Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) (2 page)

Rush watched him barge through the glass doors with his chin held high. He’d like to knock that pointy chin into tomorrow.

Marcus shouldn’t even be there. He hadn’t volunteered like Rush and a few of the other team members had to help his buddy Blake Carter’s wife, Danica, teach a ski workshop for kids from her youth center, No Limitz. Community outreach was important for Rush’s and his teammates’ images, but Rush hadn’t volunteered for that reason. Blake was his buddy, and he liked to promote the sport to youth. Hell, if it were up to Rush, he’d teach kids to ski the minute they could walk.

Rush held the door open as the volunteers from the women’s ski team filed through, listening as Jayla tried to disengage from the press.

“Any messages for your fans?” The red-coated reporter shoved a microphone in her face.

Since winning her gold, Jayla had been all over television and radio commercials as well as print ads for Dove and a few of her other sponsors, and young girls from all over had emailed her in support, many thanking her for inspiring them. Jayla wasn’t the type to get an inflated ego. Prior to Marcus consuming Jayla’s personal life, Rush had been by her side when she personally answered many of those emails, and her genuine gratitude had reeled his heart in even more. Then again, gratitude and sincerity were integral parts of Jayla’s sweet nature.

“Yes. I appreciate their support. I love hearing from them, and I hope to make them proud next weekend.”

“Any plans for the next Olympics?” a different female reporter asked.

The next Olympics might be two years away, but Rush, Jayla, and the rest of the team practiced as if it were right around the corner.

“Train and win.” Jayla slung a bag over her shoulder and waved as she walked away. A reporter hurried beside her, and Jayla slowed just long enough to say a gracious thank you before catching up to Rush.

“Thanks, Rush,” she said as she came through the door.

Rush leaned in close and tried to mask the storm brewing in his gut. “Thought you were coming alone.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So did I.”

He’d seen her flinch when she lifted her bag, and since she’d had two previous shoulder injuries, Rush did what he’d always done. He reached for her bag.

She glared at him. “I’m fine.”

He held up his hands in surrender.

Most women were needy, clingy, and while Rush was all too happy to spend a few hours getting his groove on and pleasuring them, he wasn’t the type to listen to bitching and moaning and to answer questions like,
Do these jeans make me look fat?
He’d learned this lesson early in life, when he’d answered honestly on more than one occasion.
No, the lard in that cake you just downed makes you look fat
. Jayla wasn’t like most women. She was intense, competitive, strong. Those were just a few of the many qualities he loved about her. She was a freaking bulldog when she wanted to be, and she was also stubborn as a goddamn mule.

Rush tried to ignore the clutch in his chest as she flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and flashed a smile at Marcus. He and Jayla had met at ski camp as teenagers, and they’d quickly become as close as two friends could be. He trusted Jayla with his dirtiest secrets, and he knew her deepest fears. He was surprised that after all these years she still put up with him and that he hadn’t fucked up their friendship, especially now that he realized—or rather,
accepted
—what a womanizing douche he’d been for all those years, something he’d never tried to hide from her. He had his eldest brother, Jack, and a comment from Jayla to thank for that little eye-opening nugget of truth. Although they’d shared the details of their personal lives, they’d never judged each other, and for the first time ever, he was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut. In order to make it through this messed-up week, he pushed aside thoughts of Jayla and Marcus and focused on the upcoming North Face Competition, the last race of the season.

“Ow!”

Rush turned and caught a glimpse of Jayla rubbing her arm. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, locking a heated stare on Marcus. He could hardly believe she’d gone out with him once, much less that they were still together after three weeks. It made no sense at all. Marcus was a total controlling prick, and Jayla was…He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the litany of qualities he loved about her or how long it had taken him to finally open his eyes and realize just how much he loved them.

Jayla was facing the opposite direction, and without walking over, he’d have no way of knowing if Marcus had hurt her or if she was bitching about breaking a nail. Then again, Jayla didn’t give a shit about her nails. Never had.

Marcus slung his arm around Jayla’s shoulder and turned away with a smirk. Rush didn’t miss the way Jayla’s body went rigid beneath his touch.

Not my problem
.

JAYLA RUBBED THE back of her arm where Marcus had squeezed too hard. He’d done that a lot lately. Squeezed too hard, demanded too much. Everything about Marcus was intense, from his brooding dark eyes to the way he stewed over every move he made on the slopes. Jayla had never met a man who stayed up nights mulling over what he could or should have done differently, down to the millisecond. It was that intensity that had first drawn her to him—and it was that intensity that had driven her to the decision to break up with him. Now she was seriously reconsidering her decision to volunteer this week. Marcus wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposedly
too busy to help a bunch of nobody kids
. In fact, volunteering had been Jayla’s brilliant plan to decompress before her last competition. A few days without Marcus—and with Rush—would have allowed her to actually relax and would provide the space she needed to go through with the breakup and rehab her aching shoulder in private.

“Sometimes I don’t realize my own strength,” Marcus said in that sexy, apologetic voice that made her heart soften. Well, that and his insanely handsome face and rock-hard body, which made most women’s brains turn to mush—as hers had in a moment of stupidity. She’d always been careful about the men she dated. They were in training when Marcus had asked her out, and she’d thought it would be a good distraction from her sore shoulder and the stress of competition. If she was honest with herself, she would admit that maybe…just maybe…she’d accepted the date to make Rush a little jealous, which was asinine at best.

He’s only here to get me settled in
. She glanced at his luggage, which sure looked like he planned on staying for the week. Her stomach clenched. She’d known she needed to end things with Marcus two weeks ago, but between training, competing, and Marcus’s flash temper, she hadn’t wanted to deal with the aftermath of the breakup. She was a queen at masking her emotions, but the pain in her shoulder was slowly testing that ability. She knew that what the doctor had told her after her last injury was true. They’d been able to rehab her through the first rotator cuff injury and the second shoulder injury, a small labral tear, but with two shoulder injuries in just under two years, another labral tear could mean her competitive skiing days were over.

She had bigger problems to deal with than breaking up with Marcus.

She glanced at Rush, hoping he hadn’t heard them and that he hadn’t seen her flinch at the twinge in her shoulder when she’d lifted her bag. He stood at the registration desk, his back to them. She’d never kept secrets from Rush, but after she’d seen his reaction to her first two injuries, she wasn’t about to tell him about the latest one. She hadn’t even told the coach. They’d both be on her case to see the doctor, which would probably mean being told—
officially
—that she could not compete. There was no way in hell she was going down that sorry path. In another week, Rush would be back to his womanizing ways and focusing on making up for this year’s celibacy—which she found strange for him anyway. A quick bang with no strings attached had always been his way to ease the pressure of competition. But swearing off women completely during competition? That was
not
typical Rush Remington style. In another week she would have three months to spend rehabbing her shoulder in peace…and counting down the days until she saw him again.

Rush turned, and his electric-blue eyes caught on hers. Her breath hitched, and her pulse sped up at the jolt of attraction that she’d always felt toward him but knew better than to act on. God, she hated the way her body reacted to him.
That’s what I get for falling in love at thirteen with a guy who runs from commitment like the word itself carries leprosy
. The right side of his lips cocked into a sexy half smile before he turned his attention to Teri and Kia.

“Look at Teri and Kia,” Marcus said with a snort, shaking his head. “They’re like fan girls when Rush is around.”

Her chest tightened. Marcus was always dissing Rush, and though Rush was a player, he had never purposefully hurt Jayla, which was more than she could say for Marcus.

She watched Rush lean against the wall, and although his back was to her, she knew his eyes were at half-mast in a casual, I-know-you-want-me gaze.
Ugh!
She had all of Rush’s looks memorized. Not that she was proud of that fact, or would ever admit it to anyone except herself.

“Earth to Jayla.” Marcus waved his hand at her. “Eyes on
him
again?”

She’d fantasized about being one of the women who shared Rush’s bed, what it might feel like to have his big hands on her body, his chest pressed against hers, and then—thankfully—sanity would find her again. The last thing she needed was to be a notch in Rush Remington’s belt and risk ruining their friendship. Being his friend was safer, easier. She got the best parts of him.

Well, almost…

She shifted her gaze to Marcus and exhaled. Why was it that when it came to Marcus she was a wallflower and when it came to everyone else in her life she was anything but?

“No.”

“Let’s hope not. I’ll go get you checked in,” Marcus said and headed for the registration desk.

She watched Marcus lean on the registration desk and pictured his eyes wandering over the attractive blond receptionist’s perky breasts. The blonde smiled and fiddled with her necklace. She was sure Marcus thought she didn’t know about his wandering eye or the way he flirted with anyone in a skirt. Or jeans. Or snow pants. She turned away just as Rush, Teri, and Kia disappeared out the back door that led to the private cabins they’d booked. A spear of jealousy shot through her. She’d give just about anything to be with them.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she read the text as Marcus crossed the lobby toward her. Her heart stilled when she saw Rush’s name on the screen and quickly read the text.
Sneak out later? Like camp?

She laughed beneath her breath and texted back.
Can’t.

She’d been
can’ting
for weeks because of Marcus. She should have taken her sister Jennifer’s advice and dumped him right away—or she should have called her other sister, Mia, and had her force her to do it.
Hindsight might be twenty-twenty, but it feels like shit.

“Okay, you’re all set.” Marcus held up a key.

She reached for it, and he flicked his wrist, burying the key in his palm. She had to end this—upcoming race or not—before she kneed him in the groin and told him exactly what she thought of his controlling ways.

She sighed, thinking about Marcus and Rush—and Rush’s revolving bedroom door. She’d gone out with Marcus looking for something more. A real relationship, and maybe even to finally try to get past her feelings for Rush. She was starting to believe that her girlfriends were right. Maybe she should consider doing what they did. A few free drinks, a night of pleasure, and never look back. That’s the last thing she wanted to do.
Maybe all men really are assholes.
She felt her heart squeeze.
Even Rush Remington
.

CAN’T
. RUSH WAS so sick of Jayla saying or texting
can’t
that he could puke. He flopped onto the king-sized bed in his luxurious cabin and crossed his hands behind his head. Blake Carter’s cousin, Treat Braden, owned the resort, and true to his reputation, it was nicer than most of the resorts Rush had stayed in recent months. The spacious cabin had cathedral ceilings with exposed wooden beams in the living room, kitchen, and the bedroom suite. The living room had a propane fireplace, oversized sofa, comfortable reading chair, and a big-screen television. He let his mind drift to Jayla. He wondered if she was calculating how much practice time she could fit in, as they used to do in her pre-Marcus days, or if she was thinking of him.

His chest clenched at the situation. Goddamn, sweet, funny Jayla with her beautiful brown eyes, long brown hair, and those kissable, cupid lips. The thought of her lips touching Marcus’s made his gut twist. He and Jayla were securely entrenched in the friend zone. Until about a year ago, when something his brother Jack had said and one of Jayla’s comments about his revolving bedroom door had finally opened his eyes, he’d thought that was right where they belonged. He was wrong. Damn wrong.

His muscles tensed as he thought of her and Marcus. He sprang from the bed. That was one bit of trouble he didn’t need to get involved in. He grabbed his parka and headed out the door.

Kia and Teri were on their way up to the resort. Kia’s thick red hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, while Teri wore her dark hair up in a ponytail. They made no secret of wanting a piece of Rush—singularly or together—but beyond the fact that Rush wasn’t physically attracted to either of them, he’d never believed in dipping his ski in the team snow.

Until he realized he was in love with Jayla.

“Hey, Rush,” they said in unison.

“Going up to the meeting?” Kia asked as she chewed on a piece of gum like a cow.

“Looks that way.” He heard yelling coming from one of the cabins.

“
Ugh!
Marcus and Jayla,” Teri said as they all turned in the direction of the shouting.

He stopped cold. He could count on one hand how many times he’d heard Jayla raise her voice over the past fifteen years, and one of the five times was currently taking place.