“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can fix me.”
“What…?”
“Look around.” He jerks his head toward the lobby area behind him. “This whole place, everything you do, is to help broken people get better. I’m not like them. I can’t be fixed.”
“Who says they need to be fixed? They’re not broken. They’re overcoming an obstacle and will come out the other side stronger because of it. You could, too.”
Ryder’s eyes snap to mine. In their murky brown depths, I see a mixture of hope and distrust warring for dominance. The intensity of his stare makes my belly flutter, but I hold his gaze, sensing he’s too fragile right now for me to do anything other than stand by my words.
When his expression starts to soften, I allow myself to exhale. Licking my lips, only inches from his, I think for a moment he’s going to lean in. To press his mouth against mine. Despite my earlier anger, I want him to. I want him to silence the turmoil in his mind and indulge in something that might bring him some semblance of joy. Any feeling at all really.
With me.
As his eyes drift to my mouth, I hold my breath, waiting.Hoping. Imagining what it will feel like when his lips press against mine. Whether the hint of stubble on his face will be coarse enough to mask the softness of his lips, or if I’ll even notice that over my erratic heartbeat. But instead of closing the distance he shakes his head firmly and steps back, ending the moment.
“It’s too late for me,” he growls, retrieving his bag from where I dropped it on the floor and stalking off toward the lockers.
Stunned and disappointed, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans with a heavy exhale, willing my heartbeat to return to normal as I second guess my version of events.
Maybe he wasn’t looking at my mouth. Maybe he didn’t feel something pass between us.
I should be grateful he didn’t kiss me. Aside from the fact it’d be highly unprofessional, it could be interpreted as forgiveness, and that’s not the kind of message I want to send. Ryder deserves empathy, but not a free pass, and I can’t place a priority on his well-being just because I’m attracted to him. I need to think of the bigger picture, and in terms of being a reliable resource for our clients, Ryder’s a wild card.
Still, as he pointed out, I’m naturally inclined to help people overcome their obstacles, and he’s clearly got a big one holding him back. I want to support him in moving past it, and I’m not convinced it’s too late for him.
Whether he wants to admit it or not, Ryder’s a different person on the slopes. Almost like he’s living in the present instead of the past. I’m sure losing his brother has something to do with that, and I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to lose a sibling, but I know firsthand living in the present is crucial to moving past whatever grief he’s feeling. In that regard, this really is the best place for him. Here, he'll be able to see other people overcoming the hand they’ve been dealt and learning to reclaim some of what they lost. It’s not a cure, but it’s the first step.
I think Carter anticipated that, which is why he pushed so hard to get Ryder on the mountain. And after witnessing him ride myself, I have to agree. Time on the slope might be the key for Ryder to quiet the demons in his head. To remind him that he has just as much right to happiness as anyone.
Happiness. I had both Ryder’s and Max’s in mind when I didn’t stop Ryder from heading to the lockers just now, but safety is what should’ve been my priority. Apparently, all it takes is for a hot guy to look at me with sorrowful eyes and my backbone vanishes.What am I doing?
I never bend the rules, yet something about Ryder compels me to do it. Is it because he’s so good looking? So tortured? Or maybe it’s that I feel like I’m actually getting through to him? And behind the wall he’s built, there’s a genuinely good guy. One I’d like, if he’d allow him to come out of hiding.
It’s honestly hard to tell. I’ve made a career out of helping people, so I want to believe that’s all I’m doing now. Then I think about how my heartbeat accelerated when his face was inches from mine, his full lips looking so soft to the touch, and I wonder if my libido isn’t trying to take control.
I’d recuse myself from managing him, except I don’t think Carter would do much better, since it was his idea to get Ryder back on the mountain in the first place. Plus, recusing yourself isn’t really a thing in this business, so the final decision is going to come down to me. I only hope I haven’t screwed it up.
***
“Knock, knock.” Beck from the restaurant pops his head through the doorway as he knocks on the frame. “I wanted to drop these off for you.”
“What are they?” I hold out my hand to accept the stack of papers he’s offering.
“Flyers for the holiday parade.” He plops into the chair in front of my desk. “I figured you could set them on the rental counter or maybe hang some in by the lockers so the guests can hear about it.”
“You work at the restaurantanddo the parade?” And here I thought I had a full plate.
“Oh no.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “The historical society does the holiday stuff. My moms in it and she asked me to pass out the flyers since I work a few shifts up here. Not today, but it’s easier to say yes than explain my schedule to her.”
“We have a historical society?”
Beck chews on his lip. “More like a group of ladies who have taken over a corner of the bookstore to display books and pictures and stuff from over the years. But they keep all the traditions like the parade going. All the parades.”
“There’s more than one?”
“We havelotsof parades. And dress up events.”
“I didn’t expect this town to be so fancy.” I thought I mumbled that to myself until Beck answers.
