Page 77 of Just Let Go

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I don’t even want to know what she said to you.” Quinn dug her poles into the snow.

He didn’t respond.

“I won’t be offended if you want to go with her.”But I will be really, really annoyed.

“No way,” he said. “We’re learning to ski here.”

Why did she feel relieved by his response?

The lesson continued. He taught her about proper posture, about not leaning backward, and how to stop—in theory. She felt comfortable on the flat ground, but when he suggested they try one of the bunny hills, she bristled.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she said.

He watched her for a few seconds. “You are.”

Going down a bunny hill with a bunch of very small people shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It seemed like a silly thing, really. She was a grown-up. Twenty-eight was practically thirty. That was a real adult age. The bunny hill should not scare her.

But then, neither should leaving Harbor Pointe or getting on an airplane or doing anything outside of her comfort zone. Grady really did have her pegged, didn’t he?

“Come on, killer,” Grady said. “You’ve got this.”

Somehow, Quinn felt like she was standing on one side of a line and Grady was on the other, coaxing her forward. She knew she had a choice. She could stay warm in her comfortable little cocoon, this world she’d built for herself—or she could take one small step toward the unknown.

And who knew what would come after that? It was the not knowing that gave her pause. And it was likely the not knowing that excited Grady.

He stood in front of her, motioning for her to move toward him. “Come on.” He started skiing backward—show-off—and gradually, she started in his direction.

A kid in a green snowsuit zipped past her. Her arms swung around in a circle as she struggled to keep her balance, and remarkably, this time she didn’t fall.

“Look at you,” Grady said. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

She started to move a little more confidently than she had when she’d been pulled away from the chair lift. Beside them, a group of small children giggled. Were they laughing at her? Before she could decide for sure, they all took off down the hill like pro skiers.

They weren’t even afraid of falling.

She wanted to find that inspiring, but instead Quinn’s mind started in with a barrage of fear-invoking thoughts. They could collide with someone else or slide headfirst into a tree. They could tumble head over feet and break multiple bones. But children didn’t think of those things, did they?

“Come on. It’s time,” Grady said. “You’ve got the basics. All that’s left is for you to actually do it.”

She stuck her poles into the ground. “I think maybe this was a bad idea. Have I made it clear that I’m not very coordinated?”

“Oh, you didn’t have to make it clear.” He laughed.

“See? It’s obvious. I shouldn’t be up here. I’m going to end up breaking my arm. Or worse, my neck. Who will win top prize at the Floral Expo then?”

He frowned. “Top prize?”

She snapped the goggles back down on her face. “Never mind.”

“Are you entering a competition?”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.” She eyed the hill. If she weren’t such a chicken, she’d push herself off just to get away from him. What was with her telling Grady all her secrets today?

“Why do you do that?” He was looking at her—she could feel it.

She kept her gaze ahead at the seemingly insurmountable task in front of her.

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