Lylah Herring was the fastest female skier in the world, but after a terrible crash at the World Cup left her in a hospital bed, she was lucky to be alive. Two years later, she's back and she's ready for redemption. The only thing on her mind is get...
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Once I got the go ahead from Hank, I got to work on the repair.Luckily, it would be an easy fix. The pilot light was out, which happened at my place all the time. Hank didn't have a long lighter, so instead he got me a box of matches. They were short, but they would have to do.
I slipped my shirt off and wrapped it around my hand for protection, and struck the match. Easing my hand into the opening, I lit the fuse and the heater fired right up. Easy as pie.
Blowing out the match triumphantly, I stood up and wiped the excess grease from my hands onto my t-shirt, wadding it up in my hands. I had a sweatshirt out at the table I could wear underneath my coat when we left.
"I think you're good to go." I grinned, standing up and blowing the match out triumphantly. "Those things go our all the time, but are pretty easy to light."
"You saved my ass." Hank sighed gratefully. "I have eight families checking in today and they would not be happy with no hot water. I owe you big time."
"Well, I'm here for a the a couple of weeks." I said. "Let me know if you have any more trouble; I'm happy to help."
Chimes on the front door alerted Hank to a new batch of guests arriving. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared to the front desk, and I wadded my shirt up, wiping the excess oil form my hands and face onto it. I could wear my sweatshirt underneath my jacket on the way back down the mountain.
"Ski school instructor and master plumber... Is there anything you can't do?"
At the sound of her voice, I turned around. Lylah was leaning against the door with a playful grin on her face, a glass of lemonade in one hand and the other resting on the door frame. It caught her off guard to find me shirtless, and a hint of embarrassment blanketed her cheeks. Back home, this was how I was dressed a majority of the time, but sometimes I forgot not everyone was used to the beach life.
Lylah did her best to hide it, but it was hard to ignore the way her gaze fell on my bare chest. She traced every tanned ridge of muscle I had and charted each line of my intricate tattoos, her racing so much that I could almost hear it. She was flustered, and the way her breath hitched was a dead giveaway. When our eyes finally locked, she knew she was caught and glanced away.
"What can I say?" I grabbed my sweatshirt and slipped it over my head, saving her from anymore discomfort. "I'm a jack of all trades."
"How about that drink?" She quickly handed me the glass of lemonade, and turned away, heading out into the lobby of the Inn.
I followed her out, trying to contain my smirk as she composed herself. Lylah was tough to crack, and I was getting some enjoyment out of making her squirm. I liked knowing I had such an effect on her, and she was even more adorable when she was unnerved.
"You know when I suggested a drink, I had something a little stronger in mind, but I'll take what I can get." I said.
"Thank you for helping him." She changed the subject. "Everything in this place is from the seventies and I keep trying to get him to replace it, but he doesn't listen."
"Change can be hard for some people, I get it." I shrugged. "He's a nice guy."
"He is." She smiled, eyes set on her grandfather across the room. He was kneeled down in front of two visiting children, offering them a strip of taffy from the candy store in town. "So you forgot to mention that you were Harry's roommate."
"I didn't realize that was relevant." I chuckled, leaning back against the desk. "Don't hold it against me, the college picked for us."
Lylah smiled. "Harry and I have been friends for years. I'm surprised we haven't run into each other before."
"Better late than never." I smirked. "Are you sure you don't have time for a drink later? We can swap wild Harry stories...."
"I'm going to make it an early night." She said.
"Dinner then? Everyone has to eat." I pressed. Every second I spent with Lylah, I was more and more intrigued by her, and judging by the deep blush still in her cheeks, she felt the same.
I knew this wasn't a good idea. She was off limits in so many ways, but it didn't matter. All I was focused on was spending some alone time with Lylah Herring and getting to know her better.
"Blake...." The way she said my name made it sound like a curse word. "I just can't. I'm sorry. It's not about you, believe me. I just...I can't afford to lose focus right now."
"I understand, and I respect that." I gave her a sympathetic smile. "But if you decide you need to get your mind off of things..." I grabbed a piece of paper off of the desk and scribbled my phone number on it. "Give me a call."
"Did you get the heater fixed?" Harry interrupted us.
"Yep. All set." I said, keeping my eyes on Lylah. She took the paper and tucked it safely in the pocket of her jacket. At least that was something.
"We better get going then I promised my aunt we'd stop by." Harry said.
"Thanks again, Blake." Lylah gave me a tight smile. "See you guys later."
"Bye, Lylah." I said.
"See ya, Ly!" Harry waved as she walked away.
Harry and I grabbed out things and headed back down the mountain. I was ready for a little fun tonight.
My ego was a little bruised since Lylah had rejected me twice now. I tried to tell myself that it really was only about her races, but I wasn't convinced. Did I imagine the way she looked at me earlier? Maybe a night out would soften me up a little bit because this was going to be a long week if I was going be pining over a girl who wanted nothing to do with me.
Harry and I met Kennedy at a bar at the base of the resort. It was crowded, and we had to fight our way through a crowd, but that was one of the perks of hanging out with Kennedy. Despite the long line to get in, the bouncer found a table for us immediately and we were seated.
The waitress came by and we ordered a round of drinks and appetizers.
"What did you guys do today?" Kennedy asked, scanning the food menu.
Harry looked at me expectantly as if he expected me to tell Kennedy that we spent part of it with her nemesis.
"Harry had a few work things to finish up, so I tagged along." I said. "What'd you do all day?"
"Meetings and fittings and all kinds of boring stuff." Ken rolled her eyes. "I'm having to do all the media because Princess Lylah can't be bothered."
"Give her a break, Ken." I took a sip out of my beer as I teased her. "Besides, you like all the attention anyway."
Kennedy completely ignored me. "It's ridiculous. I don't know why they don't make her do it like they do the rest of us."
"Maybe she's scared." I said, thinking back to the conversation I overheard earlier.
"Scared?" Kennedy looked at me as if I was an idiot.
"What?" I shrugged. "She had a big crash, Ken. That's got to be tough to come back from."
"She's full of herself, Blake. She's not doing it because she thinks she's above it."
"Okay, Lylah isn't full of herself and she's certainly not scared, she just doesn't like the media. And she's going to wipe the floor with you on Friday if you've got your mind on other things." Harry chuckled. "Now can we just talk about something else?"
Ken and Harry battled back and forth for a little bit longer, and we spent the rest of the night catching up and drinking. It was rare that Kennedy and I got to hang out, and even more rare that Harry and I did. We had a good enough time that I forgot all about Lylah's rejection, or at least was coming to terms with it.
There was a lot of tension between her and my sister, and whatever connection I felt with Lylah would be over long before it even got started.
