Page 89 of Fall for You
You mean emotional women who can’t seem to stop crying?
She cringed as the thought ran through her head.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.” He leaned forward until he was in her line of sight.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not some problem you have to solve, you know?”
His lips twitched. “I know. But you are clearly struggling. And I’m really good at finding solutions—helping people out of a jam or getting them back on track…or finding a new path.” His smile was smug. “It’s kinda what I do.”
She couldn’t help a breathy snicker. “Oh yeah? I didn’t realize you were head of HR.”
He laughed and shook his head. “HR loves me.”
“I’m sure they do.” She arched a brow at him and was satisfied with the flush of color that lit his cheeks before he cleared his throat.
“Okay, so they don’talwayslove me, but I’m telling you, I’m good at helping people solve their problems.” He hit her with a look so sincere it made her heart buckle. It didn’t help that he’d softened his voice to a gentle lilt. “Let me help you, Ronnie.”
When she didn’t immediately start talking, his brows dipped together, and she thought this might be it. He’d given up, and she couldn’t decide if she was more relieved…or disappointed.
What?
“Think of it this way,” he finally said. “I’m an objective party, right? Up until recently, we hadn’t even seen each other in years. Since I’ve got a different perspective, maybe I can bring something new to the table. Something you haven’t considered yet.”
Okay, so he wasn’t giving up.
And a wave of emotion hit her, making it nearly impossible to speak.
He wasn’t giving up.
So, after a little sniff and a thick swallow, she managed to rasp, “I think…I think part of the problem is…” She looked away from the warmth in his eyes. It would definitely make her cry, and she’d never get this out. “I’ve never needed help before, and I don’t want to need it now.”
“We all need help sometimes.” His voice was soft and low and so freakin’ kind it had her blinking rapidly to keep from weeping.
“Yeah, maybe.” Her answer was grudging, and he chuckled.
“Come on.” He nudged her knee with his. “Try me.”
She took a deep breath, held it for a long beat…
Then finally surrendered.
“Snowboarding used to be fun, you know? It was all I lived for. The first thing I thought about when I woke in the morning. Every day. I was always hanging out to get to the slopes, begging summers to finish faster so I could get back up there. And then I hit the circuit, and it was glorious. I got to board all year round. It was so exciting and intense and…and there was this momentum that…” She held her breath, then expelled it on a whooshing sigh. “That started to feel like a hamster wheel, you know? Every new win led to new expectations, and that’s good, I guess. But there’s this whole other side of it. The business side…” Her expression buckled, and what started as a halting explanation soon turned into a tsunami of words.
She told him all about the contracts, the sponsorships, the endless training, and the way her family had come to rely on her ever-increasing income.
“And now, I don’t know why I’m doing this anymore.” She fell silent, and she freakin’ loved that he didn’t try to rush in with words of comfort or, worse, tell her why she shouldn’t be upset—or even why she should.
He’d just listened. And then he let her sit in silence as they both absorbed all that she’d said.
When he reached a hand out, she slid hers into it without a second thought. He gave her fingers a little squeeze that made her belly flutter and her chest ache.
“I’m sorry. I never do this,” she suddenly blurted. “I never talk like this, and?—”
“Please don’t apologize.” His voice was gruff. “I’m honored that you opened up to me.”
She met his gaze and then looked away quickly, oddly shy at the intensity in his eyes.
“I’m here for you, Ronnie. You know that, right?”
