Chapter Eleven
Austin pushed back the coffee table so they could sit in front of the fire as they ate. He’d turned off the kitchen lights and was watching the glow of the fire dance on Sam’s naked skin. She was flushed and luscious and he wanted to yank off the blankets he’d brought and take her all over again.
“Is this what you always do after a day on the mountain?” Sam ripped a piece of crusty bread from the loaf and dipped it in the soup.
He laughed. “If only I could get Connor to come cook for me every day.”
“He certainly helped you out this time.”
Austin grinned. “I lure you here with promises of Connor’s cooking—”
“Don’t forget about the mind-blowing sex.” She waved her spoon at him.
He sat up straighter. “Mind-blowing? Really?”
She rolled her eyes.
“As I was saying,” he teased, “I lure you here and get you all comfortable, so by the time you realize it’s mostly leftovers or whatever’s happening at Mack’s, it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” Sam asked, and Austin flushed. He’d better watch himself before his mouth ran away with him. It was easy to say these things. It was much, much harder to follow through.
“Just too late.” He took a sip of beer. “That’s all.”
He thought he saw her give a half smile, but her hair fell over her shoulder and shielded her face. He reached over and brushed the strands back. He was right, she was smiling. It made something well up inside him. “I have to tell you something,” he said.
Sam looked at him in immediate concern. “It’s not a big deal,” he said quickly, wondering what she thought he was about to spill. “I just wanted you to know I’ve never taken anyone there before.”
“Where?”
“The shelter. On the mountain. I don’t just mean for, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I mean I’ve never shown it to anyone, period.”
Sam lowered her spoon. “Never?”
“I’m sure other people know about it—I’ve seen tracks. But I’ve never brought someone there. I’ve never been there with anyone else.”
Sam looked at the fire. He wondered what she was thinking. Maybe it was stupid and didn’t mean a thing. Maybe it meant everything and would scare her away. But right when he was about to tell her to forget it, it was just a thought that had popped into his head, because he hadn’t wanted her to think he was taking all sorts of women to his special sex spot or whatever—he could say this with a laugh, he was already practicing his indifference in his head—she set her bowl out of the way and scooted closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hair cascading down his arm, and he knew she understood.
“You were supposed to show me your knee,” she said after a long pause in which they watched the flames leap in a mesmerizing show.
Austin laughed, a nervous tightening inside. Just because he’d told her one thing didn’t mean he wanted to get into everything. “I was just kidding about that.”
“It’s the whole reason I came over. Your ass is so-so. I really wanted you naked so I could see that sexy patella of yours.”
“You know, you’re kind of an asshole,” Austin said. “I’ll have you know some women have appreciated this very fine behind.”
Sam burst out laughing. “Oh, honey.” She stroked his arm. “I’ve been called so much worse.”
Austin wanted to know what that was supposed to mean, but she was already going after him so she could flip off the blanket and get to his knee. He let her pin him down, commenting how much he liked the view as her breasts hung close. She pressed her palm over his mouth to silence him, then replaced her hand with her lips and kissed him.
“The knee,” she murmured, sliding her naked body along his. “Tell me the story about your knee.”
He hesitated. The need to tell someone ached constantly inside him, just like the pain in his knee. If only he could get it out, unlock the secret from that place it was buried, maybe all his old hurts would finally heal. He pictured himself saying the words, telling the story, as though that was all it would take to make him okay.
But he couldn’t do it. As he shifted to show Sam where the pins and wire bored in to keep his leg together, he heard a thud that might have been Chloe upstairs or might have been in his mind. His mother’s suitcase dropping as his father lunged. Glint of metal. Somebody’s cry.
His heart raced, sweat on his brow. It was too much, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t let her know how weak he was, how unlike the person she thought she knew.
Sam was looking down and didn’t notice what was happening to him. She traced the mess of scars with her fingertips. “Ouch,” she whispered, and pressed her lips to his knee.
“Sometimes it’s stiff,” Austin said, trying to keep his voice steady. “But you get used to the pain.”
She drew herself up so she was nestled against his shoulder, the blankets pulled around them as the fire sputtered and danced.
“The accident really happened two weeks before the Olympics? You couldn’t have had worse timing.”
Austin imagined jumping up, grabbing her clothes, sending her into the night. Hitting the gym until he couldn’t breathe from exhaustion instead of from the fear tightening his throat. He wanted to forget, not bring it up all over again.
There was no way he could tell her the truth.
He found, though, that he couldn’t follow through with his usual lies.
“I used to spend every second wishing things had turned out differently. But you know what?” He shifted so he was facing her, their legs intertwined. “I can’t say what might have happened instead. I might not have medaled. I might have been injured later, in some other way. I could have had an amazing career. I could have been disappointed.” He shrugged. “I guess there’s simply no way to know.”
“You sound at peace,” Sam said softly. She ran a finger along the side of his face. Austin pretended to snap his jaw to catch her finger in his teeth. She pulled back just in time, then reached for him again. Her eyes were soft. He wondered what she was thinking, if she believed him. It sounded so good, he almost believed himself.
“When you do something where you could be injured, you always know everything you’ve worked for could be over in a heartbeat. Sometimes I feel like I made my peace before I was even hurt. I knew it was coming. I knew what I was going to do.”
The truth surprised him. He was talking about skiing, but he was also, unbeknownst to Sam, telling her about his father. In some way, he’d known exactly what was going to happen when his father reached for that hammer. And he’d let it happen anyway.
“Other times I feel like you’re never prepared. Even when you choose, even when you think you know, you can’t predict what’s going to happen. You can’t say where your life is going to go.”
You can’t understand, when you’re yelling at your father to hit you, exactly how long twelve months of rehab is going to feel.
Sam leaned back, resting her back against the couch. “I guess I’m still at that crossroad, trying to think everything through. I think I know what I’m doing and then…”
“And then what?” Austin asked when she didn’t go on.
“And then, surprise, I have no idea what’s next.”
“Well, yeah. That sounds about right.” Austin shifted and started stacking their dishes, ready to move the conversation onto less personal ground. He knew this was a chance for them to open up more to each other, but he’d said all he could. He didn’t want to push Sam to share what she was referring to and then have her turn around and ask the same questions about him. Questions he never answered, for anybody, no matter how beautiful they were. Especially when they were only around for such a short time.
“Dessert?” he proposed.
“You think of everything.” Sam began to scramble up.
“Stay there,” Austin said. “I’ll bring it to you. I hope you like chocolate.”
“Naked chocolate eating? Have I died? Is this heaven? Are you real?”
Austin laughed. “Do you mind if I let Chloe down? She’s used to being the only girl I have in front of the fireplace.”
“Not at all! I didn’t mean to make her jealous.”
“She’s a little spoiled, I’ll admit. Just wait here and I’ll be back in a sec.”
He was happy to see her draw the blankets around her and get comfortable on the couch, apparently undisturbed by his revelations—or lack thereof. He could feel his heart rate settling back to normal, the sudden sweat that had broken out beginning to cool. He hadn’t said too much. He didn’t have to be afraid.
They spent the rest of the evening in front of the fire, the remnants of cake and coffee on the table. Chloe lay on her bed while Sam and Austin curled up together on the couch. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, only that when he woke up the fire had died down to embers and Sam was asleep, too. He tried to get up without waking her, but she stirred.
“Hey,” he whispered, brushing her hair off her cheek. “It’s late.”
“Mmm,” she murmured.
“I can drive you back if you want.”
Her eyes opened sleepily. “Hmm?”
“I said I can drive you to your car.” He paused. “Or you can spend the night here.”
“Driving back means cold and cold means clothes and clothes are terrible.” She tugged the blanket tighter around her.
“I like the way you think.”
“Will you think I’m too presumptuous if I admit I brought a toothbrush with me?”
“Now I really like the way you think. But let’s go upstairs, it’ll be warmer. There are blankets on the bed and you can borrow pajamas if you’re cold. Unless of course you brought your own?”
Sam grinned sheepishly. “Part of my presumptuousness meant I wasn’t exactly thinking about clothes.”
Austin fed Chloe and steered Sam upstairs, the blanket trailing behind her as she walked with it wrapped around herself. He liked this funny, sleepy side of her, a little out of it, too tired to be clever or on guard. For a moment something clenched in his chest at the sight of the light through the crack underneath the bathroom door—this was his space, no one was supposed to be here. But when she came out, still naked, hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep, he couldn’t help but reach for her again. They fell asleep wrapped tightly together in the middle of the bed, even though there was plenty of room.