I watch him go up the stairs and disappear into his room. A part of me wants to go after him. A part of me—and this doesn’t make me happy at all—wants to take his face in my hands and caress his cheeks until that sad look leaves his eyes. And then another part of me says I should just get Knox out of my head.
I came to Aspen to start a new life and to concentrate on myself. I have a great goal, and I’ll only meet it if I’m focused. My intention to leave Minneapolis and find myself anew as a powerful woman in the Rockies is what gave me the strength to escape Ivan. It took me years.
And now? I’m standing in the kitchen of a star snowboarder,allowing myself to feel more for him than I should. I shouldn’t care about Knox one way or the other. I’m here to get to the Olympics. This job is a means to an end. The fact that I’m under one roof with Knox cannot distract me.
I never want to be bound to someone ever again, because, in the end, it will destroy me.
Once again.
16
My Mind Is a Battlefield
Paisley
That latte macchiato from two hours ago definitely didn’t have a positive effect. If I could have one wish at the moment, it’d be a caffeine drip. In my mind’s eye, I see myself out on the ice, one hand out for balance, the other pulling an infusion stand behind me. Last night’s bass is still ringing in my ears.
With fumbling fingers, I bind my hair into a bun, grab my skates, and leave the changing room. Training hasn’t begun yet, so I take the stairs up to the iSkate lounge. Most of the time, it’s full of mothers watching their young ice-skating daughters. Minneapolis wasn’t any different; all day long they’d drink coffee, gossip about the girls’ outfits, and purse their lips whenever their own daughter didn’t land a jump. When I was younger, I always wished my mom would be one of them, watching and waiting for me at the end of the day. Maybe even treating me to a burger at Wendy’s afterward before going home. But she never did. Instead, she let total strangers pay her to give them hand jobs. Or more.
The server behind the counter smiles understandingly when with heavy eyes I ask for a strong coffee. She hands me a large mug. Ithank her, turn, and look around the lounge. I see Aaron, Levi, and Gwen at one of the back tables.
“You can’t bring that, Gwen,” I hear Aaron saying as I approach the table. He runs a hand through his red hair, pushing it out of his face before it simply falls down again.
Levi nods. “Your dad would have your head.”
“Only if I don’t pull it off,” Gwen replies. Fidgeting in her chair, her hands clasping a cup, she gives the impression of an excited child waiting on Santa to bring the gifts. I notice that she’s dyed her hair. Instead of the formerly rosé color, from her shoulders down her brown mane now is a daring silver.
“If you don’t pull what off?” I ask, pulling up a chair. Gwen squeals, throws her arms around my shoulders, and hugs me.
That’s when it happens. My heart begins to race, my hands begin to sweat, and my chest constricts. Her embrace triggers panic; the pressure and proximity catapult me back to Minneapolis. Suddenly, they are no longer Gwen’s arms, buthis. No longer Gwen’s floral perfume, buthissharp aftershave. Not Gwen’s soft skin, no, but his scratchy stubble. My head is spinning, an unending whirlwind raging and killing all the colorful flowers that over the last number of days have found the strength to grow. And yet, every feeling of pain is an experience, too, and every one of them makes a nest for itself inside me. They never really disappear. Sometimes any little old thing can bring them back to life.
The panic came up quick, overpoweringly and unexpectedly. I feel like I’m back there again. Back in that house. And it hurts. It really fucking hurts.
“Gwen,” I hear Aaron say. In my head it sounds far away and dull somehow, as if I was underwater. “Let go of her!”
Almost immediately, I sense her pull her arms away. I feel free, the fetters around my chest disappear. I gasp for air and, luckily, the dots in front of my eyes soon disappear and my heartrate goes back to normal.
Gwen, Aaron, and Levi are staring at me. They all have the same concerned look on their faces.
“Everything all right?” Aaron asks, his forehead wrinkled. “You’re paler than Harper was when Polina told her that her Lutz was a catastrophe.”
“All good,” I murmur. My hands are trembling slightly as I wipe them off on my pants. “It’s just my circulation. Knox…didn’t let me sleep all that much.”
Gwen’s eyes widen and Levi’s dark eyebrows shoot into his forehead.
When I realize what they must be thinking, I let out a sigh. “People. Do you all only connect Knox with sex?”
“Yeah,” Gwen and Levi answer in unison.
Aaron looks from me to Levi and back before shrugging and adding, “I shall hold my tongue, but the other two are right. Everything you hear about Knox has to do with sex, parties, and scandals.”
“Then take the second category there. Yesterday was my first day of work and he threw aProject Xparty with total strangers.”
“His parties arealwaysfull of total strangers,” Gwen says. “Nothing strange there.”
Levi nods. “John McEnroe showed up once, but no one noticed but me.”
“Who’s John McEnroe?”
