Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Are we ready for the movie?” Tallulah asked after handing out much-appreciated cans of sparkling wine. Her blonde hair fell past her shoulders, and she looked like a model in what could have passed for a pair of men’s pajamas if not for the sexy cut of the top and shorts.
“Sure! Which one is it?” Misty asked after taking a sip of the crisp drink.
“Building a Sweet Romance. It’s about rival architects trying to win a gingerbread village contest,” Tallulah answered.
“He needs the prize money to start a foundation for underprivileged kids in the city, and she needs it to save her family’s firm that’s been the pillar of this small town for generations. ”
“God, she was gorgeous,” Tallulah sighed. “Still is.”
“Glad to see someone survived that show,” Vanessa said. “I heard one guy OD’ed and another shot himself after losing everything in the crypto crash.”
Marla frowned. “I remember when the guy who played Darren OD’ed because my sister was devastated, but are you sure about Elmer? The kid from that detective show grew up to be a crypto bro, maybe you’re thinking of him.”
Amidst the debate, Misty’s clenched heart seized up a little further.
The day she’d worn her Guardians t-shirt to the gym had been the turning point when Spencer had started to show himself as a person beyond her trainer.
Suddenly, she wasn’t sure a cute holiday romance was a good idea, but she couldn’t leave now.
She helped herself to a mini crème br?lée and settled back to try to get into the moment.
She saw these women every day, but it’d be fun to get to know them in a more relaxed setting.
It’d make it easier if one or more of them got on the team.
The movie started before Misty could dwell too much on the future, and the group leaned in to take in the action.
Misty vaguely recognized the male lead, having not been the biggest fan of his albums, but Quinn Delane still looked pretty similar to the way she had all those years ago.
The only changes were a few lines around her green eyes that hadn’t been there in her Guardians days, and her long blonde hair now barely brushed her shoulders.
Misty’s fingers fairly itched to send Spencer a text saying something like You’ll never guess what I’m watching.
But that wasn’t an option, not least because she’d left her phone in her room.
Even if they were still in touch, conversations like that had fallen by the wayside in the wake of their newly discovered sexual chemistry. She found herself missing both.
A loud “ooh” forced her attention back to the screen. “What happened?”
“An icing bag erupted in an awfully suggestive way.” Vanessa’s eyes danced with laughter.
Sure enough, icing had spurted over the edge of a bag and gotten on both characters. “I told you you were holding it wrong,” the vaguely familiar-looking guy was saying.
“And you’re a pro baker?” Quinn’s character parried back.
He stepped forward to try to adjust her grip, but only succeeded in shooting icing onto her apron. He smirked, and she retaliated by raising a frosting-covered hand and swiping it across his nose.
By the end of a scene that had devolved into a food fight, the two had both frosting and big smiles on their faces. “You missed a spot,” the hero said as Quinn scrubbed her face. “Let me.”
He took the cloth and gently dabbed at her face. Soon, the last of the icing was gone, but neither of them pulled away. Their smiles faded as they seemed to realize how close they were standing.
For Misty, the scene brought back a thousand memories. Facing each other in the pool. Getting whipped cream on her face at dinner with Spencer. Spencer drying her off after the shower. That spontaneous hug that had led to so much more.
Unable to take it anymore, she stood up. “I have to go. Sorry.”
Tallulah looked up from the movie. “What’s wrong?”
She thought fast. “My psych interview was in the middle of the cardio session, and I didn’t get to run enough today.”
Marla swallowed a bite of chocolate mousse. “And you want to now? You’ll miss the rest of the movie.”
“I already know how it ends. They fall in love, do something unprecedented in the competition, he starts the foundation, and her family’s firm works with the kids who are a part of it.
Like you said, tale as old as time.” This was a brand-new made-for-TV holiday movie, but she’d seen enough of them to know that such a scenario was likeliest to play out.
“Hey, no spoilers!” Vanessa protested.
Tallulah held up a veritable rainbow of packets. “But we were going to do sheet masks after! Please stay.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Her voice cracked as she fled, and Misty fought tears the whole way back to her room. Why had she thought watching a movie with even the slightest romantic plot was a good idea? Wearing herself out for the evening had always been the way to go.
After enough time had passed that she theoretically wouldn’t get a cramp from the food and booze, she changed into workout gear.
The hotel gym was pretty empty, but Eva was chucking medicine balls hard enough to shake the floor, and Tish was on a treadmill.
She had a K-drama on her tablet but popped an earbud out at the sight of Misty. “What are you doing here?”
“Playing Skee-Ball, what does it look like?” she said curtly, stepping on the elliptical. “But seriously, I need to pick up speed.”
She programmed in her usual settings, then pumped it up a notch. It would do nothing but help her on the track, and she lost herself in the motion of her arms and legs. Time and the rest of the room fell away around her.
“You coming up?” Tish was standing in front of her with her earbuds put away.
“Done...already?” The question came out in pants.
“I was ten minutes into that episode when you got here, and that should be enough to keep me sharp for tomorrow morning’s run.”
“Well, I need...more.”
Tish looked concerned. “Any more and you’ll wear yourself out too much to do well tomorrow.”
“No...I got this...See?” She started into a few notes of the song playing in the gym, but could only get through a few words at a time.
Spencer’s advice about singing as a gauge of how tough a workout was came back to her.
That was the day they’d started to get to know each other better, and the memory threatened to cancel out any endorphins the session might have generated.
She felt her shoulders slumping and her energy flagging.
“I see someone heading toward burnout if she keeps this up.”
“Burnout...what’s burnout? Isn’t this what you need...a machine...that wears boring crap...and just keeps going...and going...”
Tish leaned over to hit the “Emergency Stop” button. Misty startled as the machine slowed under her feet. “What was that for?” She furiously pedaled, but it didn’t start up again.
“Getting your attention. I think you should come with me.”
“Where?”
“Into town.”
That got Misty’s full attention. “You want to leave the hotel?”
Tish ignored that. “The cafe should still be open, and I hear good things about the hot chocolate.”
Misty’s breath was starting to come back. “What, so I can watch you sip a hot water with lemon while I indulge? No, thanks.”
Tish looked pained. “I’ll get one too if that’ll make you tell me what’s going on.”
Misty didn’t budge. “And you promise not to throw it up when we get back?”
Tish’s expression darkened at the reminder of how she used to try to get around her performance diet. “I shouldn’t have done that then — vomiting throws your electrolytes out of whack — and I’m not going to now. Satisfied?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
The intrigue of the moment spurred Misty into putting her hoodie and coat on and following Tish out of the hotel and onto the town’s main commercial strip.
The night and lack of physical activity made the temperature appear to have dropped twenty degrees, and yet she almost welcomed the slice of the wind through her coat.
Maybe it would numb her heart and make it stop aching so much.
After a few blocks, the cafe offered a welcome respite.
Between the fire crackling in the brick-lined fireplace, the cozy-looking furniture, and the wreaths already up, it looked like it had been air-dropped from Santa’s village into this little town.
The room was crowded, but somehow they managed to snag a table by the fireplace.
Tish negotiated a dairy-free version of the house specialty, but they ordered two hot chocolates as she’d promised.
The aroma made Misty’s mouth water, but she felt her heart sink as one plain drink and one with whipped cream on top arrived.
Hers reminded her of the dinner with Spencer, the one where she’d been all too aware of his mouth as he’d tried to guide her to get the whipped cream off her face.
She’d thought that night would’ve ended in a kiss, but it hadn’t done a thing to detract from the magic of their first.
“Actually, could I get mine with a marshmallow instead?” she asked, handing the server her cup back.
“Of course.” He walked away, and Tish studied her with a concerned expression.
“What?”
“I’ve never known you to order marshmallows when whipped cream’s on the menu.” Tish’s frown gave way to shock. “Oh, no. You couldn’t be pregnant, could you? Food aversion can be a symptom, you know.”
“God, no! My IUD works too well for that. I wanna try the homemade marshmallows.”
Tish looked less than convinced, and Misty sighed. “Okay, so that movie and now this whipped cream made me think of Spencer.”
“You miss him?” Tish looked sympathetic.
The question cut right to the core of how Misty was feeling.
She’d be happy never to see the guy from the phone that night again, but she missed the trainer who’d gone from resting drill sergeant face to joking and bantering with her through her sessions.
She missed the person who brightened up her days in the gym and out.
She missed the partner who’d taken incredible care of her pleasure and motivated her to give it back.
Yes, she missed the guy she’d come to know and...dare she say love? But was he still there?
Instead of going into any of that, Misty took a more philosophical approach. “You wouldn’t think we’d have time to miss anyone, but I have, and I felt bad that I crashed before I could call him some nights. That made him mad, and we broke things off.”
Misty sighed. “Go on and say you told me so.”
Tish didn’t look smug at all. “I’m not going to say anything except that that sucks.”
Before anyone could say anything, the server returned with a new drink.
Misty took a sip of her hot chocolate, savoring the richness of this drink she could practically chew and appreciating the texture of the homemade marshmallow bobbing against her lips.
“Then again, was there anything to break off? Maybe this was only meant to be a fling while I was getting ready to go.”
She wished she could believe that. As time had passed, the training sessions had evolved from yet another obligation to the highlights of her days.
Later, the more time she’d spent with Spencer outside the gym, the more time she’d wanted with him.
It had stung something awful to be shut out as he had, and she couldn’t figure out how to work her way back in or if it was worth trying.
“He seemed okay with me being gone at first but got so funny. Accusing me of ghosting, cheating with the delivery guy...and turning into such a dick. What the fuck?”
“Guys can be such babies when a woman outperforms them athletically.” Tish’s face darkened, and Misty knew she was thinking of those assholes she’d been with in college.
“I didn’t think Spencer was like that,” Misty protested. “All through training, he seemed to want this for me about as much as I wanted it for myself, acted so happy for me when I got it...”
With every word, she was reminded of all his good qualities and the sweetness of their early days outside the gym.
Maybe the reason this bad memory stood out so much was because it was the only one of its kind.
All her other memories of their time together were good ones that it hurt to have lost to her forever.
She closed her eyes to hold back yet another round of tears, but a few slid out anyway. “So what happened?”
Tish sipped her own drink, pausing as if to savor it. “Did I tell you why I wanted you to try out for the combine with me?”
It was so far out of left field that it had the effect of completely distracting Misty from her misery. “What?”
Tish repeated the question, and Misty thought back to the conversation that had set all this in motion. “Because I’m fast and strong enough for this, and you saw my lower body strength on the kickball field.”
“No, that was why I thought you’d qualify.
I wanted you to come because it’s not just your athletic abilities that lead your teams to victory.
You’re unstoppable—you fall, but you get back up, and don’t let it get you down.
You keep your teammates laughing and motivated, and that’s the kind of person anyone would want on their team.
Hell, at the rate you’re going, it wouldn’t surprise me if you made it and I didn’t. ”
“Don’t say that!” Every time Misty thought about what lay ahead, whether going to the Games or watching them on TV, it was with Tish by her side. Even if it was a question of one without the other, she would’ve put money on Tish being the one going to the Games.
“Why? It could very well happen. The point is, Eva’s probably the strongest of us, but she isn’t the most fun to work with.
You’re both a great athlete and an amazing human being.
And if Spencer can’t see that for whatever reason, he’s been hit in the head too many times in his kickboxing days.
I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with you. ”
The words warmed Misty more than the drink could. No matter what happened with Spencer or with the World Winter Games team, she’d have her best friend on the track and off.