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“I think she wants us. Selina, I mean,” I tell them, eager to get past the discomfort. “Otherwise, she never would’ve allowed Jason and me to be in the hotel room that night.”
Matthew nods slowly. “We’ve got all winter to make this happen.”
“Something tells me we won’t need that long,” Jason chuckles softly.
As if summoned, Selina comes downstairs. For a second or two, I find myself breathless in her presence. She’s wearing jeans and a gray sweater. Nothing fancy, nothing posh, nothing over the top. But her red hair is combed over one shoulder, a ruby cascade flowing and capturing the morning sunlight’s rays as she walks past the eastern windows. And her breasts—full, delicious morsels I’m dying to taste again—bounce slightly with each step despite being firmly nestled in a soft bra. Her hips sway as she joins us in the living room.
“Good morning,” Selina says, her cheeks pink, her bright eyes searching our faces.
I can’t help but smile as she takes a seat next to me on the couch, while Jason dashes into the kitchen and returns with a coffee mug for her. Steam rises from the hot drink as she gives him a thankful nod and takes the first sip. I’m stuck watching her lips press against the mug, wishing I were the coffee sliding down her throat and soothing her heart.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask.
Selina’s smile makes my heart skip playful beats. “Like a baby.”
“Good, because we’ve got a full day ahead of us,” Matthew says.
“Okay. What’s it full of?” she asks.
“We’d like to hit the sky slopes, for starters,” he replies. “The first snow is my favorite even though it’s softer, but the temperature has been consistently low, and there’s more coming in the next couple of weeks. This first layer is great just to warm up for the season.”
“The ski slopes it is, then. Except I’ve never skied in my life,” she says, laughing lightly.
“Oh, right, you used to play tennis,” Jason remembers. His gaze softens whenever he glances her way. I get it. I totally get it.
With any other woman, I might’ve felt a pang of jealousy. But with Selina, it’s different. She’s so easy to be around, so sweet, kind, and funny, despite the hardships she has endured. She’s the type of woman that appeals to us, not someone who is all-consuming and possessive. The difference between being with someone like her versus being with Cynthia is staggering. I can only hope that what happened with Cynthia will remain a part of our past that will never spill into what we’re trying to now build with Selina.
“Yeah, all the way through high school. Well, until I was sixteen, to be specific,” Selina says, lowering her gaze. It’s obviously a sensitive topic, but Jason can’t help himself.
“Why’d you stop? Didn’t you like it?”
“I loved it,” she sighs. “A knee injury forced me to retire and focus on school, instead. It just about killed me to give up tennis, my whole life was on that court. But then I found fashion design and I guess every rejection that the universe throws your way is, in fact, a redirection.”
That’s seems to be more of a brief summary of what she went through. I’d recognize that pain of defeat anywhere, that sense of uselessness and insufficiency before one finds another way through life. I felt it when I left the Marine Corps and found myself aimless, without purpose. Fighting and violence had made sense. So I figured out a way to build something with it, something that doesn’t destroy, something that disciplines and empowers, instead. I think that a similar thing happened with Selina when she got into fashion design. It gave her the meaning she’d lost when they told her she could never become a professional tennis player.
I am looking forward to every single moment that we’ll spend together. And like Matthew said, we need to be patient for her to fully open up to us. It’s a matter of when, not if, judging solely by how warm and relaxed she has become in our presence.
* * *
A coupleof hours go by on the principal slope before Matthew and I retire to the Ashton Bar for some mulled wine while we watch the skiers wear themselves out. It’s almost noon, which means lunchtime, and certainly the skiers are all working up quite the appetite, Selina, in particular. Jason is teaching her how to ski, and I haven’t laughed so hard in ages.
Matthew and I sit by the window, overlooking the slopes. We can see Selina struggling to remain upright on her skis while Jason rolls alongside, keeping an eye on her, and guiding her how to move her arms and legs, keeping her core tight. Yet Selina always manages to lose her balance and land on her round, plump ass. Not much of it is visible through the thick, lilac ski jumpsuit, but I had my hands on it last night, and I remember the feel of her flesh, the bounce, the round curves and the deliciousness awaiting in-between.
“How can she be so light-footed and still manage to fall like that?” Matthew chuckles.
“Give the girl credit, at least she keeps at it and doesn’t quit,” I reply.
“Yeah, she’s got the right spunk in her, that’s for sure.”
I look around, noticing the people sharing the Ashton Bar with us. It’s mostly tourists who have come in for the weekend, but it’ll get more crowded the deeper we go into winter. The bar is stocked with an impressive variety of wines and bourbon, various flavors of hot chocolate, cappuccino and coffee, and the bistro cuisine is light but locally sourced. Maybe the four of us will grab a bite here before heading back to the cabin.
The bar was built in the early 1980s to accommodate a growing flux of tourists in need of a place to stop and rest before jumping back on the slopes. Its interior is walnut wood, with an abundance of vintage framed posters and photos covering the walls. The seating is simple but elegant, with plaid textiles and solid wood tables, and the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon lingers in the air at any given time.
“I do want to help her find a more permanent solution when we get back to Rhode Island,” Matthew says after a long sip of his wine. “I can’t let Selina live out of a suitcase any longer.”
“She won’t accept any kind of charity.”
“It’s not charity I’m thinking about. Remember that apartment I had downtown?” he asks.
