Page 32 of Worth the Rush
“Well, I guess I have to be.” I open the truck door and hop out.
“Before we get started, I want to show you something,” he tells me and puts his hand on the small of my back, gently nudging me forward. After about thirty feet, I open my mouth to ask, “Are we there yet?”like a bratty teenager when I’m stunned silent.
The view that I’m beholding is one I’ve never thought I would see in real life or even believed was real. The sunlight is streaking the mountains in the most beautiful, brilliant gold I’ve ever seen. It looks like a painting. Like an award-winning photograph that someone spent their life getting just right.
“It’s stunning,” I rasp.
“It is,” he agrees. I don’t take my eyes off the view, knowing that it won’t look like this for long, but I still snipe at him.
“You better not be looking at me, action hero.” He chuckles.
“And if I was?” he challenges.
“I would roll my eyes, but I don’t want to miss this,” I tell him, watching the sun rapidly rise now. I can feel it on my face, and the snow looks like it contains thousands of specs of glitter. I smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Anytime. Have you eaten this morning?” I hear him ask from somewhere behind me. I glance back and see him bending over in the snow, looking through a backpack.
“Uh, no. Just the coffee,” I admit.
“Here.” He pulls out a power bar and tosses it to me. It hits me in the chest even after my attempt to catch it, and I’m thankfulhe didn’t see that. Not that I care all that much what he thinks of me, but shit, I guess I do. This whole day will probably be one that puts all my insecurities on display.Why did I agree to this again?Oh, yes, because he is pretending to be my boyfriend while my ex-husband galivants around the resort with his new fiancée. The turns my life has taken. I unwrap the protein bar and take a bite.
“You know, this isn’t the worst one of these I’ve ever tasted. Most remind me of sweet, gritty cardboard.” I tell him, holding up the bar, and he looks at me smiling.
“I order these specifically for that reason. That and they have twenty grams of protein. That will get you through the lesson until you can get a decent meal in you,” he tells me.
“Thanks, Dad.” I mutter, and he laughs.
“You got it, pumpkin,” he croons sweetly, then I’m laughing with him.
“Oh my gosh, stop. Let’s get this lesson started. What do I need to do?” I ask with my hands on my hips. I have been on a snowboard exactly one time, and it wasn’t exactly for me, but I have to say…my instructor was nowhere near as interesting as Alder.
“We’ll start slow. I just want you to get a feel for the board. Come here,” he orders me. I wish I could say that I didn’t like him ordering me around.
“Can I touch you?” he asks with his hands extended toward my legs.
“Yes,” I say, entirely too fast. He smirks but says nothing about it. He just grips my calf and slides my foot into one of the bindings on the snowboard. He clicks it into place and asks me to stand on it. Once I’m locked in, he has me do a couple of squats while holding onto my hands.
“Okay, now I want you to treat the board like a skateboard and skate around for a minute,” he says.
“Mmhmm. And what makes you think I know how to do that?” I question, and he grins.
“Have you ever seen someone on one? Hold on.” He runs back to his truck and grabs his own board, attaches one foot, and skates over to me. Propelling his front foot on the board forward while kind of scootering his back foot.
“Okay, so like a scooter?” I ask.
“How many times in your life have you been on a scooter, and do you have photos?” he quips, and I shove at his chest, almost tripping over the board I forgot I was strapped into. “Now you try,” he urges, and I do. I skate in a straight line.
“Good,” he comments, and I roll my eyes. “Now, I want you to get comfortable with getting up in case you fall down. Sit back,” he instructs, and I do until my ass hits the snow. He skates over and bends down to strap in my other foot.
“Okay, so first, I want you to reach forward and grab the board between your legs with one hand, and with the other, you’re going to push off the ground.” I do as he says, and my body pops upright. “That’s great. Give me a couple more of those.” I lay back into the snow a couple more times and rise to standing. “Okay, now we’ll practice from our stomachs. I want you to lay back and then grip the board with either hand and pull it with you while you roll onto your belly,” he informs me. Okay. I do, and it takes more effort than I thought it would. Now I’m face down in the snow.
“Now what?” I ask him, a bit muffled and out of breath. Just a little embarrassing. I’m not exactly the picture of health. I’m slim-ish, but I owe that mostly to genetics and mental health walks. I don’t lift weights, and I don’t skipdessert. “Alder?” I call when he hasn’t given any further instructions.
He clears his throat, but his voice still sounds a little hoarse when he answers me. “Yeah, princess. I’m here,” he assures me, and I hear him skate around until he’s right in front of me. “I have to tell you, though, you, in this position, is a little distracting,” he admits, and I flush scarlet. I think the snow under my face may start melting. Remembering that first night in town, I can see why this might jog loose a memory.
“Well, could you please focus? It’s cold,” I snap at him.
“Alright, on your knees, Ivy,” he commands quietly.
