“Pretty sweet gift from your therapist.” Trip sat up. “I tried to grill her a bit, but she didn’t say much. Something you want to tell me?”
Grey shook his head as he walked over to the skis and tested the flex again. “I don’t understand.” He twirled back toward Trip. “Avery bought these? For me?”
“Bingo.” Trip turned down the television. “Seems you’ve been holding out on me.”
“No. I’m as shocked as you. Aside from the rainy day she drove me home, I’ve only seen her at the clinic. She’s very strict about the whole ethics thing.” For one minute, all the crap he’d been thinking about vanished, making room for a surge of hope and happiness.
Closing his eyes, he pictured her in that tent, imagined her debating the idea and defiantly grabbing these skis. For him. She’d done it for him, which made him feel like he’d just won a freestyle-skiing gold medal.
“Not so strict, it would seem.” Trip came and stood near Grey, retrieving a small envelope from his pocket. “Helluva great set of skis, though. She left you this note.”
Grey’s heart pounded harder as he withdrew the small notecard from its envelope, straining, as always, to read the loopy scrawl. Grey, I’ll do everything in my power to get you back on big-mountain terrain. I won’t give up as long as you don’t. Avery
He felt his nose tingle, so he coughed and stuffed the card back in the envelope before slipping it into his own pocket. She hadn’t made him a promise, but the skis proved she thought it possible.
Of course, he wanted to believe there was more behind this gift. That other feelings motivated her generosity. But that leap might only be wishful thinking. Wishful thinking that would probably result in heartache.
In either case, he couldn’t let her spend that kind of money on him. Even if they were becoming friends, it was too much. And he didn’t like the idea of her pity. “I can’t keep these.”
“You can’t return them. Final Sale means final.” Trip slapped Grey on the shoulder. “You two are quite a strange pair. This is going to be an interesting off-season, no doubt about it.”
Grey placed the skis against the wall before he walked back to his room and closed the door. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. Several minutes later, he dialed Avery.
“Hello,” she answered. Just the sound of her voice made his heart speed up again.
“You never told me you moonlighted for the Make-A-Wish Foundation.”
Her soft laugh made him wish she were sitting beside him so he could see her dimples.
“I guess you got my surprise.”
“I did, thanks.” He hesitated. “Much as I love them and appreciate your generosity, I can’t keep them, Bambi.”
“You have to keep them. I can’t take them back.”
“Then I’m going to have to repay you somehow. I don’t mean to step on your gesture, but I’m not comfortable being a charity case.”
“It’s not charity. If Andy hadn’t hit you, you’d have bought those skis today. I saw your face, read the worry written all over it. I bought them to keep you motivated. I bought them because it made me feel better, like I could make a small difference in this terrible situation my brother created. It’s the first time I’ve felt good in weeks. Please don’t take that away from me.”
He let her words sink in. “Then at least let me take you out to dinner as a thank-you.”
She fell silent on the other end of the line, causing his body to heat up with discomfort. “Grey, that’s very sweet, but I can’t date a patient.”
“Who said anything about a date?” he covered. “Surely you can share a friendly meal.”
“Oh.” She hesitated again. “I think, given all the circumstances, it’s best for now if we keep things more or less professional. If you want to show me your appreciation, just work hard and follow my instructions to the letter.”
“Okay. We’ll do it your way.” He couldn’t help but grin, despite being shot down. One of these days he would wrest that need for absolute control from her.
After they said good-bye, he tossed the phone aside, fell backward on his bed and rubbed his hands over his face. Week by week she’d been getting under his skin, chipping away at the wall he’d constructed years ago. The one he’d built to avoid the pain he’d suffered after losing Juliette. Lord knew it had been too long since he’d let his heart run wild. Just his luck Avery—the girl with so many complications—would be the trigger.
Lying there, he imagined what he would do if she were beside him. Grey had rarely been one to waste time fantasizing, but lately it was becoming a bad habit. Like all bad habits, he suspected it would probably end up biting him in the ass.
Chapter Seven
“Go on in. I’ll wait out here for Emma.” Avery patted Andy on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
He shot her a sideways glance, his sandy-colored hair flopping over his brows. “I couldn’t wait to leave high school. Can’t believe I’m back here now, about to air my dirty laundry to a bunch of teenagers who aren’t going to listen to me anyway.”
“You don’t know that. Even if you only get through to five of them, that’s five kids you’ll help save from trouble.” She hugged him. “Em and I will sit up front for moral support. Don’t forget, we need to zip out of there when you’re done so I can run you home and make it back to the clinic for my four-o’clock appointment.”
“I’ll meet you back here, then.” Andy kissed her forehead, then pushed open the glass door and disappeared.
After slumping onto a bench, Avery rubbed her hands together for warmth. She hadn’t sat there for a dozen years. Unlike Andy, she treasured her high school memories—the days when she, Em, and Kelsey wandered these halls. Honors classes, football games, passing notes. Carefree fun.
When she looked around to check for Emma, she noticed Grey crossing the street.
Accustomed to seeing him in his gym clothes, her pulse stuttered and her mouth fell open at the Overland-catalog-model look he sported. Faded jeans hung low on his hips. He’d raised the shearling collar of his rugged lambskin leather jacket to keep away the chill. Unusually brisk early May winds ruffled his overgrown hair. The square lines of his jaw emphasized his masculinity.
Perfection.
Well, almost. She couldn’t help notice the asymmetry of his gait. Concern about that problem took priority over questioning why he was at the school in the first place.
“Hey, Bambi.” The right side of his mouth lifted into a coy smile. “I’ve never seen a woman frown so hard when staring at my . . . hips.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She smirked to cover up the heat rising in her cheeks. Had she grown to like her ridiculous nickname, or was it simply the sound of his taunting, low voice that turned her on? “I’m staring at ‘your hips’ because you’re still compensating with your good leg.”
“Am not.” He squared his shoulders and tucked his thumbs in his pants’ pockets, drawing her attention once more to “his hips.”
“Are too.” Avery jerked her eyes up to his face then gestured in a circular motion with her hand. “Turn around and walk away from me over there, along the sidewalk. I want to see you from behind.”
A lazy grin crept across his face. “I bet you do.”
“On second thought, maybe there’s not enough room on the sidewalk for you and your ego.” She raised an eyebrow and made another circular sweep with her index finger. “Just go!”