles, I knocked on her door. Sasquatch bounded inside once she opened it, but I stood still, afraid to cross the barrier too soon. Even in her sweatpants and matching sweater, she looked well put together. She stepped to the side, allowing me in wordlessly, and I strode over to her couch and spread my arms out on top of it like I owned the place.
Well, technically I did. But that made matters worse.
Once Rachel sat next to me, Sasquatch jumped on the couch next to her. As he rested his head on her thigh, Rachel wasted no time scratching his head. With her other hand, she grabbed the remote to hit play and then leaned into my side. From this proximity, I could smell the raspberry shampoo in her hair.
Oh.
Oh .
Fuck.
“Sorry, is this okay?” She looked up at me with those wide amber eyes of hers and I nearly choked.
“Yeah, this is fine. Your room, after all. Get comfy.” As soon as I spoke, I felt like an idiot. Here she was, warm and cozy up against my side, and I was babbling like a teenager who’d never kissed a girl.
“You seem flustered tonight. Everything alright?”
Yeah, everything is fine except for the fact you nearly caught me masturbating to thoughts of you like a degenerate piece of shit. No big deal.
“I just… I’m sorry, Rachel. For everything. I’ve been a total piece of work. Hearing you on the phone with your old boss today got me thinking. I don’t want to create a shitty environment for you. And don’t you dare tell me it’s been fine because I know it hasn’t. I know I can be tough.”
“I appreciate that. But I meant it when I told you earlier that I don’t think you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it! Well, I did think you were an asshole when we first met. But I saw a new side of you during our movie night. You’ve been through some shit, that’s all.”
I nodded. “You have no idea.”
“If you ever want to talk about it,” she said, “then say the word.”
“Thanks. Not tonight, though. I, too, would like to turn my brain off.”
“I just started this season, so you haven’t really missed anything.”
We ragged on some contestants for a few minutes as they spoke through their pods. Then I said, “You know, this isn’t really a horrible concept.”
“I know what you mean. The people suck.”
We both laughed. “You know, there’s something to be said for people having no idea who the hell you are. It’s one of the reasons I hired you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, your resume impressed the shit out of me. You know that already. But when we spoke, you legit had no clue who I was. Not a lot of people applied for the gig, but the few that did were fan girls.”
“And on that note, I’m sorry I got so snippy with you over the reporter incident.” She twisted the ring on her right pinky. “I can see why you’d value your privacy, given everything.”
“No need to apologize. I could have handled it better.”
“Good thing you have me, right?” She looked up at me and winked, and all my lust-addled brain could think about was her winking at me while on top of me as I held her down by the legs so I could properly eat her out.
I stopped the train of thought before I could get hard again. As she’d said, I valued my privacy—and it was for that exact reason I hadn’t been with anyone romantically or sexually in years. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, so I chalked it all up to hormones and nothing more.
“Good thing, indeed.”
Maybe our movie night wasn’t a fluke, and we could coexist after all.
After two and a half episodes, when I looked over, both Rachel and Sasquatch were asleep. I didn’t have it in me to wake either of them, so I closed my eyes and willed myself to do the same, letting the background noise of the television prevent my mind from wandering too far in a dangerous direction.
My back would kill me in the morning, but that’s what my meds were for.