Page 37 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Can you sit in the back with me, Rory?” Willow asks, and I smile brighter. She’s really good for my ego.
“Sure thing, Bug,” I say, giving Breck a shrug that saysThere’s no saying no to her, is there?
I slip my boots over my dark jeans and pull my heavy puffer jacket on over the bright purple sweater I chose for today. It’s cut low in the front and hugs my body in a way that makes me feel flirty and sexy. It would appear Breck likes it too, from the way his eyes follow my zipper with rapt attention.
He clears his throat. “Ready to go?”
I grab his jacket from the hook and gently push it into his chest. “Yup.” I smirk at the look of surprise on his face. “Jamie grabbed them for us last night. Since we left, um, rather hastily.”
He looks down at my hands and his lips twitch. “Oh. Well, great. Thank you.”
There’s a thick tension in the air when we all pile into the Jeep. My attention is focused on Willow’s retelling of yesterday’s festivities, but Breck and I sharing the same space comes with desire and want that shouldn’t be here in the light of day.
The restaurant we’re meeting at for breakfast is nestled between the semi-frozen lake and a forest of deep-green pines. I’m desperate to capture the mountains in the distance, the blue of the lake, the clouds gliding low across the horizon. I wish I brought my camera, even though I know it would’ve led to more commentary from my parents.
We follow a hostess to a table in the far corner, away from other diners. Everyone else is already here and seated, and they turn our way as we approach. Breck takes a chair next to Wes, and Willow immediately takes the one next to Joss. So much for the idea of putting some space between us today. I slip my coat off and drop into my seat, carefully avoiding brushing my arm against Breck’s.
“No Jamie this morning, Rory?” Mom inquires from the other end of the table. At least I’m not sitting next to her or Dad.
I busy myself with my menu when I answer. “Nope. He swung by the condo early this morning to drop off my jacket”—I shoot a sidelong glance at Breck—“and he was still in last night’s clothes. I think he was headed home for a nap.”
“Well done, Jamie,” Wes jokes, eliciting laughs from everyone. Well, almost everyone. Mom’s huff of displeasure doesn’t fit in. When will she finally get it through her head that Jamie and I are never going to be a thing?
“What did you guys get up to after we left?” Jaz asks from across the table, and I school my features.Don’t blush, do not blush.Breck’s thigh presses against mine under the table, and I know I’ve lost the battle.
“Jamie dragged us to a bar to go dancing.” I play it off like it wasn’t really my idea. Breck’s thigh shifts. Does he know what he’s doing to me right now?
“Did you stay out until midnight for the fireworks? We caught some of the show from our room.” Wes yawns.
“Uh…” I look at Breck, feeling Joss watching me intently.
“Yeah,” Breck says. “There were definitely fireworks.”
He doesn’t look at me, but I hear the implication behind his words and hope no one else does.
“We passed out before they happened.” Jaz pouts, and Paul wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“Luckily we don’t have to wait long for the Australia Day fireworks over the bridge. I’ll make sure you have the best seat in the house,” he says, and Jaz smiles, sinking closer into his side.
“Will you guys be home by then?” Jaz asks Breck and Willow, and I hate the way my stomach drops. I don’t want to think about them leaving. It’s been hard enough with Wes on the other side of the world.
“I need to check our return flights, but they’re somewhere in that time frame.” Breck’s voice is tight. Maybe he isn’t ready to think about leaving just yet either.
“Rory, when do you start back to work?” Dad asks, and my shoulders sag. Even with everything else going on and a dozen more interesting topics at his disposal, this is what he chooses?
“Monday. I took this whole week off.” I was off last week too, not wanting to miss a minute with Wes and Joss.
“Do you really need the whole week? Wes and Joss leave this afternoon,” Dad says, eyebrows pulling down into his typical disappointed scowl.
“Dad, she deserves a break. She never takes vacation,” Wes interjects.
“Is it really a vacation when she’s just sitting at home? Why not go to work if she’s going to be here anyway,” Mom adds, teaming up with Dad—just like I knew she would.
“Just because you guys never take a day off doesn’t mean that’s how everyone wants to live their lives,” Wes shoots back, and Mom stiffens. It’s rare anyone talks back to her, but he is not having it this morning. I don’t know what words they exchanged yesterday after I left dinner, but Wes is unusually prickly toward our parents today.
“As long as she isn’t filling her time with silly elopements and photography dreams.” Mom’s voice drips with disdain. “She knows better than that. She’s smarter than that.”
It’s like a slap to the face. It’s nothing new, and I shouldn’t be shocked, but…
