Nothing can convince me this is the way to salvage myself.
CHAPTER TWO
ALARA
“Excuse me?”
As all the drowned-out sounds come buzzing back to life with a simple blink, I realize I’ve been zoning out – losing myself in my overpowering thoughts and letting my worries get to me.
I can’t focus today. It’s terribly annoying, because I have tons of tasks to complete, starting with filling up the gloves section. So far, I have only emptied one box. Three more to go.
Maybe I need a coffee. No, correction, I definitelydoneed to inject some caffeine into my system. I hadn’t been able to grab my daily dose from the Latte Lounge this morning, since I’d been running late to open the shop, so now I’m moving at a snail’s pace and unable to concentrate on the easiest job to ever exist.
“Hi. How can I help?” I turn my attention to the mom and her kid, looking at me with small smiles, which brings an answering beam to my own lips.
“We’re looking for the helmets?”
“First aisle at the front of the store. We have a renting service if you don’t want to invest in equipment,” I say, gesturing tothe front desk where my dad is helping a customer with his purchases. “Joe would be happy to assist.”
They head that way, and I keep an eye on them just to make sure they find what they’re looking for.
It’s a busy day at Rock Snow. The cool breeze filters through the open door each time a customer walks in, voices boom from left and right, music echoes in the background. There’s never a dull day in the winter, but there’s nothing I love more than helping my parents at the store.
Since I decided to move back to Blue Ridge Springs a couple of months ago, I’ve been working full time while I figure out what to do with my rather blurry future. It’s only a temporary solution, but one I deeply love.
Rock Snow has become ever more popular over the years, as the resort has been attracting more and more tourists and winter sports lovers. The mountains surrounding this town are sensational. The slopes are exhilarating, the view breathtaking. A few Olympic champions grew up around here too. My dad’s best friend, Wyatt Wilson – a snowboarding legend – was actually the one who pushed my parents to open the gear store decades ago.
This luxurious cabin was renovated before I was even born. The wooden panels give the place a cozy vibe, the smell of pine trees constantly circulating in the air. The store offers a large selection of items, going from winter clothing to skiing gear to snow boards and even ice skates and hockey sticks. By the fitting rooms, there’s a seating area with leather armchairs surrounded by high bookshelves full of all types of books about winter sports.
Deciding I’ll head out to grab a coffee once I’m done with my task, I go back to rearranging the gloves as my brother walks by me, his phone pressed to his ear. Being the owner’s daughter has its perks; I can take a break whenever I want.
“What do you mean we haven’t reached our monthly goalyet?” Jordan asks in a hushed voice, mostly not to attract any attention. I assume he’s talking to Freddy, his assistant. When he senses my curious gaze on him, he grins to mask his obvious frustration, pushing his brown hair back before sauntering toward the front of the store. “Check the stats again and call me later.”
With his recently launched winter athleisure line, Jordan has been glued to his phone – always taking business calls and sending out important emails. His clothing brand is his most prized possession, and I’m so proud of my brother for being successful. I’ve always envied him – he knows what he wants, he’s not a quitter, and he doesn’t let anything get in the way of his goals. We’re complete opposites, yet we’d cross every ocean for each other.
“Oh shiiiit! Who is that motherfucker?”
Jordan’s delighted voice makes me peek around the aisle just as the store’s doors close behind two incoming customers. I instantly recognize Gaby, my best friend, as she smiles at my dad and brother. Behind her, there’s a man who falls into Jordan’s embrace and pats him on the back after a beat of immobility. I don’t know how I notice the reluctance from where I stand, but the blatant difference in the two men’s energy is intriguing. Jordan is a social butterfly, though, and would hug anyone he gets along with – even if he barely knows the person.
“What are you doing here?” Jordan asks the guy, as they part ways. My brother is practically bouncing with excitement, which makes me wonder how many Red Bulls he’s already ingested today.
Then, Jordan shifts to the side, giving me a better view.
Holy shit.
Is that—
Thelastperson I would have expected to visit.
The realization hits me like a violent gust of wind, making mycheeks heat up in the most embarrassing way. Diego Ramirez stands next to his sister as he answers my brother’s questions. My pulse pounds so loudly that I don’t hear his response. With his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, he glances casually around the place, a subtle frown on his brows. I scoot back, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.
I never thought I’d see Diego again, especially since he’d clearly decided he was too good to stay in Blue Ridge Springs. The memory of my unrequited, foolish crush blooms afresh like apparently dead flowers in the spring, and I hate it. I hate that I’m reacting this way, especially after all this time.
“Crap,” I whisper, gazing at the ceiling. What is he doing here? And why hasn’t Gaby told me anything?
“Are you hiding?”
I startle as Gaby jumps into view, mischief in her smile. “Warn a girl next time,” I hiss, lightly smacking her arm with the pair of gloves I was holding against my pounding chest.
