Page 33 of Stuck on the Slopes

“So, why not?”

“I’ve seen how dicey shit can get when you date a coworker. Allison went out with this girl for a while who also had Rick for an agent. It ended up in a disaster and shit was awkward forevermore. And not for nothing, but after my last girlfriend turned out to be a backstabber, in more ways than one, I’m not exactly ready to jump into the sack with anyone.”

“When did you break up?”

“About four and a half years ago.”

“Oh, come on, Juniper. Give me a break. Besides, Rachel doesn’t strike me as the type.”

Edgar was right—these were nothing more than excuses based on the walls I’d built and had no interest in tearing down. It felt like Rachel was climbing them without even realizing it, inching her way closer and closer to the depths of my heart. I wanted her to bulldoze right through them. Another part of me wanted to build them higher.

“It’s for her own good, anyway. Scrutiny, remember?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Tell her I said I hope she feels better and I hope she enjoys her pancakes.”

“Do you spit in hers, too?”

“No, no. Just yours.”

I shook my head as I grabbed the bag and turned to leave. “Excellent.”

When I reached Rachel’s room, I knocked on her door three times with two knuckles. I heard footsteps shuffling before Rachel answered. Her baggy gray sweatpants rested on her hips low enough, when paired with her long-sleeved T-shirt, it revealed a sliver of soft midriff. My eyes trailed to it as I felt overwhelmed by the desire to run my fingers across her bare skin, curious how she’d feel to the touch.

“Juniper! Hey!” Her voice was almost muffled by the disposable blue mask she wore, covering her face below the eyes. After a few days, it felt good to hear her voice again and to see her up and about, and I forced myself to look at her face before I let my thoughts trail off too far. She looked paler than usual, but that sparkle was still in her eyes, acting like a spotlight for all of her expressions.

“How are you feeling today?”

“A lot better compared to yesterday. Thank you again for helping me out.”

“Get some rest today, too,” I said as I held up the bag in my hand. “I brought you breakfast from downstairs, including plenty of fruit for vitamin C.”

“Thanks.” From the way her eyes squinted as she took it, I could tell she smiled. “I’d invite you in, but I don’t want to get you sick.”

I nodded once. “Understandable. Take all the time you need to feel better, okay?”

“I should be good to go come Monday. But I appreciate that a lot.”

“Did your fever break yet?”

“I took my temperature this morning. Finally under 100.”

“That’s a relief. Do you need anything else? I can take you to the doctor or call one out here if you need it.”

“Thank you, but it’s seriously no biggie. I’m probably at eighty percent. What’s got you so worried?”

As I shrugged my shoulders, I shifted my weight onto my other leg, causing my right hip to crack. “These winters can be brutal if you try to go it alone. People die, Rachel, and I’d much prefer it if you didn’t.”

“It’s just a cold.”

I smacked my lips, feeling embarrassed. She was right, but a part of me couldn’t help the lingering fear. I wished I had an answer for her other than an anxiety that crept up at the mere idea of a near-death experience. Maybe this was some residual effect of the snowboarding accident.

But I definitely wasn’t ready to unpack all of that, especially as I stood in her doorway, staring at her brown hair that sat in a messy bun on top of her head. I realized I’d never seen her without makeup until now, and also she didn’t even need it with her naturally wide eyes. Maybe it was because she wore a disposable mask, but I saw everything in her gaze: curiosity, reassurance, and something I couldn’t identify that made me simultaneously shrink and want to reach for her.

Not only was I unwilling to unpack my anxiety, but I was also not about to unpack my attraction to her as she recovered from a cold. So, all I said was, “Great. Let’s keep it that way.”

I could have sworn she smirked beneath her mask. “You know, I’d almost think you gave a shit.”

I raised a brow. “Don’t push your luck.”