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“Fair enough.” I repeated her phrase back to her.
The car slowed as we turned off to her hotel.
“I hope everything works out for you,” she replied. “It was really nice meeting you. Thank you for the ride.” She reached for her bag, but I grabbed it from her.
“I’ve got this.”
“See, you’re a regular hero.” She winked.
I rushed around the side before she could get out, carrying her fancy duffel in my hand. Surprise painted her face as I opened the door for her, which struck me as odd. Didn’t most men open doors for women? Besides, I couldn’t just boot her out of the car, even if it was just to walk her to the lobby. Mom didn’t raise a jerk—despite what the media reported about me.
“I’d give you my card in case you need anything, but I’m about to be out of touch for a little while.”
“The super-secret lawsuit thing.” Her eyes twinkled with laughter.
“Yep, that. I can give you my driver’s information—”
“I’m good. Really. You went above and beyond, thank you.”
“Glad you’re okay,” I replied, handing her the duffel. “Sometimes those crowds get nuts.”
“That’s got to be hard, living that way.”
Uncomfortable with how easily this woman seemed to see me, I shoved my hands into my pockets. I wasn’t typically so honest with women, and they weren’t normally so keen to get to know me, outside of Flynn Jackson, champion snowboarder. Olympic hopeful. Playboy of the slopes.
“It’s tough.” I cleared my throat. “It was nice to meet you, Amber. I hope you have a wonderful stay while you’re here.”
“Thanks, Flynn.”
I gave her a half smile and headed back to the car.
“Do you think anyone followed us?” Charles asked as I climbed in.
“No. I didn’t catch a glimpse of any paps, but honestly, I was just trying to get out of there.”
“Bad today?” he asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s driveway.
“I had to yank her up off the floor. It was a madhouse in there.”
Charles shook his head, no stranger to the chaos that sometimes accompanied me. “It could be bad press if anyone saw you with her.”
“What was I supposed to do? Leave her after I pulled her out?”
“No, sir, you did the right thing. I simply don’t want matters to look worse for you.”
“I don’t care anymore,” I muttered, slouching down in the back seat.
“Now, Flynn—”
“I know, I know.” I waved a hand at him. “Can I just not worry about it for the rest of tonight? Can I have that?”
“I won’t mention it again, sir.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. Comfort settled in my belly as I watched the familiar terrain whiz by, snowflakes hurtling themselves at the windows in the late winter snowstorm.
Fitting.
Over the years, I’d seen my share of mountaintops, cruised down many a slope, but nothing compared to the runs I’d grown up on. It was the only thing I’d found that really gave me peace in moments like this.
