brb, gotta go write this down. Inspo for the next book.
Isabella
Val, you have an entire notebook and computer full of half-baked story ideas.
Val
AND? Our girl is over here living like the freaking Meet Cute dream!
Let. Me. Live. Vicariously.
Aimee, love of my life. I’m going to need a run-down of everything. And I do mean everything.
Val named the conversation “Book Whore-ders.”
Isabella
VAL STOP CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS GROUP
Val
Make me bitch
Jessa
stop making fun of my overflowing shelves, geez.
Also, Aimee ik you’re lurking in this chat, but like, if you don’t date him, I’m flying out there and I’m going to smash your faces together like I did with my dolls as a kid to make them kiss.
Aimee
CHAPTER 15
lukas
I didn’t seeAimee for three days.
Three incredibly long days.
Orion must’ve filled everyone in on what happened, because the next time I saw Eloise, she’d apologized. I’d waved her off, but she’d further confided in me how bad it was early on, and that Aimee just wanted to be alone. Her secluding herself bothered me—formed this ache of anxious worry throughout my chest. I hated that because of what happened, she felt the need to withdraw herself…to shut herself away.
I didn’t have any right to be frustrated—I wasn’t family and I hadn’t been there, but it irked me that those closest to her just let her suffer in silence. I let out a breath. That wasn’t a fair assessment, I knew that. It wasn’t fair to any of her loved ones, that my own anger towards the situation blamed them.
I rubbed my chest where it ached.
The blue down jacket I’d wrapped myself in prevented me from applying the pressure I needed to help ease the ache. I wanted to do nothing more than to go up to her door and demand entrance. I wanted to pull her from her desolate isolation.
I stared down the slope before me and watched as bodies grew smaller as they moved away. The sky was crystal blue—no cloud in sight. It would have been theperfectday to bring Aimee up here. The snow was bright and blinding, and everything just seemed less severe. Peaceful. You could leave your problems at the base of the mountain and just be in the moment at the top. I stomped my feet, my skis slipping a bit in the snow as I used my poles to keep me steady. Moving my legs to build momentum, I started down the slope with the hopes that this run—which was particularly difficult—would take my mind off things. My coach would be here any day, and honestly, he was going to kill me once he found out how lax I’d been with my training.
Half way down the slope, I knew I wasn’t going to be lucky.
My brain didn’t want to turn off. It had taken to replaying that confrontation—how she’d looked when I came around the corner, eyes wide in fear, apprehension, and dread. Her body tucked in tight, tension and panic radiating off of her. It hadn’t been a choice, at least not a truly active one. I saw her, and then I was in front of her. And then, I was punching the guy. I’d gone to first aid later to have them check out my hand. It was a little bruised and still hurt a little bit, but I had no regrets.
Once my brain was done replaying the confrontation, it singularly focused on the way she’d curled into me, the heat of her body, how well she fit in my arms…how she’d tucked herself into me even once her brother showed up. All the things I wanted to feel every day with her.
I maneuvered around others on the slope who were taking the run at a slower pace. Slalom skiing required speed, so I was zooming in between—trying to be respectful and not an asshole who thinks they own the mountain. I could have gone over to the practice course, but I’d just wanted to ski. So I weaved in and out, speeding down the slope, snow getting kicked up in my wake. The cold wind chapped my lips, and had the tip of my nosestinging a bit. I relished in the feel of it, the release it brought me.
My phone started buzzing incessantly in my pocket, so I skidded to a stop off to the side of the run.
