Pride

Chapter 5

“Beth, did you really think I’d be coming to ski school with you?” Kane asked, laughing.

She blushed and shook her head. “That was silly. I guess I thought maybe you’d teach me-”

He snapped her ski boot shut and helped her latch it to the ski, then grabbed his board and began guiding her toward the bunny slope.

Kane laughed again. “Me? Only if you want to land in the hospital. Trust me, you don’t want to pick up any of my bad habits.”

The hospital?

Beth’s heart plummeted as she pictured herself in a broken heap at the bottom of a snow-covered cliff.

“It’s going to be fine,” Kane assured her, catching her look of terror. “I just want you to learn from the best. This way, I can get some good boarding in-and then we’ll have all afternoon to spend together.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She leaned over to try to give him a quick kiss through his ski mask, and practically toppled over into the snow. “And Kane?” she asked as he steadied her. “I’m sorry again about last night.”

“No apology necessary. And I’m glad I got the chance to go to bed early, for once. You were right-we have a big day ahead of us!” he said heartily, and with that, he grinned and glided away, waving in farewell as he careened down the slope.

Beth took a deep breath and inched her way toward the sign marked WHITE STONE SKI SCHOOL: BUNNY BEGINNERS. If she was having this much trouble on flat land, she wasn’t too eager to find out how she would fare on the slopes. But she supposed she didn’t really have another option.

Beth took a place next to Miranda, the only person in the lesson she recognized. They exchanged a quick glance-the disappointed Oh, it’s you vibe was palpable.

But there was little time for disappointment or hostility, not when the instructor, a chipper young woman in a fluorescent orange ski suit and matching skis, had already started rattling off instructions at lightning speed.

Knees locked, knees bent. Shift your weight. But not too much. Hold your balance. Ski poles down. Arms out-

It was far more than Beth could take in, and by the time the instructor began offering tips for slowing down, Beth was half ready to throw her ski poles off the mountain and spend the rest of the day reading in the lodge. Somehow, the instructor’s suggestions-“Line up your skis like french fries to go fast”; “Angle your skis like a slice of pizza to go slow”-didn’t inspire her with much confidence that, when plummeting down the hill toward a giant tree, she’d be able to avoid it.

“Okay, bunnies, time for our first run!” the instructor cheered. “Just push off-and… go!”

As the students around her launched themselves into motion, Beth looked dubiously over the lip of the so-called bunny slope. It suddenly looked like a ninety-degree angle.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Miranda muttered under her breath. She looked about as confident in her abilities as Beth felt.

After a moment, they were the only two students left at the top of the hill. Miranda gave Beth a half smile.

“It’s going to be pretty embarrassing if we give up now, isn’t it?” she asked sheepishly.

“Embarrassment never killed anyone,” Beth pointed out, “whereas skiing…” It was a long way down.

“On the count of three?” Miranda suggested.

Beth nodded and, hesitantly, quietly, they counted off together.

One.

Two.

Threeeeeeee…

I’m not going to die, Beth repeated to herself aloud as she hurtled uncontrollably down the hill. The wind whipped past her face, the bumpy ground skidding beneath her feet.

French fries. Pizza. French fries-no, pizza, she mumbled to herself, trying to force her skis into the proper angle, whatever that was. But it was no use-her skis were going wherever they wanted to go. She was just along for the ride.

It seemed to take forever-then, suddenly, miraculously, she was zooming toward the bottom of the slope, toward a crowd of waiting skiers, unable to stop or turn, snow flying from her wake, until finally, in desperation, she spread her skis into the widest angle she could and slowed to a stop, tumbling over into a blessedly soft mound of snow.

Alive. And safe. And totally ready to do it all over again.

“What a rush!” Miranda cried from a few feet away. She too was flat on her back in the snow, one ski lying by her side, but her face was flushed with happiness.

“A few more runs and we’ll be ready for the Olympics,” Beth boasted, in a still shaky voice.

Miranda, having picked herself up, offered Beth a hand. “A few thousand more runs, maybe,” Miranda corrected her. “I don’t know about you, but I thought I was going to die pretty much the whole way down.”

“I’ve never been so happy to stop moving in my life,” Beth admitted.

“So… you ready to go again?”

“Again?” Beth brushed some snow off her face and planted her ski poles defiantly into the snow as if staking a flag into the ground of a newly discovered land. “What are we waiting for!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try a lesson first?” Adam asked again.

At least he’s talking to me, Harper thought. It was a small but crucial step in the right direction, given that their morning had consisted largely of Adam refusing to meet her gaze. When he’d had to ask her to pass the salt over the cafeteria breakfast table, he’d first turned bright red, stuttered a few incoherent syllables, and finally spit the words out only by looking fixedly down at his lap. Suffice it to say, they hadn’t spoken yet about the equipment malfunction of the night before. Fine with Harper. She was more than happy to put the episode far behind her. And judging from the look on his face after it had happened, when she’d tried comforting him (“Don’t worry, it happens to everyone”), he was eager to do the same.

The thing was: It didn’t happen to everyone. Or, at least, not everyone who was with Harper. No one had ever had any problems in that department when it came to her-so what was going on with Adam? Was there some part of him, deep down, that didn’t want to be with her?

Stop obsessing, she told herself. Once they’d gotten out of the lodge and onto the slopes, Adam had relaxed, grateful for the chance to focus on something other than their nonexistent sex life. Harper forced herself to do the same. Unfortunately, that meant focusing on skiing… and for Harper, that was proving to be almost as unpleasant a topic.

“Who needs lessons when I’ve got you?” Harper asked, trying to ignore her clenched stomach and rapid pulse. Their chairlift swung gently in the wind, and Harper grabbed the metal guardrail a little tighter, refusing to look down to the ground below. Way below. Instead, she focused on how good the two of them must look together in their ski gear. Harper’s shopping expedition had paid off, and she was sporting a svelte, dark green ski jacket with matching ski pants. She looked good.

In all her fantasizing about this trip, she’d almost forgotten about the whole skiing component-athletic endeavors were so not her thing. But really, how hard could it be? You just point your skis in the right direction and let gravity do the work. Any idiot could figure that out. She wasn’t about to be one of those wimpy bunny slopers that the real skiers just laughed at. No one laughed at Harper Grace. Besides, Harper planned to spend the entire day by Adams side-especially after last night. She didn’t want him to spend any time off by himself. Thinking.

The ride ended far too soon, and Adam pushed her off the lift just in time. They paused at the top of the slope. Harper tightened her grip on her ski poles and focused on the little kids zipping back and forth across the mountain-if they could do it, so could she.

“You ready?” Adam asked dubiously.

She nodded.

“You sure?”

She nodded again.

“Just remember what I taught you, okay? And I’ll be right behind you the whole way down.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll be fine…”

She pushed herself off down the hill and, suddenly, she was flying through the snow, her hair streaming out behind her, faster and faster. She shifted her weight to the left, to the right, to avoid crashing into someone, veered around an icy patch, and still, faster and faster-

I’m skiing, she marveled, and I’m awesome.

And that’s when she hit the bump.

And her skis flew up off the ground, taking her with them. She soared through the air, her arms and legs waving wildly, helplessly, and for a moment she felt weightless-and then the ground returned.

With a crash.

A clatter.

A thud.

Silence.

Kane was practically asleep on his feet. Riding down the same beginner trail again and again would have been enough to put anyone into a coma of boredom. And feigning enthusiasm every time Beth made it twenty feet without falling was wearing him out.

“You’re doing great,” he lied, when they’d landed at the bottom once again. “Think maybe it’s time for you to try a more difficult slope?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She bit her lip and looked up at the mountain peaks in the distance. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

“You’re better than you think you are,” he prodded her.

She shook her head. “Not that much better.”

He shrugged and began maneuvering his snowboard back toward the chairlift. “Whatever-we’ll just go again.”

She grabbed him and pulled him to a stop, slightly off the trail.

“Kane, if you want to go hit some harder slopes for a while, it’s okay.”

“I’m not going to just leave you here,” he protested, imagining himself shooting down a black diamond trail, chasing the wind. It killed him to be out here in such fresh powder, stuck gliding down the same bunny hill over and over again, at snail speed. “But why don’t you come along-you’re really getting good now.”

She laughed. “And what definition of good are you using? No, I’m staying here. But really, you go-have some fun. We’ll meet up later.”

She was lying, that much was clear. She wanted him with her, and was terrified to ski by herself. He should stay. That would be the good boyfriend move. It would have been Adam’s move. But she’s not with Adam, he reminded himself. And who knew what she really wanted, if she wasn’t going to admit it. Why not take her at face value, enjoy himself? It was fresh powder, after all, and a new board. You don’t waste that. Not if you’re Kane Geary.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look out here?” he told her. “Like a snow goddess.”

She pushed him playfully. “You don’t have to butter me up, Kane. I’m not going to be mad if you go-you came up here to board. You should do it.”

“That’s not all I came for,” he reminded her, pulling her scarf away from her face so he could warm her chilled lips with a kiss.

“Well then, you’d better take care of yourself up there and make sure you stay in one piece… so you can meet me later,” she told him, with an uncharacteristically mischievous note in her voice. This was working out better than he could have hoped.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he assured her.

“And remember-” she called after him as he slid away.

“I’ll be careful!” he promised.

But really, what was the fun in that?

Harper didn’t know what had been more humiliating. Lying on the ground, snow seeping through her clothes, as more and more curious skiers gathered to gawk? Being strapped to the back of a rescue mobile like a couch strapped to the hood of a car and then unceremoniously unloaded in front of half her school? Or maybe it was the fact that after thoroughly examining her, the doctor at the first aid station had concluded there was nothing wrong with her other than a few bruises and a twisted knee.

Not that she wasn’t grateful. Imagine if she’d broken her neck-or, almost as bad, her nose. But the injury was just minor enough to make her feel like an idiot for making such a scene-and just major enough to keep her off her feet for the rest of the weekend.

Adam had tended to her for a while. He was guilt stricken over his abject failure as a ski instructor, and she was only too happy to play his damsel in distress, letting him prop her leg up with pillows, bring her hot chocolate, and kiss her bruises until she had to smile. (And, if nothing else, at least all the commotion had taken his mind off their little “problem.”)

He’d been so sweet, in fact, that she’d felt guilty about spoiling his fun. She’d told him to go back out on the slopes-he’d refused, she’d insisted. And finally, he’d given in.

It was only when he’d gone, and she was left alone in the empty lodge, her hot chocolate turned cold, her knee throbbing, the cozy fire burned out, that she realized her stupidity. She was trapped in here, in pain, while Adam was out there alone, easy prey for all those desperate girls who would love nothing more than to steal him away from her.

Easy prey for Beth.

She could see it now.

“Oh, Adam, you look so handsome on your skis!” In that simpering voice. “I’m so sweet and helpless-won’t you help me get down the mountain?”

Harper would have been pleased to help her-right over the edge. But Adam, on the other hand, would be nothing but a gentleman, only too happy to lend his services. And once she’d sucked him back in with the needy routine, she’d never let him go.

Kane was nothing, no one, she’d claim. A horrible mistake. Adam was her one, true love.

It was nauseating, even as a hypothetical.

Adam would resist at first. He was nothing if not loyal.

But Beth would beg and Beth would plead-and then, Harper knew, Beth would cry. And she’d look so beautiful and so fragile standing out in the snow, throwing herself on Adam’s mercy, that eventually, he would just give in. After all, he would surely reason, Harper’s tough, she can handle it. Beth is the one who really needs me.

If only he knew.

It was crazy, she told herself. Totally unlikely-certainly no more likely than a chance meeting in the halls of the high school or the cramped streets of their tiny town. But still, she couldn’t stand the idea of Beth out there having Harper’s dream vacation.

Harper whipped out her cell phone, determined to get her mind off the whole horrible thing. But who to call? Even Miranda was out on the slopes, having fun. Harper was alone. There was only one person she could think of who might have time to talk, distract Harper from her living nightmare-and it wouldn’t have been her first choice. Or her fifth. But she was out of options, and sometimes you just had to play the hand you were dealt.

She hit talk.

“Hey, Kaia-yes, it’s Harper. Just thought I’d check in, give you the download on the trip so far… what? No, nothing too exciting-wait, I do have some hot gossip. You’ll never guess what our trusty chaperone’s been up to. Let’s just say he’s got his hands full. Or should I say, his lap…”

He didn’t notice her until he’d sat down beside her on the chairlift-and by then, it was too late.

This really wasn’t his day.

They recognized each other at the same time, just as the lift swept their feet off the ground. Now there was no turning back-they were trapped together until they reached the top.

“Hey,” Adam grunted.

Beth nodded and looked down. Most of her face was hidden by a thick blue scarf-only her eyes were visible, and he couldn’t decipher their expression. Once, he’d been able to read her thoughts, just from the look in her eyes. It felt like a long time ago.

They rode in silence for several long minutes, watching the skiers dart around beneath them. Adam swung his skis, gently rocking them back and forth.

“Could you not do that?” Beth asked. Adam looked over and noticed how tightly she was gripping the guide bar. For a moment, he considered swinging his legs wildly, just to see her face fill with fear. But he suppressed the impulse-and hated himself for it.

“Sorry,” he said awkwardly, and stopped. “So, uh, how’s the skiing?” And where’s your boyfriend? he added silently. Nice of Kane to send her off by herself. Typical. But no more than she deserved, he supposed. And she was a big girl. She could handle it.

“It’s fine,” she responded unconvincingly. “It’s great. Kane and I are having a great time.”

“It doesn’t look it,” Adam snapped.

“What?”

“If you two are having such a great time together, where is he?”

She looked away. “That’s really none of your business,” she said bluntly. “Did I ask you where Harper was?”

“She’s-”

“I don’t care,” Beth cut in. “That was my point.”

“Fine. Sorry I said anything at all,” he retorted.

“Me too.”

Beth hopped off the chairlift as soon as her skis could reach the ground. She couldn’t get away from Adam fast enough. She hated what being around him did to her. Half the time she was an emotional wreck, ready to throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her back, the other half she was this cold, sarcastic monster she barely recognized.

He deserved it, of course-what right had he to comment on her relationship, act so wise and superior, as if he were just waiting for her and Kane to fall apart? He didn’t know anything about them-or anything about her, not anymore.

She was so angry that she forgot to be afraid as she launched herself down the trail. So busy fuming about Adam that she failed to notice the icy patch until it was too late-her legs went skidding out from under her-one ski off to the right, the other off to the left, and just when it felt as if she would snap in half, her skis snapped off instead, and she landed, facefirst, in a pile of snow.

Ouch.

It took her a moment to catch her breath and make sure all her limbs were still attached and in working order. Yes on both counts. She sat up and brushed the snow out of her face, taking stock. One ski lay a few feet away, and there were her two ski poles, but the other ski…

Beth’s heart sank. It was nowhere in sight. Had it slid down the mountain without her? She wondered how much it would cost to replace a rental ski-and how in the world she’d make it down without it.

“Lose something?”

Adam skied to a stop just in front of her-and he was holding her missing ski.

“I saw it go flying,” he explained, “and figured… are you okay?”

She nodded and, with some hesitation, took his hand and let him help her up.

“I saw you go flying too,” he told her, “and I thought…”

“It looked pretty bad, I guess?” she asked with a wry smile.

“No, no,” he assured her as she snapped her boots back into the skis. “You were doing great until you fell. You’re a natural.”

He’d been watching her? Beth felt her face warm, and was glad her scarf would hide the blush. The scarf made her think of Kane-and that made her think it was time to go.

“Well, I guess I should get back on the horse,” she said, taking a tentative step forward on the skis, only to topple over once again-and this time, she pulled him down with her.

“I take it back,” Adam said, rolling over and spitting out a mouthful of snow. “You totally suck.”

He burst into laughter and, after a moment, Beth broke out in giggles.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, trying to get hold of herself. “Let me help you up.”

“No, don’t touch me,” he warned, but he said it with a warm smile on his face. “I don’t want to risk another human avalanche.”

He picked himself up and then, again, hoisted her to her feet.

“I guess I should have paid more attention in ski school,” Beth admitted ruefully.

Adam flicked a clump of snow off her shoulder, and Beth realized how long it had been since he’d touched her. But just a moment ago he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her upright as if it were nothing.

Which, she supposed, it was.

“I could-I could help you out a little,” he suddenly suggested, looking surprised to hear the words pop out of his mouth. He couldn’t have been as surprised as Beth.

If he’d asked her ten minutes earlier, she would have laughed in his face. Accept help from Adam? As if.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. “I guess we could do that,” she accepted shyly. “If you want.”

“Okay, then,” he said, in his can-do voice. She knew it well. But then, she knew everything about him, every inch of him, well. Or, at least, she had. “The first thing we need to do is work on your stopping skills. Did they tell you in your lesson about ‘making a pizza’?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Not you too! I still don’t understand what skiing has to do with fast food. It’s so ridiculous.”

He gave her a playful shove. “Now I know you’re not mocking the pizza-not the very bedrock of our skiing society!” He looked so stricken that she burst into laughter again.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she promised. “Bring on the pizza.”

He positioned her on the skis, and they practiced stopping and slowing down and, eventually, “French fries,” for when she wanted to speed up, and soon, Beth was no longer terrified by the out-of-control flight down the mountain-she was exhilarated.

Despite all that was unspoken between them, and all the horrible words that had been said and could never be forgotten, things could still be easy between the two of them. She felt she was rediscovering something, or someone, that she hadn’t even realized she’d missed. Not Adam-or not just Adam-but herself. The person she had been-before. She thought she’d lost that person forever. Maybe, just maybe, she’d been wrong.

By the time Adam returned, flushed and sunkissed from his day in the snow, Harper was seriously bored-and seriously cranky.

She’d gossiped with Kaia, made small talk with the steady stream of losers who’d returned to the lodge with bumps and bruises of their own, read through this month’s Vogue, twice-at one point she’d gotten so desperate for something to do that she’d actually called her mother. In short: It had been a painfully long afternoon-made even longer by the fact that Adam showed up twenty-three minutes later than he was supposed to. (And yes, she’d been counting.)

But she played the good girlfriend-she put on a happy face.

“How are you doing?” Adam asked, greeting her with a kiss and laying a gentle hand on her wounded ankle.

“Much better, now that you’re here,” she said truthfully. “So how was your afternoon?”

“Awesome!” he beamed-then looked down at her and quickly corrected himself. “I mean, it was okay. You didn’t miss much.”

He was so adorable when he tried-and failed-to be a smooth operator.

“It’s okay, Ad, I want you to have fun,” she assured him. It sounded like the right thing to say… even if it wasn’t quite true. “So you didn’t get too bored, skiing all by yourself? Or did you hook up with one of the guys?”

“No…” He stepped behind her, beginning to rub her shoulders. “Actually, I spent most of the day…”

His voice trailed off, and Harper tipped her head up to catch a glimpse of his face. What was he thinking?

“Spent most of the day doing what?” she prodded him.

“You know, skiing, just enjoying the outdoors,” he said quickly. Too quickly? “But I missed you-how’s your knee?”

“It’s a little better,” Harper said, easing herself up off the couch and balancing on her good leg. “I think if I can lean on you, I should be able to… make it back to your room.” She hadn’t intended for her voice to rise at the end of the sentence, as if it were a question-but then, she didn’t know what to expect. Not after last night.

“You can always lean on me, Gracie,” he teased, hurrying to her side and slinging an arm around her waist. “Let’s just take this one step at a time.”

They hobbled out of the lounge and back toward the rooms. Harper smiled. It was so nice to be cradled in Adam’s arms, letting him guide her and support her, that the pain in her knee was almost worth it. Almost.

And then Beth crossed their path-and her smile disappeared.

“Hi, Adam,” The Blond One said shyly, ignoring Harper. “You ran off so quickly before… when Kane came over… well, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me today.”

Harper looked sharply over at Adam, whose normally open face was shut up tight. She couldn’t read him at all. And she didn’t like it.

“And what did this wonderful guy do for you today?” Harper asked, in a sugary sweet tone. She leaned her head against Adam’s chest. His heart was pounding.

“He didn’t tell you?” Beth’s oh-so-innocent smile widened. “He spent his whole afternoon teaching me how to ski. I’m sure you would much rather have been off on the black diamonds or something.”

“No, I-” Adam looked down at Harper and cut himself off. He continued in a much more formal, measured tone. “I was happy to help, Beth. Now, we should really get Harper back to the room.”

Beth gave Harper a weak smile. It wasn’t returned.

“Okay, well-thanks again,” she said, offering Adam an awkward little wave. “It was… good to catch up.”

“Yeah.” Adam tugged Harper away, and they began shuffling down the hall as fast as Harper could hobble.

“That was very sweet of you,” Harper said carefully, anger and fear simmering in her chest.

“I didn’t plan it-,” he began.

“Oh, of course not.”

“But you should have seen her out there.” He chuckled at the memory. “She had no idea what she was doing.”

And that was your problem how?

But Harper stopped herself before the words could pop out of her mouth. She had a choice. She could follow her territorial instincts and make sure Adam knew just how wrong he’d been to spend the day with the enemy. And then lie about it. She could pick a fight with him that would probably end up with her limping back to her room, alone. She could leave him secure in the knowledge that she was a jealous, unforgiving harpy-and leave him free to chase after the sweet and innocent princess of his dreams. What would Beth do? she wondered. It was galling to even ask herself the question-but, given the starry look in Adam’s eyes every time that blond hair crossed his field of vision, maybe it was also her smartest move.

Beth, the doormat, the good girl would likely just bite her tongue. Smile. Tell Adam she was happy to see him move on from his anger. Beth wouldn’t care if Adam befriended an old girlfriend-or if she did, she’d know it wasn’t her place to say anything. It was the kind of behavior that made Beth into such a limp dishrag, at least in Harper’s estimation, but it was also the kind of behavior that made Adam love her. And if that’s really what he wanted, maybe it was worth a try.

“Well, she’s lucky she had you around to help her,” Harper said finally, with as much sincerity as she could muster.

“You mean that?” Adam asked, giving her a searching look. “I thought you’d be mad. That’s, uh, why I didn’t say anything before.”

“Of course I’m not mad, Ad-you can hang out with whoever you want. And”-she paused, choking the words out was actually inflicting physical pain-“I’m really glad to see you and Beth getting along better. I’m really happy for you.”

Adam pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. “Do you know how amazing you are?” he asked.

Great. Just one problem, Harper thought sourly, beaming up at him. That wasn’t me.