Carry Your Heart (21 page)

Filming
, he texts a few minutes later with a heart.
Miss you.

I miss him. Too much.

Without Hunter and with Lottie’s chilly silence, there’s nothing to do except focus on the runs and the training. There’s nothing I can do but hope I might have a text message with more than just a few words on it, or a voicemail that’s more than Hunter’s deep voice saying,
hey
,
babe
, like I don’t have a name,
gimme a call when you get this.

I swallow back my impatience and focus my frustration on skiing. Focus everything on skiing. I have two interested sponsors. If I perform well in my next races, it could change everything.

That’s all that matters. Taking pressure of my dad. Making it work. Breaking through. And it starts to work. It starts paying off. I start hitting bigger turns. I start putting up lower numbers on the downhill runs every day. And underneath all of the success is a space in my heart waiting for Hunter to come back.

I’m getting faster. And I’m missing Hunter. But I’m getting faster. And I try to let the fastness hold me over until Hunter returns.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The night before a race at Alta, I eat dinner with Mike, alone, without Lottie.

“You’re going to have to get serious,” he tells me. He looks my right in the eye. “You’re on the cusp of a big year, but you need to push yourself.”

“I know,” I tell him.

He looks at me warily, like he doesn’t quite believe me. “Whatever happened at Lake Placid? That scene with Joe?”

I don’t say anything, swallowing down a tide that’s equal parts rage and humiliation.

“That can’t happen again.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“Whoever caused that can’t be a part of your life. You’ve got to commit yourself to this.”

I nod. “Are you talking about Hunter or are you talking about Danny?”

He exhales. “Pippa.”

“Well, I want to know. Because what happened at Lake Placid was about Danny. And there’s not a whole lot I can do about it. He was my boyfriend and he died. Do you want me to retroactively break up with him? Because you’re not going to like what I have to say to you if that’s the case.”

“Is Hunter Dawson really the best person to be spending time with right now?” asks Mike softly.

“I told you this isn’t about Hunter. You know he thinks you’re his friend?”

“I am his friend. But I’m also your coach,” he says seriously. “And Hunter, honestly, has the attention span of a honey bee and you—you’re trying to make the Olympics. And you’ve had a rough time already. I’m sorry, but all I can see is all of the bad ways this relationship could end.”

I sip my Gatorade and eat my pasta and try not to murder Mike. Tomorrow should be an easy race. I should win. It would be disappointing not to, at least in downhill. “I’m thinking I should just specialize in downhill for a while.”

He cocks his head. “Not a bad idea and that might keep you and Lottie both happy.”

“I’m fine the way things are.”

Mike rolls his eyes.

I walk back from the center to the lodge, my arms wrapped tightly around my body, shivering. I can’t take much more of this. Pressure and loneliness. Something
has
to give.

***

I open the door to my bedroom and scream.

Hunter laughs, gathering me in his arms, as I recover from what felt like a coronary.

“You are
so
not supposed to be here.”

“I left early.”

“Why?”

“Because fuck Red Bull,” he mutters, his arms around my waist. We’re on the bed before I can catch my breath, and say any of the things I’ve wanted to say.
It is so much better to have him like this.

His mouth his hungry and warm against mine. His hands relearn the canvas of my body. He strips my clothes off, without looking at them. His eyes stay on mine the whole time he undresses me. His hands run all over me. He whispers my name in my ear over and over.

His kiss is electricity. It lights me up. I feel it buzz in my body. He holds my hands over my head and he looks deeply into my eyes. And I know that the sex has changed. That he’s telling me how much he missed me, this time. And it’s amazing.

***

Afterwards, we lay tangled in the sheets, damp and looking at each other, like it’s the first time we’ve seen one another.

“Hey,” he whispers after a while.

“Hey.”

“So, you turned into some big shot while I was gone, huh?”

“Not really.”

“I heard differently,” he says. He rolls over onto me, one of his favorite things to do. He braces himself on his hands, so I only feel a bit some of his weight.

“Hunter,” I hear myself saying softly.

“Yeah, babe.”

“I really missed you.”

He laughs. “Good, I really missed you too. Europe fucking sucks when you’re not single.” He yawns. “You know how many drunk girls I had to disappoint?”

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Dozens.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Again?”

I roll my eyes.

He smiles. “I think I’m getting too old to make those videos anyways, my whole freaking body feels like I’ve gone through a washing machine.”

“That is
quite
the analogy.”

“It does,” he says. “I have bruises in places I didn’t think could bruise. They kept trying to get me to jump out of a helicopter and drop in and I kept telling them how much my fucking ankles hurt. They were totally not having it. Red Bull does not give you wings. Or ankle support.”

I laugh.

“I feel like an old man.”

I arch my neck up a bit to kiss him and his hand is rough on my cheek, but he’s holding me gently, paying attention to everything.
This man knows what he’s doing
, I think to myself again.

And I think that for a long time before I drift off to sleep in his strong arms.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I wake up to the sound of knocking. Loud, insistent,
the lodge is on fire
kind of knocking.

And even though, I’m sure it’s urgent, I take a moment in Hunter’s arms. He’s
here
. He’s
real
. He’s
back
.

“Pippa! Open up!” someone barks.

I pull a shirt on, find shorts and walk, sleepy and disheveled and worried to the door.

Mike barges in the second I open it. “Pippa, you’ve got seven fucking minutes to get over to Alta. Are you fucking serious right now?”

Hunter sits up in bed, startled. He glances at me and then at Mike. “Hey, Ames,” he says. He slips on his boxers. “What’s going…”

“Are you going to get ready or do I have to withdraw you from the race?” he yells.

“Let me get ready,” I say. Alta’s a five-minute drive, no more, but the race starts in nine minutes. Mike, looking disgusted, leaves the room and Hunter, still confused, slumps back and puts his hands over his eyes.

“What is he talking about?” Hunter asks me.

“I have a race. I forgot to set my fucking alarm because you…” I stop myself.
This is not Hunter’s fault.
I manage the thought even as I scramble for a sports bra and a shirt and slam my feet into my ski boots.
This is not Hunter’s fault. This is your fault.
I stop by the bed and drop a kiss on his cheek. “Gotta go.”

“K, babe,” he mumbles, grabbing the covers and turning over on his side.

Mike’s waiting in the hallway, arms crossed like an army sergeant.

“Do you have my skis?” I mutter breathlessly, closing the door behind me.

“Yes,” Mike hisses, closing the door behind me. “Honestly. What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m sorry. I forgot to set my alarm.”

“You can’t afford to do shit like this, Pippa. You want to know the one way to get everyone to forget you won Lake Placid?
Lose a race so small that nobody bothers to enter it.
”

“I’m not going to lose.”

“Well, you’re not going to win if we don’t make it there in time, either.”

***

We speed over to Alta, in silence. Mike’s anger is of the cold and deadly variety. I know that it takes a long time to thaw him out and I don’t bother trying right now. I already know exactly what he’ll say.
I don’t want you to be sorry; I want you to stop fucking up.

I scramble from the van to the first lift, where I snag a ride with snow patrol up to the race’s starting line. Breathless and a mess, I get my skis on with little time to spare.

By the time Mike parks the van, the race is over and I’ve finished third. Not terrible—at least, it wouldn’t have been terrible last week. This week I lost to Lottie and some eighteen year old just cutting her teeth in adult competition.

I can’t even look him in the eye, and he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me.

Lottie’s happy.
Lottie is so fucking happy.

“Where were you this morning?” she asks.

“I overslept,” I say. “Forgot to set an alarm.”

“
Seriously?
”

I close my eyes. Just
don’t.

The smirk on her face is insufferable. But I feel like I deserve it.

***

Hunter’s playing video games in his room, when I get back. Frustrated and feeling useless, I go to him and kiss his cheek.

He wraps his legs around me and pulls me into his lap, trying to teach me how to hold the controller.

“Joe’s coming over,” he says softly. He kisses my hairline. “How was the race?”

“Terrible.”

He bites his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more of a help this morning.”

“Not your fault.”

He nibbles my ear. “Still sorry. What place?”

“Third.”

He winces.
I never finish third. I finish first, or I don’t finish at all.
He had said that at the bar. And it was true.

I could never say anything like that. I could never be good enough at anything to go all or nothing every single time.

“Shane wants to hang out again,” he says. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

He tucks me under his chin. “What did Ames say?”

“Nothing.” I chew on the knotted rope of my hooded sweatshirt. “He was pissed. You know how he gets.”

“I don’t know. I’m not good with coaches. I don’t know how he gets,” Hunter yawns and shifts me. “He better not be an asshole to you.”

“He’s not. You know him.”

“I guess.”

“How do you two know each other anyways?”

Hunter sighs. “He used to coach boys. When I was a kid.” He shrugs. “My dad hired him. I gave him a pretty hard time, actually. So, did my dad.” He kills a zombie on the TV screen, twisting his body and taking me with him. “Used to spend the night at his apartment all the time when I was afraid to go home.”

I can’t imagine Hunter being afraid of anything. But, maybe whatever he faced as a kid was frightening enough that the mountains aren’t shit anymore. “I gotta get him away from Shane.”

“Your dad?”

He nods. “He doesn’t drink like he used to. My dad, I mean. But, yeah. Ames figured out what was going on last year. Told me to come down here. Train alone or a change.”

“What was going on last year?”

“Deirdre and my dad divorcing. They had this big custody battle over Shane. I don’t think either of them is any good, but Deirdre wouldn’t hit him. Kept having to fly back and forth to go to the mediation, tell the judge that my dad hit me. It was pretty miserable. My coach at the time was a dick. I didn’t want to tell anyone where I was going and he didn’t think I had any right to do anything but train…I fired him at the X-Games. Not because I lost…everyone thinks I fired him because I lost…I just needed someone to listen to me.

“They got everything hammered out eventually,” he continues. “But you know how kids are. Shane thought he’d ruined their marriage and, I don’t know, he’s so serious for a little kid. I just wanted to be closer to him. Wanted to tell him he was being crazy when he started wondering what had happened between Deirdre and our dad. He has no idea about the affairs, or…” He glances down at me. “Sorry. Do you want to talk about your race?”

“No. Absolutely fucking not.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I once showed up to a competition drunk. I forgot how the course went and did the wrong trick off the short jump.”

“How is supposed to make me feel better?”

“Well. I lost two back teeth. Let me see your teeth.”

I smile at him. He taps the two front ones with his index finger and a grin. ‘”These appear to be the real deal. I’m impressed.”

“Do you have fake ones?”

“Yep.” He smiles. “I feel like you should have felt that by now. I’ve bitten you enough.”

“What? You think I can tell the difference? Where?”

He opens his mouth wide and I peer in curiously.

“Is playing dentist the new playing doctor?”

Hunter starts and I fall over into him. I look up, hair falling in my eyes, to see Joe.

His eyes settle on me seriously and Hunter chuckles. “No. Just showing her my fake teeth, man.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, well,” he sits us both up. “This girl can’t play Halo.”

“How the hell do you know whether or not I can play Halo?”

“Can you play Halo?”

“No. But you don’t need to make sexist assumptions.”

He rolls his eyes. “You hear about Placid?” Hunter asks Joe casually.

Joe looks startled and uncertain for a moment, like Hunter’s going to get into the whole engagement thing with him. “I was there…”

“She did pretty good, huh?”

“Oh—oh, yeah. That’s right. She beat Mangold.” He smiles. “I didn’t get to congratulate you. You must be psyched.”

“I
was
pretty psyched. I finished third at Alta today, so I’m sort of over it now, but…” I shrug. “Yeah, it was exciting.”

Joe lifts his shoulders to his ears, eager to latch onto a subject change. “That sucks. How was Europe, Hunt?”

“Icy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Frustrating as hell. We got some good runs in, but my body is
shot
. I’m not doing anything extreme until the X-Games.”

Joe nods. “You feel old?”