Page 38 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“That’s enough. Please stop. You’re ruining our breakfast.” Wes glances at Joss, whose eyes are on me, full of concern.
She mouths,I’m sorry, as if this is somehow her fault.
Mom sits back in her chair, shoulders squared and lips tight. “My apologies,” my dad starts. “I didn’t realize the question would cause such a stir.” Condescending, infuriating man. “Are you two ready for your honeymoon? I’m sure New Zealand will be wonderful this time of year.”
The conversation falls back to a normal rhythm, though a bit more formal and awkward than before. I just sit quietly, ruminating over Mom’s words.
She’s smarter than that.
Smarter than what? Smarter than to do what I want with my own life? I guess so, since I never have. I stare blankly at myplate, not listening to the words flowing around me. It’s like I’m sitting in a little sound-proof bubble, invisible and unnecessary to anything happening right now.
The bubble bursts when a hand finds mine—balled into a fist, fingernails nearly puncturing my palm—under the table. This one is strong, masculine. I glance to my right and find Breck staring down at me. There’s concern etched into his features as he tilts his head, a silent question.
Are you okay?
An infinitesimal shake of my head is all I can muster, but I know he sees it because he squeezes my hand. I can’t sit here anymore. As casually as I can, I place my napkin on the table and excuse myself. I go to the bathroom, but even after washing my hands with hot water for a full two minutes, I still don’t want to go back out there. I settle for pacing up and down the corridor instead. At least I can get my steps in.
Breck doesn’t say anything when he finds me, just lets me walk it off.
“They’re always like that, yeah?” he asks, and there’s no judgment. He’s giving me an opening.
“Yeah. Pretty much. With me at least. Wes can do no wrong in their eyes.” I look up and backpedal. “Well, it’s more like Wes was always going to do what he wanted, and they were always too busy to get involved. Wes wants to go to college in San Diego? Sure. He wants to spend his last two years of college in Sydney? Sure. He wants to join the Navy and fly fighter jets? Of course.”
I bite my cheek and shrug. “I never got that lax attitude. Never got to apply to that out-of-state school. Big no to majoring in photojournalism and becoming a travel photographer.” I smile, but it’s tired. “So what did I do? I got a job—one that uses my degree, pays me well, and has one of their friends as my boss. And it’sstillnot good enough. I should be writing for apublication, using my degree ‘for real.’ It never mattered what Wes did, so long as he was doing something. But what I’ve done has never been enough.”
I slump against the wall, defeated. Breck’s footfalls bring him to the space next to me, and I’m grateful not to be alone, even though I’m already reeling at how much I just shared. Of all people, he doesn’t need my crap laid at his feet. My problems must seem so trivial to him.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining about this to you. I’m fine, really, let’s go back.” I push off the wall, but his hands grasp my waist and pull me back to him. “Breck… What… What’re you doing?”
“Taking your mind off your shitty parents.” He threads one hand in my hair and pulls me closer, feathering his lips against mine. It’s not a kiss. It’s a tease—like they aren’tright there.
“Someone could see us,” I say, keeping my lips a hair’s breadth from his.
“So I only have a minute then.” He runs his nose along my jaw until it’s right under my ear. “Is the distraction working?”
“Yea—yes.” I stumble over the words, unable to believe this is happening. Last night felt like a fluke, a stupid mistake after too much tequila—but this? This feels intentional and so,sogood.
“If we only get a minute, will you kiss me?” My voice shakes and Breck inhales against my neck.
“You smell so good. How do you smell so good?”
I laugh under my breath, my chest moving against his. I’ll be damned if I admit to putting on this perfume because I thought he might like it.
“A laugh. Good, my plan is working.” He watches me, eyes intent on my face, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
I’m still wondering if he’s going to kiss me.Reallykiss me. Kiss me like he did last night. Like a man starved, searching forsomething he’s been without for far too long. Instead, he just draws a thumb over my lips.
“Still want that kiss?” he asks, holding my gaze.
I nod once, and in the second between that nod and his movement to close the distance, voices carry to us from just beyond the hallway. I jump back like there’s a snake at my feet and nearly collide with the wall behind me.
“Hey, guys,” Joss says.
“Hey,” Breck and I say in unison.Smooth.
“Everything okay?” Wes looks from Breck to me.
“Yup. Was just coming back,” I say, walking down the hall toward them, away from Breck who’s leaning oh-so-casually against the wall. I squeeze Wes’s shoulder as I pass, but before I turn the corner, I flick my eyes to Breck only to find him watching me as well, a small smile on his lips.
