CHAPTER TWO ALARA
CHAPTER TWO
ALARA
“Excuse me?”
As all the drowned-out sounds come buzzing back to life with a simple blink, I realize I’ve been zoning out – losing myself in my overpowering thoughts and letting my worries get to me.
I can’t focus today. It’s terribly annoying, because I have tons of tasks to complete, starting with filling up the gloves section. So far, I have only emptied one box. Three more to go.
Maybe I need a coffee. No, correction, I definitely do need to inject some caffeine into my system.
I hadn’t been able to grab my daily dose from the Latte Lounge this morning, since I’d been running late to open the shop, so now I’m moving at a snail’s pace and unable to concentrate on the easiest job to ever exist.
“Hi. How can I help?” I turn my attention to the mom and her kid, looking at me with small smiles, which brings an answering beam to my own lips.
“We’re looking for the helmets?”
“First aisle at the front of the store. We have a renting service if you don’t want to invest in equipment,” I say, gesturing to the front desk where my dad is helping a customer with his purchases. “Joe would be happy to assist.”
They head that way, and I keep an eye on them just to make sure they find what they’re looking for.
It’s a busy day at Rock Snow. The cool breeze filters through the open door each time a customer walks in, voices boom from left and right, music echoes in the background. There’s never a dull day in the winter, but there’s nothing I love more than helping my parents at the store.
Since I decided to move back to Blue Ridge Springs a couple of months ago, I’ve been working full time while I figure out what to do with my rather blurry future. It’s only a temporary solution, but one I deeply love.
Rock Snow has become ever more popular over the years, as the resort has been attracting more and more tourists and winter sports lovers.
The mountains surrounding this town are sensational.
The slopes are exhilarating, the view breathtaking.
A few Olympic champions grew up around here too.
My dad’s best friend, Wyatt Wilson – a snowboarding legend – was actually the one who pushed my parents to open the gear store decades ago.
This luxurious cabin was renovated before I was even born.
The wooden panels give the place a cozy vibe, the smell of pine trees constantly circulating in the air.
The store offers a large selection of items, going from winter clothing to skiing gear to snow boards and even ice skates and hockey sticks.
By the fitting rooms, there’s a seating area with leather armchairs surrounded by high bookshelves full of all types of books about winter sports.
Deciding I’ll head out to grab a coffee once I’m done with my task, I go back to rearranging the gloves as my brother walks by me, his phone pressed to his ear. Being the owner’s daughter has its perks; I can take a break whenever I want.
“What do you mean we haven’t reached our monthly goal yet?
” Jordan asks in a hushed voice, mostly not to attract any attention.
I assume he’s talking to Freddy, his assistant.
When he senses my curious gaze on him, he grins to mask his obvious frustration, pushing his brown hair back before sauntering toward the front of the store.
“Check the stats again and call me later.”
With his recently launched winter athleisure line, Jordan has been glued to his phone – always taking business calls and sending out important emails.
His clothing brand is his most prized possession, and I’m so proud of my brother for being successful.
I’ve always envied him – he knows what he wants, he’s not a quitter, and he doesn’t let anything get in the way of his goals.
We’re complete opposites, yet we’d cross every ocean for each other.
“Oh shiiiit! Who is that motherfucker?”
Jordan’s delighted voice makes me peek around the aisle just as the store’s doors close behind two incoming customers.
I instantly recognize Gaby, my best friend, as she smiles at my dad and brother.
Behind her, there’s a man who falls into Jordan’s embrace and pats him on the back after a beat of immobility.
I don’t know how I notice the reluctance from where I stand, but the blatant difference in the two men’s energy is intriguing.
Jordan is a social butterfly, though, and would hug anyone he gets along with – even if he barely knows the person.
“What are you doing here?” Jordan asks the guy, as they part ways. My brother is practically bouncing with excitement, which makes me wonder how many Red Bulls he’s already ingested today.
Then, Jordan shifts to the side, giving me a better view.
Holy shit.
Is that—
The last person I would have expected to visit.
The realization hits me like a violent gust of wind, making my cheeks heat up in the most embarrassing way.
Diego Ramirez stands next to his sister as he answers my brother’s questions.
My pulse pounds so loudly that I don’t hear his response.
With his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, he glances casually around the place, a subtle frown on his brows.
I scoot back, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.
I never thought I’d see Diego again, especially since he’d clearly decided he was too good to stay in Blue Ridge Springs.
The memory of my unrequited, foolish crush blooms afresh like apparently dead flowers in the spring, and I hate it.
I hate that I’m reacting this way, especially after all this time.
“Crap,” I whisper, gazing at the ceiling. What is he doing here? And why hasn’t Gaby told me anything?
“Are you hiding?”
I startle as Gaby jumps into view, mischief in her smile. “Warn a girl next time,” I hiss, lightly smacking her arm with the pair of gloves I was holding against my pounding chest.
Amusement shines in her eyes. “Why are you so jumpy? Are you busy?”
I glance at the boxes scattered at my feet. “Not really, no. Just stocking up because I have nothing else to do.”
“Great,” she chirps, catching on to my sarcasm with a chuckle. She then proceeds to grab my wrist and tug me toward the front desk. “I just need you for a sec.”
Slight panic flares through my veins, heating my body in a way I resent.
I do my best not to show how I’m being affected by Diego’s sudden presence, only allowing a serene smile to touch my lips.
Inwardly, though, I feel like my thundering heartbeat is pulsing against my temple, and there’s an uncanny feeling floating around my stomach.
“Why?” I ask Gaby, with an outward calm I’m not feeling.
She peers at me from over her shoulder, finally releasing my hand. “So, remember yesterday when I honked at you on Main Street?”
“Yes. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”
I smile at the memory, at how I jumped initially before waving enthusiastically when her car passed by me on my way to joining my mom at the nail salon.
“Well, I had just picked up someone from the airport.”
“Oh, yeah?” I play indifferent, when I’m anything but. Every step I take gets me closer to the guy I had the biggest crush on as a teenager. Every step brings back memories of his breathtaking smile, his contagious laugh, his infectious energy. “Who?”
Deep brown eyes rest on me as I join the small group huddled by the entrance.
Diego Ramirez used to be a cute teenager with a vibrant personality, but as he scans me from head to toe without breaking his indecipherable expression, I can’t help but think he’s become ruggedly handsome.
The kind of masculine beauty that makes your heart ache.
The kind of savage beauty that warns you to stay away lest you get hurt.
Hands still buried in the pockets of his jeans, he’s the portrait of insouciance.
His dark hair curls around his ears, and I notice the little silver hoop in his left lobe.
Light, neatly trimmed scruff dusts over his perfect jawline, a subtle yet noticeable splash of rose touching his naturally tanned cheekbones.
His eyes are his most intimidating features.
They’re dark, with thick eyelashes – which I used to be thoroughly jealous of – framing them, and they’re studying me with interest.
He’s astonishingly tall. Broad. Imposing.
He exudes a crushing power, innately so, and I’m sure he’s not even aware of what he does to me.
I’m impressed at the way I let my smile pleasantly grow, just like I’d greet a customer, in lieu of blushing or making a fool of myself.
I shoved my silly crush deep inside when he graduated and left town.
Let go of all fantasies of being his one day when he announced to his family he wasn’t coming back.
But as we stare at each other as though the entire world has crumbled to dust, leaving just the two of us, I can’t help but wonder if that crush was only waiting to burst back to life the moment I laid my eyes on him again.
“Remember my brother?” Gaby asks, beaming.
I want to glare in her direction, as if to say: how could I not, G?, because if there was one person who loved to tease me about the very, very obvious crush I had on her brother, it was her.
So, why didn’t she warn me?
Because you were supposed to move on, my stupid, battered heart screams.
The real question is: does he remember me?
I try to shake off the surprise, hoping I’ve been able to conceal my utter shock. I’m just destabilized. I nod, and as I attempt a wave, I drop the gloves I had been holding, but no one seems to notice. And I’m too stunned to pick them up. “Diego, right?”
He nods. That’s it, he simply nods. Doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move. There’s a tightness in his jaw as he darts his gaze around the place again, like he’s assessing the room, like he’s analyzing every corner, every item.