Page 27 of Ski You Later
Watching a lady push the Smith machine bar up with her feet causes me to form the first smile I’ve had since the incident. The issue is, every time I remember this morning, my chest starts to throb with how embarrassing the entire interaction was.
As I really think about it, there’s some good that came out of it. I put enough trust in a guy to ask for help. Which hasn’t happened since Daniel hurt me.
On the other hand, he did reject me, and I was too much of a coward to even hear him out.
So, pros and cons to the situation for sure.
Just the fact that I felt so comfortable asking Roman for such a big favour makes me cringe. Why on earth would he ever want to be my fake boyfriend? What would he even get out of that? The fact that I’m going to see him at training tomorrow makes me groan out loud and I fall sideways onto the couch.
The sound of the front door slamming shut causes me to brace myself as I hear my name ring through the house. “RHODES LANGLEY!”
During my intense mental spiral, I had totally forgotten about one person who always feels the need to know about my business. Aurora.
She storms into the living room, planting her feet in front of the couch as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Explain. Everything. Right now!”
Her yell causes me to pull away as I slowly sit up. I'm debating on what I can even say about last night, but I never get the chance. “Where did you even go? Someone told me that you went home with ROMAN! Roman, Rhodes? Are you serious? I mean, he’s the worst guy you could have possibly gone home with! He’s such an ass!”
Aurora continues her tirade, but I can’t listen to this for one more second. Even after everything, I said Iwould start defending him more, and there is no time like the present.
“Aurora,” I stand as I say this. My interruption and movement shocking her into silence. I never cut off my best friend, instead choosing to always let her rant and yell.
But I’m not in the mood for this today. I could not be less in the mood even if I tried, and I’m going to defend him.
“You have to stop. I know you don’t like him at all, but you need to give Roman a chance. If not for him, then for me.”
This time I’m not going to back down. Aurora’s personality causes lots of people to cower from her. Which is usually just easier, and I tend to just agree with whatever she’s saying. But, if this is going to work, I have to look her dead in the eyes and show her I’m serious.
Her eyes narrow in my direction; a hesitancy overcomes her as she looks at me. “Is something going on between you two?” She asks with curiosity filling her voice.
I suppress the laugh that bubbles up in my throat, his rejection still so fresh in my mind. More than anything, I want to unload my thoughts and let Aurorain on my humiliating morning. Unfortunately, that’s just not the best idea right now.
Not telling Aurora about my ridiculous proposition is the right move in my mind. She would only pity me and try to murder Roman. Neither of those being constructive things that could help my issue.
“No. I promise I would’ve told you immediately if that were the case.” Grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze, I make sure she knows I’m telling the truth.
The fight leaves her body as she visibly relaxes before me, and she smiles as she squeezes my hand back. Expressing a breath, she flops onto the couch and looks up at me with curiosity.
“Alright, I’ll take it easy on Roman, but you have to tell me this.” I return her quizzical gaze and take a seat opposite of her. “Where did you sleep last night,” she asks with a knowing smile on her face.
My face flushes red as I lean back into the cushions, Aurora’s smile only growing the longer I stay silent. While I’m not going to tell her about my stupid proposition, I see no reason to hide the rest.
“Roman’s bed,” I say quickly, covering my face with my hands.
Aurora’s resulting scream fills the house.
CHAPTER 11
This is going to be more dramatic than I would’ve liked.
Using every ounce of energy I have left, I push myself harder and cross the finish line.
Even though it’s well below freezing, sweat drips from my hair and into my eyes, to the point that it blurs my vision.
My training bib migrated up my torso during my run, so I absently pull it down so I can properly display my number. Every team member has a training number to keep track of their time, and I’m happy to be lucky number fourteen.
I ski a little way down from the end of the course to ensure there’s enough room for the racer behind me to stop without hitting me. We’re training giant slalom today, which means everyone’s reaching speeds upwards of eighty kilometres per hour.
The last thing I need in my life right now is to be hit by my teammate finishing their run.
