“Slow the roll,” Connor instructs. Then he looks me dead in the eye and says, “Less fucking, more making love.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’ll need a different analogy, Coach. I’ve never done the latter.”
“Fuck’s sake, Vox, just do it again, but slow it down.”
“Show me,” I say, already unstrapping my boots at the bottom of the small hill. My bag is down here, so I quickly pull on my regular boots, nudging the snowboard boots toward Connor. The genius that I am, I checked the boots Connor was wearing last night when I found him hyperventilating in the snow. We wear the same size.
His eyes snap to mine, wide with fear and anxiety.
“Hey. You can do this. No one’s out here but me, and I’ve got you.”
I asked for this bunny slope over any of the others because of the privacy it offers. The slope I found him on yesterday was tucked against a condo building, so anyone looking out their windows would be able to watch him suffer, and that just didn’t sit right with me.
Out here, we’re surrounded by trees, not buildings.
I take a risk and clasp the back of Connor’s neck, pulling his face closer to mine.
“If I didn’t think you wanted to get back on a board, I’d drop it. But I think youdo, and you shouldn’t have to fight for it alone.”
He’s breathing heavily again, and I wish it were due to desire instead of panic.
Connor grabs my forearm, and I feel his hand shaking. Instead of pulling my hand away from him, he’s clinging to me, keeping my hand in place.
“I never wanted the other coaches or the team to see me like this.You, least of all.”
I ignore the comment, not wanting to increase his vulnerability at this moment.
“Let’s get these boots on, yeah?”
“Okay.” His voice is so small when he says it.
“I’ve got you,” I tell him again. “Whatever this is, you can beat it.” Connor stays standing because he’s not wearing waterproof pants like I am, and I drop to my knees in the snow to begin untying his boot laces. As he slips his first foot into the snowboard boot, I try to lighten the mood to get him out of his head a little. “Feel like Cinderella yet?” I ask, looking up at him.
Without missing a beat, Connor says, “If I do, does that make you my Prince Charming?”
“If you get on this board, I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”
I figure strapping both feet in at the same time might be a bit overwhelming. I just want him to get one foot on the board and skate around a bit, but as soon as the first foot is in, it becomes apparent that he can’t make himself go.
I place his back foot on the board and grab his hands, locking them onto my waist. Immediately, I feel his fingers diginto my sides. I latch onto his hips and begin guiding him in a straight line, nice and slow, like this is his first time on a board.
“Look at you,” I whisper. “You’re doing it.”
He swallows hard. “Hardly. Fuck,this is humiliating.” He leans forward, and his forehead hits my shoulder.
“It’s nothumiliating.It’sprogress,Connor.”
I help him turn, and we go back the other direction. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, he loosens his grip on me ever so slightly.
“I’m not letting go, but can you show me what you meant about the slow hip-rolling thing?”
Nodding, Connor demonstrates the speed at which he wants me to move my hips. The only problem is now I’m standingrightin front of him, supporting him on this board, so even though he doesn’t come in contact with me, he’s still sending me into a lust-driven spiral.
“Oh-kay,” I croak. “I think I got it.”
With our faces three inches apart, Connor says, “Are you always a fast learner? Or just for me?”
I give him the sternest look I can muster—which, admittedly, isn’t very stern.
