Page 52 of Fresh Tracks
She owns me and she doesn’t even realize just how much she does.
Somehow,I can’t make a decision again. It seems to be a recurring theme for me lately. I spent the morning at the gym downtown trying to burn off some pent up energy and work on my clearly lacking stamina. Now, I’m sitting in the locker room staring at my phone.
Should I call her? Should I text her? I said we can talk and she said that’d be good, but is that coming on too strong? I tried to find her this morning, but her van was gone before the sun came up. If I had to guess, she’s probably out skiing. Either way, I have no fucking clue how to talk to a woman now, much less a wild one like Grace.
With one hand, I run my fingers through my damp hair, and in my other, my thumb hovers over her contact info when my phone buzzes.
My pulse quickens, hoping it’s her and she made my decision for me, but that hope quickly fades when I see my brother’s name scroll across the screen.
I click answer and bring it to my ear. “Yes?”
A single laugh comes through the phone. “Is that how you greet your favorite brother?”
I shake my head, a grin spreading across my face. “My only brother, so my favorite and least favorite. What’s up?”
“Not too much. I was taking care of sending out the last of the donations to the organizations Grace recommended,” he says matter of factly.
A moment passes, but he doesn’t say anything else so I guessI’m doing the conversational lifting on this call that he started. “So why are you calling me?”
“Did you know we used to give to Wasatch Wishes?” he asks bluntly.
It takes a second for my brain to register that name as the organization Grace used to work for.
“No, I didn’t. And what do you mean used to?” I emphasize those last two words, my tone taking on a serious note. “When did we stop? Why did we stop?” My mind races, wondering why he’s asking this and if we screwed something up.
“Woah. Slow down there, bud. I don’t think it’s a huge deal, but if you want to look into it, Grace has everything you’ll need.”
“No,” I cut him off. “Just send everything to me. Is that it?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll send it right over. You alright? You sound a little out of it.”
I sigh and palm my face before grabbing my shirt from my gym bag. “I’m fine. Just finishing up at the gym and didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll be fine when I see you at the party this week though. Don’t worry.”
“Good,” he says, his tone more upbeat, “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind and planned to bail at the last minute.”
“Great. I need to get back to the house. See you soon.”
I hear him laughing on the other end when I hang up and put my phone away. Maybe some time back in Seattle will be good for me. Jake always seems to ground me and that’s just what I need right now. I do need to talk to Grace, possibly about more than just whatever is going on between us. But that can wait until she gets back to the house.
CHAPTER 21
GRACE
BACKCOUNTRY BUNNI
“Are you ok back there?”Josie calls over her shoulder, hiking up the steep trail toward Cody Peak — just outside the ski resort in Jackson.
“Yeah,” I bark out from behind her, always surprised at the pace she keeps with her short legs while hiking with a full ski pack on her back. Going uphill on skis, even with climbing skins covering the bottoms, is always exhausting. “Just a little tired. Didn’t get much sleep. Stop at that outcropping ahead. That’s the end of our trail.”
I should be much more rested and I’m glad this hike is almost over. I got a nice relaxing shower and slept in my warm bed, all after hearing TJ finally confess that he wants me. His confession was enough to make myself come so hard I needed to catch my breath on the cool tile floor of the guesthouse. Something about hearing him panting into the phone, already knowing how his breath feels like on my skin, completely undid me.
So even after all of that, I still woke up restless and needing to blow off steam. This hike with Josie is exactly what I needed, even if my body is saying otherwise. I’ve made this hike countless times over the years, starting as a teen with my family. Ourparents, but especially Mom, always loved teaching us the finer points of backcountry skiing. It was her way of teaching us to connect to nature and know how much joy it can bring, but also how insignificant we are in comparison to these timeless mountains and Mother Nature. She made sure we were always prepared: having our hike up mapped out, our ski path planned to get down the mountain safely, knowing the snow conditions and avalanche risk and making sure we had our safety gear. We learned to always have a buddy in case anything bad happened, close but not too close though. Staying spread apart in case of an avalanche meant there might be someone there to help dig you out to save your life.
Even though they taught all of us, it was still my special thing to do with Mom. Tanner was always into extreme skiing on big cliffs and crazy runs. Clay was qualifying for the Olympics, training with Dad and then the Jensen family. Mom and I though, we spent so many mornings hiking up at dawn, catching our breath at the summit, then skiing completely fresh lines down the mountains, untracked by anyone else.Earn your turnsas she would say. Sure we could ski in the resort and take a chairlift up, but this is just different. Even after we moved to Utah, we kept doing it in the Wasatch Mountains, bonding over exploring a place new to both of us.
Yes, backcountry skiing has always been therapeutic. And today, I want to make sure my head is clear before I talk to TJ after last night. Not that Josie is going to be any help with that. She’s keeping a pace up that has my heart pounding in my chest so hard I can feel it against the straps of my avalanche beacon under my jacket.
Finally reaching the crest of the trail, I take the moment to shed my pack, sit down in the snow and take a long gulp from my hydration pack. From here, I can see the entire Jackson Hole valley below us. The town, the ski village, I can even make outmy brother’s cabin — every place I’ve known for years. Somehow, I find myself looking down into the woods on the outskirts of the ski resort village, looking for a certain rockstar’s house, wondering what he’s doing right now.
