Chapter 28
HANNAH
Breathing in crisp, winter air, the sun barely sits on the horizon this early in the morning.
Light snowflakes cascade down to tickle my nose, dusting my pink puffer jacket.
My breath can be seen in plumes ahead of me as I huff up the long hill, wondering if Noah actually jumped his own hurdle and wants to overcome this tricky battle.
To my amazement, he stands leaning against his snowboard, smirking in a way that makes me want to stare just a little bit longer, and I hate being aware of it. “You’re late.”
I stop. “I said seven.”
“Did you?” He smiles big, exposing a perfect set of white teeth. “Hmm, I couldn’t remember, so I came at six.” Goggles hang from his neck, his tawny skin peeking through the white sweater beneath his black winter jacket, highlighting how perfect his complexion really is.
Not a single blemish in sight.
“Six?” What the hell was he doing all this time?
“Yeah.” He shrugs, coming closer.
“I said seven.”
“Like I said.” He moves with grace, just like how he snowboards… Why am I focusing on the way he walks? Get it together, Hannah!
“What’s next, Red?” He stands inches from me now, and I have to crane my neck at a weird angle to see all of him. Gosh, he’s so tall.
He’s so eager to start, I wonder where his defiant attitude from earlier went. At least he’s trying…for now.
I coax him to stand next to me at the start of the course, looking over the cluster of log cabins below, where the mountain forms, finding peace in a quiet, chilly morning. “You feel that?”
I can sense his eyes lingering on my face. “No?”
“That’s what peace feels like when it's you and your board becoming one.”
“I haven’t even left the start line,” he chuckles, and I blush, loving the sound.
“You will. I want you to just glide down the pipe and remember why you love the sport in the first place.”
Stepping back to give him space, he looks over his shoulder at me, confused. “That’s it?”
“For now.”
A playful wink comes my way before he hides behind his tinted goggles, coasting down fresh, even snow.
Every time he comes back, I force him to repeat, hoping it drills into his head that what he loves isn’t lost forever.
To reacquaint himself and not hold the burden of his past mistakes, even if it’s coasting down the halfpipe, familiarizing himself with how it feels to glide, hopefully cracking the surface of his mental block.
He returns for the sixth time, not hesitating to start again when I say, “Again.”
“Can I at least try the Alley-Oop?” He sounds hopeful, breathing heavy through his nose, lips parted, slightly chapped.
“Not yet.” He mumbles under his breath and walks back to the starting line…except Noah does the exact opposite I ask of him.
I’m running, skidding to a stop, watching from above as he gains speed.
I brace myself and analyze his form, trying to catch a mistake before the trick is complete.
But when he turns his shoulders uphill, fully immersed in the twist, I can’t catch the moment that causes the mishap, resulting in his tumble straight down, snow spraying everywhere from the impact.
The twisties are definitely a mental obstacle, an issue I’ve never experienced personally, and wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy, not even egotistical Noah Hart.
I’m grabbing my board, strapping myself in quickly so I can reach him. He’s groaning by the time I get to him, and I pray he didn’t break a bone.
“Can we do something else?” is his first response as I huff a sigh of relief. Well, glad to know he’s coherent enough to continue.
“No, you moron. I told you not to do a trick yet.” I swear I’m talking out of my ass with him.
“You’re a real Debbie Downer, huh?”
“Just being optimistic.” And honest…cause, so far, he’s a hot mess.
“I’m doing something else.”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
“I’m trying to help you!”
He ignores my reply and moves faster than I can get the next words out of my mouth, running up.
“Noah!” I’m unfastening the stupid bindings, almost tripping over myself, and getting out of his way.
Looking up, he’s already racing down the halfpipe, gaining speed faster than before, using it to his advantage, and glides up on the shoulder, the tail of his snowboard pointing straight in the air.
He begins to spin, grabbing the toe end of his board when his spin is high, then lands over the halfpipe.
Rushing forward, I find him lying flat on his back, swearing like a truck driver.
“Are you all right?” I hover over him, his arms spread in the snow.
“No, Red, I’m not.”
Noah pushes himself to a sitting position and aggressively removes the binds from his feet.
“What move were you trying to do?”
He rips off his goggles. “Does it matter? As you said, I can’t do it.”
“I never said that…specifically.”
“Didn’t have to be specific.” Noah chucks his snowboard, yelling in frustration. “Fuck this.”
“Maybe if you listened to me—”
“I don’t need your advice, Red. I just need—”
“A smack upside the head? Your problem, Noah, is that you do whatever you want, when you want, and you don’t care who it affects!”
When he doesn’t say anything, I continue, letting my frustrations and pent-up anger roll off my tongue.
“Not for nothing, you would think that saving a family resort and its workers would make you feel somewhat good about yourself, but it only throws a goddamn wrench in your overinflated ego because you can’t freely make out with every female guest that walks by.
And for the last time, my name is not Red, it’s H-A-N-N-A-H! HANNAH!”
I take a deep breath, the weight lifting from my shoulders finally easing some of the pressure off my chest. Damn, it feels good to tell him off.
Crossing my arms, I wait for his typical snarky comment. His eyes wander over my body, landing on my face, while I breathe heavily through my mouth, until our eyes connect, his pupils dilate slightly.
Why is he giving me that look? Heat rushes to my cheeks.
“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Oh, no, we’re not having this conversation.” I start walking before he can get another word in, a rush of heat spreading through my body. I can’t believe he just asked me that!?
He catches my arm before I can escape. “The only way to help me is to help you.”
“Excuse me? Are you clinically insane?!”
“Maybe, never been tested, so…” His big hand relaxes a bit, loosening his hold on my arm.
I ease away from his grasp, creating space so I can fucking breathe. “I don’t think you need to be tested, because what you just said was proof enough for both of us.”
“Red, I’m not asking the secret to life; I’m suggesting that if I help you, then in return, it helps me. I can’t work with someone with that much anxiety rolling off their body. I nearly drowned when we first met.”
Oh…so now it's my fault? “Are you going to add me to your very long list of conquests if I give you the chance?” Definitely not entertaining the idea, but…
He raises a dark eyebrow. “Think of it as…enemies with benefits.”
“Oh, like that’s any better.”
“No strings attached, just to help meet your physical needs, which in return relaxes your uptight ass, then trickles over to my issue. My temporary coach is in bliss, and I’m less worried about being perfect.”
I blink, trying to comprehend his reasoning. “So, I’m too uptight, and that’s why you're failing?”
Noah shakes his head, letting me go. “No, Red. But your anxiety makes me anxious. Just think about it.”
He picks up his snowboard and descends the hill, while I stand alone, hearing families and their kids exit their cabins below.
There is no way in hell I’ll let Noah Hart touch me, especially intimately.
No.