Page 17 of Ski You Later
“Here,” he says quickly. Pushing the loaf tin towards me as if it burns him.
I suppress a smile at his bluntness and take the dish from his outstretched hand. Carefully putting it on the shoe rack beside me, I turn back to see his eyebrows furrowed in my direction.
“You’re dressed very nicely. Why?” He states plainly.
“What do you mean why?” I immediately respond. My stance becoming defensive from his stupid question.
He crosses his arms over his chest and manages to look down at me, even though I’m a step higher. “I mean, why are you all dressed up on a Thursday night?”
Tilting my head down but keeping my eyes up, I lift a brow at him. “Come on, you know. The team always goes out on Thursday nights.” I realize my mistake immediately as his eyebrows lift in surprise, but he quickly masks his face again.
“Oh right, I forgot,” he says as his voice betraying nothing. “Where’s the team going tonight?” His question immediately plays his hand since the team goes to the same bar every week.
“The Cave on campus! You should come tonight,” I respond enthusiastically.
Turning around so I can lock my door, I can hear his footsteps retreating behind me.
“Wait, where are you going? I yell at his back.
Rushing down my stairs to catch him, I awkwardly jog as I see he’s already made it to his car. Lightly jumping down the last stair, I take one more stepand feel the ice under my boot too late. I don’t manage another one before I feel that full impact of my butt hitting the hard ground.
It would be a flat-out lie to say that this hasn’t happened before; I always forget about the black ice patch at the wrong time. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and try to process the pain throbbing through me.
“Rhodes, holy shit! How did you even manage that? I didn’t even know that was there. I am so, so sorry. Shit, shit.” I can hear Roman’s rambling, his tone becoming more frantic as he keeps talking.
“Ouch, ouchie,” I close my eyes and whine. I’m not proud of the whimper that follows my statement, but my tailbone is shooting pain throughout my whole body.
Opening my eyes after a couple of composing breaths, I see Roman’s kneeling right in front of me. His hands lean on his knees as he looks at me with the most concern I’ve ever seen on his face.
“Rhodes. Are you alright? You haven’t talked in a whole minute, so I’m getting concerned here.” My pain morphs into anger as I shoot him my most withering of glares.
“You. Aren’t. Funny.” My statement comes in segments as I try to breathe through the sharp discomfort in my tailbone.
“I’m pretty funny,” he retorts. Worry is evident in his voice, but his joke makes me feel a fraction better.
The embarrassment of slipping quickly overtakes that good feeling. It’s the first time Roman has ever been to my house, and I fully cartoon slip in front of him.
“I’m alright; I just need a second,” I inform him. After a couple more calming breaths, I aim to push myself up, but Roman’s already there. Both arms lightly grasp my elbows, and he uses his strength to pull me up.
He remains right in front of me as I stand, clasping both my arms and looking me over with worry. “You’re a disaster, Langley,” he whispers. The words hanging in the air as neither of us attempts to pull away from each other.
I can’t help but smile at him and allow the tiniest bit of confidence to enter into my tone. “You look like you could use a little disaster in your life, Huxley.”
His small smirk causes a full one to bloom across my face, and I can’t help but admit how much I love this look on him. His facial features are relaxed for once and he’s displaying the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen. I make a mental note to do more things that make him smile.
I attempt to step away so he doesn’t get uncomfortable, but my lower body immediately protests. Pain shoots up my back at the movement, causing my knees to buckle without my permission, and Roman’s grip to tighten on me.
I let out a forced chuckle as I gather my bearings, the pain being more manageable as I make small movements with my legs. “Sorry, that was weird,” I chuckle and try to brush off this situation. “Did you want to join us tonight?” Standing on my own, I take a step away from him, and his arms fall back to his sides.
“Join you where?” He questions as he moves his arms, not seeming to know what to do with them anymore. After settling on crossing them over his chest, he focuses all his attention on me.
“The bar?” I question back, adding fake confusion into my voice.
“You can’t go out like this!” He practically yells into the dead silent street, throwing his arms up in the air with frustration.
His outburst makes me pause, putting my hands on my hips as I square up to him. I pretend the motion doesn’t hurt terribly as I glare upward.
If there’s one thing that no one can do, it’s dictating what I do with my time.
