Beyond Reason (18 page)

I had just finished braiding my hair and was dressed for a day on the mountain when I heard the hum of a coffee grinder down the hall. I hoped whoever was out there would be making enough for more than one. Austin was going to be here any second, and I’d love to get some caffeine streaming though me before I left the house. Reaching for my knit cap, I pulled it on my head before trundling down the hall to a wall of closed bedroom doors. We were all up really late after the hot tub incident and I’d be sleeping too, if I didn’t already have plans. The smell of coffee brewing led me into the kitchen, where Ayden was standing. He had his back turned toward me as he faced the kitchen window.

Damn him!

He was dressed in a loose pair of green, plaid pajama bottoms that hung low around his waist, and he had no shirt on. My eyes slid along the length of his long, lean back, stumbling across every muscle, every curve of his body. He turned on the water and rinsed his hands while I stood staring. I wanted to quietly sneak back to where I came from—the safety of my bedroom—but my feet wouldn’t cooperate. My breath caught as he turned around, his eyes running along the length of me. He didn’t smile. Instead, his gaze lingered on my mouth, creating a lightning bolt of confusion in my chest.

That was the problem with Ayden lately; everything around him caused me to feel sensations that were far too powerful to be real. And they were all extremes.

“Coffee?” I barked, attempting to break my gaze from his chest.

A faint smile traced his lips as he reached for an empty mug and poured me a cup of the steaming brew.

“Rough night?” he asked, as he handed me the mug of liquid.

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“You seem a little skittish…so when’s your lover boy gonna be here.” He took a sip of his coffee, as a smirk landed on his face. It was like he was taunting me, pushing my buttons to get a rise out of me, and I had no idea why.

“He’s not my lover boy and there’s a lot more to him, to his story, than I care to tell you about.”

“Why’s that? Afraid I won’t approve?” His brows quirked up slightly.

“Since when have I ever wanted or cared about getting your approval?” The liquid stung my lips as I took a sip, but I didn’t let the pain show.

Ayden shrugged and leaned against the counter, allowing his torso to stretch…which inadvertently lowered his pajamas…which
made
my eyes dip as I followed along his abdomen to where the elastic met the fabric. It was totally not my fault.

“You. Are. Trouble,” I mumbled, as I heard his laughter from across the kitchen.

There was a knock at the door, and I spun around excited to see Austin and start my day in the snow.

“Have fun with Austin,” Ayden called.

“Same to you about what’s her face.”

I opened the door and my breath caught at the sight of Austin.

His snowboard pants and coat covered up most of his body, but there was something in his eyes that startled me, an intensity I didn’t recognize from the night before. His wavy hair hung loosely under his cap, flipping up on the edges.

“You look beautiful,” he said, kissing my cheek.

A pulse of joy settled over me as I felt his gaze on me, and I quickly closed the door behind me, ready for my day with Austin, a day I’d been waiting years for.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He handed me a lily and grinned. “Sorry for being an ass last night. I did tell the florist to use lilies, and I don’t know why I lied about it. It wasn’t her idea. It was mine.” His board was propped on his shoulder. “I guess I just didn’t know which side I wanted to show you.”

“How many do you have?” I laughed, as I followed him back down the steps toward the lifts.

“Enough.” He held out his free hand and I took it in mine, glove to glove.

“Well, I think I like this one you settled on,” I confessed as we walked along the snowy path. “Do you suggest I go snowboarding or skiing?”

“Have you ever tried snowboarding?” he asked.

“Yes, but it is more of a sitting-down endeavor where I turn my snowboard into a sled to make it down the mountain.”

His laughter churned the familiar longing I’d held onto for so many years, and I glanced at him, at his smile.

“Have you ever had lessons?” he asked.

“No. I’m self-taught, which is why I’m a master at it.”

“How about I teach you today?” Austin’s eyes flicked to mine as we stood in front of the rentals. “I bet it’ll only take a few key pointers, and you’ll be sailing upright down the mountain.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said, nodding. “But I’m game.”

I started toward the building, but Austin slammed his board into the snow and anchored me next to his equipment. “I’ve got this. Just keep an eye on my board.”

“Thanks.”

I watched Austin trudge through the snow and into the rental building as I let my mind wander. Would I be able to make it down the mountain in one piece? I dug my phone out of my jacket and quickly texted Gabby.

He’s teaching me how to snowboard.

It didn’t take long to receive a reply that made me laugh.

Are you nuts? People our age don’t just decide to show off their snowboarding skills on a date.

I smiled as I typed my reply.

Since when did we hit the age of eighty? I’ll be fine! I’ve wanted to get the hang of this for a while. And I am a snowboarder! I even have my own board at home. xx

She replied back.

I forgot to ask if you were doing dinner with him tonight?

I bristled a little at the question. Not because of the question but because of my answer.

No. He’s got a meeting.

I got another quick response.

Sweet. You’re ours tonight then!

Followed by another one.

I’m taking my girlfriend back from you.

Go have fun with Austin and quit texting…Jason

That was the Jason I knew and the one I loved. Whatever was going on between them or with him couldn’t be anything bad. There was no way. But the way he snapped last night at Gabby was so unusual. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and fought down the tinge of worry that threatened to destroy my perfect image of those two.

“Got you a hot chocolate,” Austin’s voice warmed me up immediately, and I quickly forgot what I was worrying about.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup from him. “I protected your board. No one even dared look in my direction.”

I reached for the boots he was holding, and he motioned for the bench a few feet away. “I can put your snow boots in the locker.”

“Thanks.” I untied one pair of boots and swapped them out for the other. Austin jogged back toward the building to lock up my snow boots, while I tightened everything up and readied myself for a day full of bruises and more bruises.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and it seemed like the perfect day to hit the slopes, especially with the fresh coat of snow the mountain got last night.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes filled with anticipation and something else I didn’t want to get my hopes up for.

Austin grabbed both our boards and took off toward the ski lift.

“You don’t have to do that,” I called.

“You need to save your energy for everything I’ve got in mind for you.”

My mouth fell open as we strapped ourselves onto the boards.

“That came out wrong,” he laughed.

“That’s too bad,” I teased, looking up quickly. He was less than a foot away from me, but it felt far closer as our eyes locked.

“Is it?” His expression darkened, and I immediately realized the connection we once shared was accessible. It still existed if I let it.

“So my job today is to make sure you get down the mountain—”

“Alive?” I interrupted.

“Well, for starters. Alive would be good, but I was thinking that if by the end of the day, the lily is still intact then my job’s complete.”

“How about this? If the lily stays intact, I owe you dinner. If it falls apart because of faulty teaching techniques, you owe me dinner?” I challenged.

“Dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“Sounds like there’s no real loser in this deal,” he replied, a grin surfacing on his lips, as we took a moment to adjust everything and get situated before we loaded onto the ski lift.

He took the lily from my gloved hand and unzipped my ski jacket.

“You’ll crush it,” I protested, as he gently placed the stem along my chest, the bloom poking out.

He zipped up my jacket, allowing the blossom to peek out.

“Nah, it’ll be fine as long as you don’t fall flat on your face.”

“No promises,” I muttered, following him toward the lift.

The ski lift operator motioned for us to take a seat on the next lift so we quickly walked over, dragging our boards with one foot attached, and waited for the bench to bump the back of our legs, signaling us to take a seat. The lift swayed gently as we took off toward the top of the mountain, leaving the village behind.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, looking at the snow-tipped trees as our lift sailed us up the mountain.

“It is.”

I felt his gaze on me as I continued to look below, and I felt the same shyness from last night return.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his gloved finger touching my cheek to get my attention.

“Totally. It’s just so peaceful here and that’s exactly what I need right now.” I turned to look at Austin and noticed his blue eyes taking me in. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me.”

“About what in particular?”

“My parents. My family.” I bit my lip and looked over his shoulder as the bench wobbled slightly. “They’ve disappointed me so often in life that I’ve come to expect it. But hurting people outside of our own family is just so wrong.”

“Politics is a nasty business.”

I laughed, “Is it really supposed to be a business though? What happened to that whole public servant thing?”

“Well, that went by the wayside a long time ago.” He placed his hand on my knee as our lift continued to usher us up the mountain, and I felt the importance of our history finally present itself. I took a sip of the hot chocolate and welcomed the warm drink. “Don’t blame yourself for their behavior.”

“It makes me question everything about my father. If he’s willing to play that dirty just to remain a mayor of some tiny town, what would he be willing to do for money, for his business?”

“Power makes people do odd things. But I wouldn’t read too much into it. Politics is very different than business. I doubt he’d stoop so low in business,” he laughed.

“I’d like to think better of my father.” I nodded, spotting the tiny house in front of us where we’d be let off. “But I don’t. I feel like I never understood their motives, and I never wanted to be like them. How horrible does that sound?”

“Remember that apartment building where he evicted everyone?” Austin asked.

Oh, my god! I had totally forgotten about that.

“I remember,” I sighed. “That was horrible. He evicted all of the low-income families because the laws changed, and he could charge more rent if he booted everyone out. He only gave them thirty days notice and most of them had nowhere to go. I remember him talking about how that year alone he’d make an additional quarter million with that move.”

“You’re nothing like them.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but how do you know? A lot has changed since we last saw one another.”

“Your friends are amazing. They care about you tremendously, and no one who has friends like that could be anything like your parents. Birds of a feather…”

My cheeks reddened as I looked away. “I hope you’re right. But enough of that, though. I’m here to be taught how to save a lily and make it down a mountain.”

The ski lift slowed marginally at the last incline, and I felt my board touch the hardened snow as I stood up ready to ride down the little bank with Austin right next to me. But just as I stood up and Austin glided down the slope, my glove stuck on the railing of the lift, not letting me detach. Before I fully understood what was happening, I was holding on for dear life with my body dangling from the lift as it continued to soar through the air and head back down the mountain. I heard Austin yelling at the operator to turn off the lift, but I kept sailing back down the mountain with my board attached to one foot and both hands holding tightly onto the railing. People hollered for me to jump, while others commanded me to hang on. I couldn’t gauge how high or low I was from the mountain so I just hung on until the lift finally sputtered into stillness.