Page 82 of The Breakaway

“You were the one washing out my water bottles.”

Rob reached for the syrup. He cleared his throat. “I was doing dishes anyway.”

“Yeah, but it meant a lot more to me than that,” I murmured, finally putting the pillowy soft bite into my mouth. I sighed, the lemon and blueberry exploding over my tongue. So good.

I wanted it to be Logan. All of it. Because if it was Logan, then the last year of my life made sense. And if it wasn’t . . .

I took another bite. “You might as well just tell me now.”

Rob shrugged. "He asked for a favour, and I did it. No big deal."

No big deal.I looked up at him, my mind racing. "How many other ‘favours’ have you done for him?"

Rob set his fork down, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're making it sound like some kind of conspiracy."

"Why would you do it? Just help him like that? When you knew you wouldn’t get the recognition?” I stabbed another piece of pancake. “I’ve been thanking him for the water bottle for the last six months, and he didn’t say a word.”

Rob swirled a piece of pancake in the syrup, leaving trails of bruised indigo in the maple. "You know why.”

I slowly chewed and swallowed. “No, I don’t.” My eyes landed on the letter again. Still sitting on the counter.New Year’s.

“He gave me a place to live. Pretty sure I can live with no recognition for my dishwashing.”

I considered this, but the twist in my gut didn’t go away. Logan wasn’t honest with me . . . or was he? I didn’t exactly thank him out loud. It had all been in my head, and the onetime I did bring the water bottles up, he didn’t know what I was talking about.

Maybe he was just that clueless. Or maybe I was making up stories in my head?

I slumped over my plate. "Am I going to find out that Logan doesn’t do his own laundry? Or that you would give me a ski lesson, not him?”

Rob chuckled. “I don’t do his dirty-ass laundry. But the skiing.” He looked up. “You don’t know how?”

I waved my hand, dismissing the thought. "Not really. I went once when I was a kid. School field trip. He said he would take me for a lesson this winter." I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Maybe he still will when he gets back."

Rob’s expression said, “Good luck with that.”

I leaned back in my chair. "You know something I don't?"

Rob shook his head. "No, but you know what his schedule is like. We’ll be up to our necks in practices and games, and Logan has some catching up to do with his classes.” He took his last bite of pancake. “Maybe just don’t get your hopes up.”

Hopes. That word was laughable. They had slowly been crushed one by one over the past month. Add this one to the list.

Rob picked up another pancake. "I don't have any plans today."

I looked up from my plate. "And?"

He poured a bit more syrup on his plate. "I used to be a ski instructor. We could go to COP. It's not Banff, but it's close, and they have rentals. Douglas students get a free one-day lift ticket every semester." He set the jug down and met my eyes. “You could still give Logan credit.”

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

We pulledinto the crowded parking lot at Canada Olympic Park. The sun was shining, and the snow glistened under its rays. Families and kids swarmed the area, the dads looking like pack mules hauling all the equipment.

Rob parked, and we made our way to the rental shop. The air smelled of snow and hot chocolate, and I breathed it in deeply. Inside, the chaos was even more intense. People lined up, tried on boots, and selected skis and poles.

My pulse quickened as we waited our turn. "Have you ever skied here?" I asked, trying to keep my mind off the fact that I was about to look like an idiot in front of him.

He nodded. "A couple times. Mostly for the jumps.” My face blanched, and Rob laughed. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “No jumps for you. Promise.”

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