“You don’t need to swear to make your point. I get it. But he’s just a regular guy who made a bad mistake. One he’s very sorry about, and one he’ll be paying for, too, probably with his freedom.”
“Truce.” Grey held up his hands to reveal two fresh lollipops, one of which he handed to her. She took his response as a sign he disliked conflict. He stuffed a lollipop in his self-conscious grin, and redirected the conversation. “So, you want these K2s?”
“Maybe.” She pulled at her ponytail, unwilling to let him think he’d made the decision for her.
“Stubborn girl. Bet you’d take them if I told you not to.” His tone rang with admiration instead of scorn.
Rather than confirm or deny his claim, she changed the subject. “So, what are you here looking for, anyway?”
“Considering picking up a bunch of cheap facemasks, gloves, and other stuff that gets ruined or lost easily.”
“No new skis? The prices are amazing.”
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Not in the budget this year.”
Of course not. Once again she’d shoved her foot in her mouth. “Well, if you were buying a new pair, which would you choose?”
Without hesitation, he beelined to a set of black skis, one of which had a red tip. “These beauties.” He lifted the Volkl V-Werks BMT 94s off the wall. “Light as air, full rocker, carbon center.” He whistled. “Even at half price they’re still over five hundred bucks. Right now it’d be a stupid waste of money I don’t have, especially since these are big-mountain skis, and no one can promise me I’ll be skiing in the backcountry again.” He set them back, staring longingly.
“Avery the woman” wanted to combat his worry, to make him the promise he wanted—needed—to hear. But “Avery the PT” could not make recovery promises she couldn’t absolutely keep.
Her increasing emotional attachment to Grey was exactly why that code of ethics existed. One major reason why she should not spend time holding his hand in parks, listening to him play piano in his apartment, or hanging around with him outside the clinic. Personal feelings compromised objectivity.
Knowing the difference between what she wanted to do and what she should do gave her the strength to say nothing, even though it gutted her.
As if sensing her discomfort, he sighed. “I’ve got to meet up with Trip. See you next week, Bambi.” He turned to go, then glanced over his shoulder. “Whatever you do, do not buy those K2s.” He winked before weaving through the open cardboard boxes and folding tables strewn throughout the tent.
She noticed him favoring one leg. Something else they needed to work on next week. Just before she lost sight of him, she spotted Kelsey approaching him. Another person Avery didn’t want to see hurt because of something developing between her and Grey.
After they’d disappeared, she stood there at a loss for a minute. She’d come today looking for a new pair of skis yet no longer wanted any, not even the K2s Grey had just tried to trick her into buying with his silly attempt at reverse psychology. She walked back to the Volkls he prized. Lifting them up, she gently slid her hand over them, almost as if she were massaging Grey’s leg instead of the smooth, lacquered surface of the ski.
Everything about her interactions with that man skirted ethical lines. Yet here she stood, once more pushing aside the tiny voice reminding her not to become personally involved with her patient. Some secret, unfamiliar, scary, wonderfully daring part of her flouted the rules where Grey was concerned.
Maybe she couldn’t make a promise about his recovery, but she could provide encouragement and incentive. Her financial concerns paled in comparison to the red-hot need to give him hope. Decision made, she unwrapped the sucker he’d given her, stuck it in her mouth, and smiled.
“You seem distracted.” Trip flung a pencil at Grey from across the desk.
“Sorry. You know I hate this spreadsheet shit.” Grey leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I’m frustrated.”
“Because of the numbers?” Trip leaned forward.
“No.” Grey clucked. “Well, partly. I’ve always hated paperwork, but the skiing part of this business made it tolerable. Being up on the mountain, stomping big air, working with clients. That’s what I love. Not this shit.”
“But you gotta do this stuff, Grey.”
“What if this is all I ever get to do from now on?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hung low. “Dammit, that’s depressing.”
“Don’t think that way. Attitude is half the battle. It’s only been a month since your surgery. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, but you’ll get there.”
“Meanwhile Andy Randall is walking around town, able-bodied.” Grey looked up at Trip. “I finally saw him today with Avery at the tent sales.”
“Awkward.” Trip sat back, crossing his legs at his ankles.
“I didn’t meet him. Only saw him from a distance. Waited until he took off before speaking with Avery.”
“Again I say, awkward.”
Grey shrugged. “Sometimes when I think about how he’s screwed up my life, I want to see him pay for it so bad. But she loves him. Not only has she said so, but I saw it in the way she looked at him, talked to him. She’s hurting over what’s happened, over how it’s affecting him, over how he’ll handle jail. And as much as I think he deserves whatever happens, I don’t like seeing her upset. And then, at the same time, I have to acknowledge the fact that I’m not the only one facing an uncertain future.”
“Don’t beat yourself up for feeling victimized. Sure, he’s looking at serious charges, but you didn’t cause his trouble. He brought that un himself.” Trip narrowed his eyes. “As for Avery, I know you’ve got a little crush on her, and I get it, but don’t get sidetracked.”
Grey waved his hand in the air. “I know what’s at stake. I just wish I had a crystal ball. If I knew I’d fully recover, I’d be a lot more patient and forgiving.”
“I’ve skied with some of the best athletes. The toughest guys. You’re one of them, Grey, so don’t get soft on me now. If anyone can overcome this injury, it’s you.”
Grey smiled. “Guess some part of all those cheerleaders you’ve seduced has rubbed off on you.”
Trip grinned, slow and easy. “Can you blame me for liking girls with spirit . . . and pom-poms?”
“On that note, I’m taking Shaman out for a walk.” Grey pushed out of the chair. “See you in a while.”
Normally his walks with Shaman cleared Grey’s head. Not today.
Today he kept focusing on how his knee ached from the dankness. How worried he was about his future. How pretty Avery looked in her pink fleece earlier. How impossible it was to see her and not want to stay close to her. How grateful he was that Andy had turned out to be her brother instead of her boyfriend.
When he and Shaman entered the apartment, Trip was lying on the sofa watching golf on television and drinking a beer.
Grey tossed his keys on the coffee table. “You locked up downstairs?”
“Yep.” Trip chugged another gulp.
“Any calls or new climbing tours booked?”
“Nope. But we had a visitor.” Trip shot a look toward the corner of the room, to where the Volkls Grey had admired earlier now sat propped against the wall.
He blinked. It had to have been Avery, but it couldn’t have been her. But it had to be. His heart thumped hard against his ribs.