Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
We pulled into the crowded parking lot at Canada Olympic Park. The sun was shining, and the snow glistened under its rays. Families and kids swarmed the area, the dads looking like pack mules hauling all the equipment.
Rob parked, and we made our way to the rental shop. The air smelled of snow and hot chocolate, and I breathed it in deeply. Inside, the chaos was even more intense. People lined up, tried on boots, and selected skis and poles.
My pulse quickened as we waited our turn. "Have you ever skied here?" I asked, trying to keep my mind off the fact that I was about to look like an idiot in front of him.
He nodded. "A couple times. Mostly for the jumps.” My face blanched, and Rob laughed. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “No jumps for you. Promise.”
After an hour and paperwork that rivalled signing over my first-born child, Rob and I stood at the top of the bunny hill, surrounded by a sea of first-time skiers and their patient—or not-so-patient—parents. Kids in oversized snowsuits wobbled on their skis like newborn deer while adults tried to explain to them the physics of gravity and friction through food descriptions. “Pizza! French fries!”
“Do kids not understand triangles or straight lines?” I mumbled, and Rob smirked.
“A little testy.”
I rolled my eyes and lowered the goggles he’d lent me. Rob wore his sunglasses and a toque. He looked unbearably hot, so I focused on my legs, which currently felt like they were encased in concrete.
I looked down at the slope before us, which didn't seem steep until I imagined myself pointing my skis south. "This is it?" I asked, trying to mask my trepidation.
Rob nodded. "This is it."
I swallowed hard. "Great. So, what do I do first?"
He grinned. "First, you have to learn how to stand up straight." He moved behind me, placing his hands on my hips, and even through my coat and ski pants, I shivered. "You want to keep your weight balanced. Don't lean too far forward or backward."
I nodded, trying to focus on his instructions rather than the fact that his hands were on my waist. He let go and stepped back. "Next, we’ll work on your snowplow. Make a V with your skis and press the inside edges into the snow to slow down."
“Thank you for not saying pizza,” I muttered, and Rob held back a grin.
I attempted to do as he said, but my skis seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding out from under me. Rob caught me before I could faceplant, his arm wrapping around my middle. "Nice. Good try.”
My heart raced, and it had nothing to do with my near-fall. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time managing to create a semblance of a V. "Okay, now what?"
"Now, we practice moving." He positioned himself next to me, his skis parallel. "Just a little push off with your poles, and let gravity do the rest."
I gave a tentative push, and my skis started to slide. Panic set in as I picked up speed, and I instinctively leaned back. Rob reached out, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop. "Remember, stay balanced. Trust your body."
"Trust my body?" I muttered, more to myself than him. It was hard to trust something that seemed hell-bent on throwing me to the ground.
After a few more attempts, I managed to glide a few feet without falling. Rob whooped and pumped his fist in the air.
My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the fact that I was sweating under my layers. "I'm basically a pro."
He laughed. "Irrational confidence. I love it." I snorted, and he moved in front of me. "Now, I want you to try following me. I'll go slow, and you just mimic what I do."
I nodded, my heart pounding. As he started to move, I pushed off and tried to keep up. My legs wobbled, but I focused on Rob's movements. He shifted his weight, and I did the same, my skis miraculously staying under me as we made smooth, wide arcs across the hill.
We reached the bottom, and I tried to stop but ran into Rob instead. He laughed, catching me. “That was awesome.”
My breath came in short gasps, but I grinned, the adrenaline rush making me giddy. "I didn't die.”
“You didn’t die.” Rob chuckled. He reached up and lifted my goggles to look me in the eye. "You ready to try it again?"
A few moments later, we sat on the lift, the metal seat cold against my legs. I gripped the safety bar, my knuckles turning white. "This feels like a terrible idea."
Rob laughed, then moved side to side, shaking the chair. I squealed and smacked him, which only made him laugh harder. “Ow! We’re not going to fall.”
“You don’t know that!”
He grabbed my gloved hand. “I do know that. We pulled all kinds of shenanigans on these things when we were kids.”
I gripped him like he was my seeing-eye dog. “You said you were an instructor?”
He shrugged. “I taught my friends.”
My jaw dropped. “Rob Thompson. Did you lie to me?”
His grin widened. “I promoted a convincing narrative.”
I laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t come out if you weren’t an expert?”
“I knew you wouldn’t.” He pointed to my death grip. Fair enough. Rob glanced ahead. “Okay, just remember to stand up when the chair slows.”
I turned my head just as Rob started lifting the bar. “Rob?—”
“You’ll be fine. I’ve got you.”
I tried to stand, but my muscles went into lockdown. My skis wobbled, but Rob clamped a hand around my waist and basically carried me down the small slope, stopping again at the top of the bunny hill.
"Thanks." I tried to ignore the fact that my heart was still in my throat.
Rob turned to me. "Alright, let's do it again."
I nodded, trying to remember everything he'd told me the first time. Snowplow. Knees bent. Weight forward. I pushed off with my poles and followed him.
We went up and down the hill a few more times, and by the end of the day, I was able to get off the lift with only mild cartwheeling arms and make it down the hill behind Rob without stopping. I was sore and exhausted, but I felt a sense of accomplishment that I hadn't experienced in a long time.
"How are you feeling?" Rob grinned as we reached the bottom of the hill.
"Tired." I laughed, pulling up my goggles and looking at him superpositioned between the snowy pine trees and the ski lift. Happy. Grateful.
He patted my head with his glove. “Now you get to experience the best part.” Rob unclipped his skis and set them aside, then got down on his knees to help me out of mine. I stepped out and he showed me how to snap them together, then carried them for me anyway. I grabbed my poles and followed him to the lodge.
We returned the skis, poles, and boots to the rental shop, and I sighed audibly when I put my shoes back on.
Rob watched me. I grinned up at him. “Okay. That’s incredible.”
He chuckled, then motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. The air inside was warm and smelled like cinnamon and hot chocolate. We found a table near the window and ordered two steaming mugs of cocoa with whipped cream.
I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers. "This is perfect."
"Yeah, it is." Rob took a sip of his drink, then looked at me over the rim of his cup. "Just don’t tell any of the guys we came out today."
My eyes narrowed. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”
He pulled off the top to his cup. “More like Coach told us if we skied or snowboarded over the holidays, he’d kick our ass.”
I gaped at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
Rob laughed. “Because I knew I wouldn’t get injured on the bunny hill.”
I leaned in. “You knew Logan wasn’t going to take me skiing.” If Coach gave him an order, Logan would never disobey it. Staying in his good graces was too important to him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he would’ve done the same thing.”
We both knew it wasn’t true. I took a tentative sip of my hot chocolate. “Your secret’s safe with me.” My stomach swooped. How many secrets did Rob and I share at this point? I was starting to lose count.
We sat in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside the window. When we finished our drinks, we walked back to the truck and headed home.
We pulled into the driveway, and I trudged up the walkway. It wasn’t until I got out of the car that I realized the full extent of my workout. Rob unlocked the door, then I kicked off my boots and hung up my coat. I felt like a puppet without strings, my muscles deciding to go on strike after the day I'd put them through.
"Shower."
"Good plan." Rob yawned. "I'll get dinner going."
I stumbled to my room and turned on the water to let it heat up, then stripped out of my layers and stepped under the spray. The hot water felt like heaven, and I stood there for a solid ten minutes, letting it wash over me. When I finally got out, I changed into my favourite pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie.
I returned to the living room and found Rob sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. I turned on the computer and started the dial up, then plopped down next to him, my body sinking into the cushions. "I don't think I've ever been this sore in my life."
He chuckled. "That's what happens when you use muscles you didn't know existed." He handed me a bowl of spaghetti.
I took in the shredded parmesan on top. “You made this?”
“It’s not hard. Ground beef and jarred sauce.”
I laughed. “Well, it looks amazing.”
Rob turned on an episode of Seinfeld and leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the couch. I twirled a forkful of spaghetti and glanced at the screen, recognizing the opening notes of the theme music. I didn’t watch much TV, but this was definitely a favourite.
Jerry and Elaine started their banter, and within moments, Rob and I were laughing. I couldn’t help it—Jerry’s deadpan delivery and Elaine’s sharp wit had us both in stitches. Rob’s laugh was unrestrained, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back against the couch, utterly at ease.
I found myself grinning more at him than the show. His face lit up in a way that made my chest ache. How had I never noticed how perfectly his smile tilted, just a little lopsided?
Then Jerry and Elaine began laying out their friends-with-benefits rules, and my blood started to rush. Neither of us was laughing anymore. I tried to focus on the TV, but my attention drifted, drawn to the way Rob absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the armrest.
The soft glow of the screen highlighted the curve of his jaw, the way the light caught the faint stubble on his chin. I honed in on the rest of my spaghetti, and when I finished, I set my bowl on the coffee table. The movement brushed my knee against his. He didn’t pull away, and the faint contact sent a ripple through me. My body felt taut like I was holding my breath, even though I could’ve sworn my lungs were working.
I regretted setting down my bowl. At least five seconds ago, I had a prop—something to keep my hands busy. Now, feeling warm and fed, all I wanted to do was sink into him. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers just inches from my shoulder. Would it be so terrible if I let myself inch toward him? Just enough to . . .
No. I pushed the thought aside. Logan, Logan, Logan. Rob and I were friends. That was the deal. Nothing more. Nothing that would make things messy or complicated. But my body didn’t seem to care about the rules of boyfriends and loyalty. My chest ached, my skin felt too warm, and every breath I took felt too heavy.
I got up from the couch, thoughts of Logan reminding me why I’d connected to the internet. I cleared the screensaver and opened up my email. When it loaded, I scanned my inbox. Nothing from Logan.
I exhaled and disconnected, then sat back on the couch. I’d poured out real feelings in my last note to Logan, and it had been a full day. How had he not found time to respond?
Rob laughed softly at another joke, the sound low and rough, and my heart twisted. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way I was staring. But how could I not? The way his lips curled when he smirked, the way his hair fell just slightly into his eyes—it was all too much.
I forced myself from the living room and took our dishes to the sink, then sat on the floor. "I need to stretch or something. I can already tell I'm going to be a walking corpse tomorrow."
Rob nodded. "I have some Tiger Balm in my bag. Our trainer uses it after games. I can grab it for you." He pushed up to stand and walked to the door where he'd dumped his gear. "My bag reeks, but I promise the balm is clean."
I laughed. "A glowing endorsement." I was silent as I watched him unzip his bag and start rifling through his things. He walked back with the tin in his hands, then sat next to me, pulling off the lid.
I sat up straighter. "You can just give me the balm."
Rob looked up. "Oh. The trainer usually rubs it in."
My breath snagged. I swallowed hard. “You don’t have to do that.”
He dropped his eyes. “Where are you sore?”
I knew exactly what he was asking. I thought of all the places aching in my body. So many of them I could reach with my own hands, but that wasn’t what came out of my mouth. “My lower back.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I hoped he didn’t notice with the lights turned low. Rob nodded, still not looking at me. He set the top to the tin on the rug next to him. “Just lie down . . .”
I didn’t wait for him to finish that thought. I dropped to my stomach, creating a pillow for my head with my hands.
“Do you want a pillow?” Rob asked.
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine.” I knew this was a bad idea. I knew we were treading a very thin line. I knew what I would feel the second his hands hit my skin.
And I’d underestimated all of it.
The second Rob lifted the hem of my sweatshirt, heat flashed between my thighs. Holy hell. I thought about flipping over. Scrambling up and telling him I’d changed my mind. But then his hands were on me, and all rational thought faded to the back of my mind.
His hands were strong. Firm. I gasped as he pressed into my sore muscles, and he pulled back.
“Too hard?”
“No. It’s perfect.”
Rob started again, his fingers gliding easily over my skin with the lubrication of the balm. Lubrication. I should not be thinking about words like that.
I never thought about words like that.
When Logan was here, sure, there were times I got turned on, but they were few and far between unless he was actually, you know. There.
I thought about my conversation with Maddie. About having good sex. This had to be something connected to that because what I was feeling—the way my body was igniting from the inside out—that had never happened to me before. Not like this.
The balm started to cool on my skin, and my brain short-circuited. Heat. Pressure. Cold. Damn it, his hands spanned my entire lower back. His fingers wrapped over my hip bones, pressing into the soft parts of my waist.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning.
I shouldn't be enjoying this. I shouldn’t be tensing my lower half to keep from rolling my hips into the carpet.
Rob's thumbs dug into the muscles on either side of my tailbone, and I had to clench my fists to keep from arching into his touch. This was supposed to be functional. It wasn't supposed to feel this good . My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady.
Rob's hands moved up the sides of my spine, and my skin prickled. Guilt gnawed at my insides. I shouldn't want anyone's hands on me but Logan's. I shouldn't be lying there, fantasizing about anything other than relief from my sore muscles.
But I was fantasizing. Rob was naked in my shower. Using the toiletries that sat next to mine. His wet hair falling over his forehead as he looked up and grinned, nodding for me to join him.
When his fingers grazed the bottom of my bra strap, I pushed up from the carpet and quickly pulled down my shirt. Because I was a good person. A loyal person. And I didn't cheat. Not on my schoolwork, not on my friends, and definitely not on my boyfriend.
I scooted forward and sat in front of him, folding my arms so tightly across my chest, I could barely breathe. “Thanks. I think that’s good.”
Rob sat back on his heels, still holding the tin, his expression unreadable. "Anytime."
I stood, my legs wobbly. "I'm going to get ready for bed."
Rob nodded, his eyes flicking to the rug where I’d been moments before, then back up to me. "Goodnight."
I hurried to my room, my heart pounding. I closed the door and leaned against it, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. I shouldn't have felt that. I shouldn't have wanted that.
I slipped my hands under my shirt, pressing my palms flat against my stomach.
I was officially a terrible person.
I tried to calm my breathing, but when I heard Rob’s door click shut, I hurried back into the kitchen for a glass of water.
There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep. Not without . . . something. I needed to move. I needed to think. I needed to go to confession or talk to Crystal and Maddie, or?—
I froze, my eyes landing on the white card on the counter. I set my glass down, careful not to make it clink.
I pulled the letter off the counter, inspecting my name in Rob’s handwriting.
I set it down.
Picked it up again.
I sat on a stool, then stood and paced to the window.
New Year’s.
But would he even know? He hadn’t touched it since he’d set it down. If I opened it carefully . . .
I tiptoed back to the counter and snatched the card, then hurried back to my room, closing the door without a sound.