CHAPTER SEVEN ALARA
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALARA
“Don’t cry.”
Diego’s shoulders tense at the sound of my teasing remark. Since his attention is settled on the snow-covered mountains lined up on the horizon, I take the opportunity to stare at him.
He’s taken his beanie off, leaving his curls messy and unruly.
Hands in the pockets of his snow pants, he looks incredibly bored, but I know he’s turning away from me so that I don’t see his crestfallen brown eyes.
The power his body exudes will always steal my breath away.
He’s tall, strong, and I’m definitely not the only person to notice his beauty – the defined jawline and the scruff of dark hair dusting along it, the effortless charm, the magnetic aura, the dangerous and sinful smiles that appear on rare occasions.
He’s quietly irresistible, and he knows it.
If you’d told me a decade ago that Diego would be a shameless flirt with me, I would have fainted, then come back to life with a pounding heart and nerves all over the place. I’m still a blushing mess every time he teases me, but I know it’s the way his friendly banter works with me.
I don’t think he’d ever allow anything romantic to happen between us for multiple reasons.
1) I’m his sister’s best friend, and one of his best friends is my brother (and if there’s one rule every girl should live by, it’s that your brother’s best friend is strictly off limits); 2) he’s only here temporarily, and Diego doesn’t seem like the type to do casual; and 3) even if he stares at me like he can’t look away, even if he calls me pretty and buys me lunch, he’s only trying to make it up to me.
His abundant and profuse apologies constantly make me smile, because he’s ridiculous.
On Wednesday, he was waiting for me in front of Rock Snow – seventeen minutes before opening – with a dirty chai latte he called hot milk in hand.
He had written “Do you forgive me?” with an upset emoji on the side of the cup.
With that, he gave me an almond croissant, which happens to be one of my favorite pastries.
For the rest of the day, he worked at the register and asked me questions whenever something was troubling him.
On Thursday morning, he showed up to my cabin with a cappuccino.
When he told me to open the lid, I shook my head as I read what was written on top with cocoa powder: “Sorry, Alara.” I’d asked him if he planned on winning me over with hot drinks and food, and he’d said yes.
As I finished getting ready, he chose a book from my shelf and read it while lounging on the couch – the other end from where Tabby was sleeping.
I hate to admit that seeing him make himself comfortable in my house did something to my heart.
This morning he showed up to my cabin early too. This time, thirty minutes before we had to leave for our last skiing lesson of the week. He brought me breakfast, and we ate it together.
He still doesn’t like Tabby, but he’ll get there.
Either way, I’m happy about the shift in our . . . friendship. Can we call it that? He’s opened up, though not fully, and spends all his breaks with me. He’s still quiet and reserved in a way, but at least he’s less angry and upset than he was during his first few days back.
“I’m not going to cry,” he mutters, still staring ahead.
“But is that a tear streaming down your—”
He gently bats the hand I was directing at his face. “Are you trying to start a fight with me?”
“Just trying to make you smile,” I say, a grin tugging at my lips. “Is it working?”
“Nope.”
Liar. His dimple is about to show.
You must be asking yourself why Diego looks so devastated as he stares off at the mountains. You’d think he would already be leaving Blue Ridge Springs, but, in reality, he had to say goodbye to Lou about ten minutes ago.
Diego won’t admit it, but he somehow grew attached to the kid.
The look of genuine pride as he watched Lou run down a green trail with the rest of the group is one I won’t ever forget.
He waited for us at the bottom of the run, high-fiving each student, and when Lou stopped in front of him, his grin widened even further, and I almost fell in a freaking ditch.
As the lesson ended and each of our students left, Lou lingered by my side, telling me all about her plans for the weekend before she and her family headed back to California.
Then, she looked up at me with those big doe eyes and hugged my legs tight enough to cut off my circulation.
After that, she jumped into Diego’s arms, and, fuck, if the sight of this tall man hugging such a tiny human being didn’t make my heart burst at the seams. He held her tightly with his eyes closed before letting her down and setting her on her feet.
Lou thanked him for being the best ski instructor everrrrr and ran toward her parents. That was the exact moment Diego walked away to stare at the mountains, mumbling something about simply being an assistant.
I nudge his elbow, staring up at the way the sunlight streams down on him. He finally decides to look at me, and my breath catches. In the light, his irises are the color of whiskey – I find myself drowning in them the more I stare and stare and stare.
I blink, trying to focus. “There will be other students like her,” I murmur. “That’s what’s so amazing about this job. We meet fun kids, some more stubborn than others, some we grow easily attached to. We meet teens and adults too, who are all amazing and cool to work with.”
Diego’s head drops forward, causing some rogue strands of hair to topple over his brows. He nods, staying loyal to his quiet self, and brushes past me.
“We should probably head back into town if we don’t want to be late for our shift,” is all he says.
I fall into step beside him after he gathers my skis – the same way he’s done all week long – and we walk toward my car in silence, listening to our synchronized steps, with the snow crunching beneath our boots.
“You’re a good assistant.” I’m not saying that just to make him feel better, but because it’s true.
He’s helped me in more ways than he thinks.
As much as I love the job, groups and loud noises can quickly overwhelm me, so the fact he was here to teach kids one-on-one and keep them focused while I tried to give instructions managed to lift a certain weight off my shoulders.
A muscle in his jaw twitches, and he gazes down at me. “And you’re a good instructor.”
“Did you just compliment me?”
He groans then. “With the way you’re so massively annoying today? I should be insulting you.”
I laugh, fumbling with my key fob and counting the number of times I saw his dimples today. Six times. There’s something about making this guarded man smile that gives me a rush of pride. It gives me a thrill, it’s exhilarating – like a challenge I need to win.
Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I hope that Lou and all the students he’ll meet over the next couple of weeks will change his mind about not coming back to Blue Ridge.
He’s told both Gaby and Jordan, repeatedly, that he’s intent on leaving town as soon as possible, but I’m hoping that he’ll have a change of heart.
I don’t think I’ll ever be the reason he reconsiders his choice, but maybe the people and the town will.
Either way, I don’t want him to leave because, as stupid as I sound, I’ve grown fond of this brooding guy.
Pleaaaaase,” I say for the millionth time. I swear, I’m usually not this desperate and pathetic.
“
Diego spins on his stool, clearly enjoying my state of hopelessness.
He crosses his arms over his chest, drawing my attention to his biceps, and smirks before tossing the pencil he was holding down on the front desk.
Rock Snow is currently empty – we’re closing in ten minutes – and from the way he’s checking the time every fifteen seconds, I know he’s eager to leave.
I don’t blame him; it’s Friday, after all, but I’m not letting him go until he gives in and says yes.
“I don’t know,” he drawls. “The sound of you begging is music to my ears.”
Standing on the other side of the counter, I lean my palms on the wooden top and narrow my eyes. “I’d love to hear you beg too.”
He arches a brow. “Give me a reason to. I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”
“Undoubtedly,” I say dryly. My shoulders drop with the sigh I let out.
I’m going to ask him one last time, because I’ve been running after him for three days, and something tells me he’s been having too much fun toying with me.
I raise my pointer finger. “One video. I promise I won’t ask again after this one. ”
Diego can be as subdued as he wants, he can be quiet and can keep his walls up, but his eyes constantly betray him. By the twinkle of amusement shining around his pupils, I think he’s about to agree to helping me.
I started managing the store’s social media during my first year of college.
Despite enjoying the job, because it’s easy and fun, it was hard to stay consistent.
I couldn’t find a balance between my classes and this side activity, but now that I can fully focus on the job, my goal is to grow our numbers and gain more visibility.
There’s no one better than Diego to help me check the boxes because not only is he a popular athlete who’s managed to attract hundreds of new customers to the store, he’s also a handsome man who will catch our target audience’s attention.
With a shake of his head, he lets a smile spread across his face. “Fine. I’ve got to say, though, that it’s been very fun to make you wait.”
The urge to squeal with delight is strong, but I stay composed. “Yeah, I’m sure you were having the time of your life.”
His soft chuckle follows after me like a melody as I fetch everything I need for the video.
In the meantime, Diego is busy organizing the front desk, ready to log out of the system.
For a Friday afternoon, it was quite slow, so we managed to start cleaning up early, which means we should be out of here quickly.
As promised, Diego has made some major effort.
He asks for help when he needs it, even though it’s evident he’d rather figure everything out on his own rather than bother one of his colleagues.
He takes pictures with fans and signs autographs – albeit reluctantly, but he still does it, even if it’s with a tight faux smile.
How do I know it’s fake? Because his dimples don’t pop.
He also enjoys working with my dad, and it makes me happy to know he trusts someone here.
They always seem to cackle at ridiculous jokes, and they often talk passionately about matters that don’t concern me.
Still, I think he remains frustrated with his punishment. There is nothing I can do to lessen his pain, to soothe his anger, except stay patient. He has a lot of mental recovery to work on in addition to his physical recovery, and the only thing I can do to help is show him that he’s safe here.
Gaby’s demand still lingers in the back of my mind. I want to help Diego unwind and have fun. I want to make the clouds go away and find the electric guy I once couldn’t stop thinking about. I want to drag him out of the shadows and make him bask in the light he deserves.
It all starts now.
The basket I carry back to the front of the store is full of pairs of goggles.
Diego glances from my hands to my eyes and then back down to the items I lay in front of him. “Alright, boss. What do you want me to do?”