My brows knit together. I must have sighed heavily enough for her to hear. “Who are you calling superstar?”
“Do you see another professional snowboarder in the store?”
Okay, I’m impressed by her witty responses.
She’snothinglike I remember. She’s older, more gorgeous than ever, more outgoing. From what I gathered from Gaby, she’s just graduated college too – something I never did, let alone considered. She seems lively, extremely smart, caring.
Before I can reply, Joe walks in. He grins when he spots me and claps a friendly hand on my uninjured shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Good.”Terribly,is what I want to say.
“How’s everyone at home?”
“Good.” This time, it’s not a lie. “Mom’s ecstatic that I’m here, Gabs too. Valentina is busy with midterms.”
There’s no comparable feeling to being home. Mom’s cuisine is, as usual, exquisite, which I made sure to tell her when she made dinner for the four of us. Valentina helped me clean the dishes after, all the while talking my ear off about her group of friends from school, and Gaby came to hang out with me before we both fell asleep on the couch.
And even though this entire situation is pissing me off, knowing I have my family to come home to after a long day makes this somehow better.
“I’m glad to have you back too.” His voice lowers. “I know it all seems like a punishment, but we’re not here to make your life a misery. You’ll get back on that board before you know it.”
The lump building inside my throat becomes thick and hard to swallow. “Thanks.”
Joe nods, squeezing my shoulder in silent encouragement. “Okay, well, if you need anything just let me know. Alara’s happy to help too.”
“I’m sure she is,” I grumble. When I look over to the front desk, she’s nowhere in sight.
But then she pops around the corner, slipping a coat on. “I’m going to grab a coffee from the Latte Lounge. You guys want anything?”
“The usual for me,” Joe says, then drops a kiss on her temple before sauntering away. “Thanks, sweetie.”
“Anything for you?” Alara directs at me.
“No.”
Slowly, she nods. “You’re charming, you know.”
A muscle in my jaw tics. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
It’s so strange, the way she draws me in. So, I watch her walk away until she’s out of the shop, and I run a frustrated hand through my hair, not caring if I tousle it. I get lost in my thoughts, wondering what I’m supposed to gain from this.
Having to make up for my attitude by working at the store feels akin to having a bucket of ice poured over my head. I’m hyper-aware of what is at stake – my whole future – but I still don’t want to admit that the team, Coach, and the sponsors could drop me if I don’t fix it.
“Excuse me?”
I turn around in time to find a woman, probably in her mid-thirties, looking up at me.
I blink, and she takes my silence as a form of encouragement to continue asking about whatever it is that she wants from me. “I’m looking for base layers.”
My brows pull together, trying to remember the shop’s outline. “They’re two aisles down, to your right.”
“Thank you so much.” The customer offers me a smile, but I simply turn around and resume my boring task.
I don’t know how many minutes pass by until I realize I’ve been glaring at the thick pair of socks bunched in my fists. My name is being called, and I try to relax my frown when I pivot, but the annoyance stays simmering deep in my gut.
To be honest, I would rather unload boxes or do inventory instead of helping out customers. I haven’t been in the mood to socialize, and I don’t have what it takes to be a good sales assistant. I know the only reason Coach asked me to work here is to fuck with me.
Glaring at the camera hanging above my head, I hope that Coach has access to the recordings. I hope he can see the hatred in my gaze. I’m so close to flipping him off, but I’m a better man than that.
