I wait for her to say something, and when she doesn’t, I start to push some more. But before I can do more than open my mouth, the plane lurches a second time.
“We’ve run into some turbulence.” The captain’s voice sounds over the intercom system. “If everyone could fasten their seat belts, we’ll be dealing with a little bit of bumpiness for the next fifteen minutes or so.”
It’s the excuse Tansy needs to turn away from me—and our conversation. As I watch her walk away, I can’t help wondering about the secrets I can see lurking in her eyes. Wondering what put them there. And wondering why I care so much more than I should.
Chapter 10
Tansy
I’m exhausted. Completely, one hundred percent drained. Then again, flying thirteen hours will do that to a girl, especially when I spent most of the trip tense and uncomfortable and terrified of making an idiot of myself in front of Ash all over again.
Oh, I’ve done my best to let that night in his kitchen go. To pretend I hadn’t eagerly accepted an invitation he hadn’t meant in the slightest. But every time I talk to him, every time I so much as look at him, I feel like it’s there, hanging between us. Even though he’s gone out of his way to be nice—something I find more than a little suspicious considering our previous two meetings—I’m still mortified. I mean, seriously, how repulsive do I have to be for a twenty-one-year-old guy—one who is steadily working his way toward manwhore—to turn down no-strings-attached sex with me?
Pretty freaking repulsive, I think. Then again, that’s not exactly a news flash, is it?
Still, the flight is over, and so is the van ride to the resort. We’re finally here, in the heart of the Chilean Andes, and I am more than ready to get this show on the road. Or I will be, as soon as I’ve gotten some sleep.
Since this is my show, I take charge of getting everyone checked in, and then I take the elevator up to the suite Z insisted on for Timmy and his parents. He’d wanted them to have room to spread out, and now, as I watch Timmy’s parents unpacking his medication and getting settled, I can’t help agreeing with his decision. I have no idea how the bad boy of snowboarding got to be so sensitive, but I’m glad that he did.
Even if it means subjecting myself to eight days with Ash, it’s worth it just to see the way Timmy—sleepy, worn out and obviously in pain—is still beaming from the fact that he’s here. With Ash Lewis, Z Michaels, Luc Jennings and Cam Bradley. His mind is pretty much boggled and I don’t blame him. God knows, mine isn’t in much better of a state.
“When do we get to hit the slopes, Tansy?” he asks, his face eager as he pulls me down onto the sofa next to him.
I think longingly of my bed, but it wasn’t so long ago that I was eager for someone to talk to me, really talk to me, not about me or over me or around me. With that thought in mind, I shove the exhaustion down deep and smile at him. “After we all get about twenty hours of sleep,” I tell him, ruffling his hair.
He rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t want to waste time sleeping. Not when there’s so much to see.”
Again, I get it. Timmy doesn’t have much longer, we all know that, and though he’s exhausted from the trip, I can imagine just how impatient he must be to just do something. To do everything. I remember those days, too. Remember lying in the stupid hospital bed while my parents hovered around me and all I wanted—all I wanted—was to be free. To run down the halls. To dance in the parking lot. To just be without someone poking me or asking me if I was okay or looking at me like they expected me to keel over at any second.
But just because I empathize doesn’t mean I don’t know that he needs to rest. He’s pale, his face drawn, and he looks like the softest touch would send him toppling over. Not that I intend to say that to him, especially when his mom just got through saying something very similar.
“Personally, I agree with you,” I tell him with a grin. “But Ash is a total wimp. He needs to get his beauty sleep or he’ll be useless out on that mountain.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, it’s totally true. Did you not hear him whining to his brother? He wanted to hitch a ride up to his hotel room on Logan’s wheelchair.”
Timmy laughs at the image, exactly as I intend him to. “Fine,” he tells me after a minute. “I’ll sleep. But tomorrow I want to get out there!”
“Me, too. It’s going to be so much fun.”
“It’s going to be huge.”
“Bigger than huge.”
“You’re right. Epic.”
I shake my head. “Bigger than epic.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “There’s nothing bigger than epic.”
“Sure there is.”
“Oh, yeah? What?”
Oh, shit. Ummm … “Infinite. It’s going to be infinite.”
“Infinite?” Timmy repeats the word, and the way he says it—all soft corners and long drawn out syllables—makes me feel like he’s savoring it. “I like that. Infinite.”