She’s limping. I don’t even think she realizes it. The idea of taking a family ski trip sounded so fun months ago. I hadn’t considered the state of Taylor’s physical readiness to actually ski. I don’t think she considered it either. It was an automaticyeswhen Cap brought it up, and when he started planning, our excitement only grew.
Now, watching my girl walk in ski boots and carry her skis and poles, her limp seems more pronounced and a lot more concerning.
I don’t want to hold her back. I don’t want to overreact, undermine her confidence she worked hard to repair right along with her body.
I also don’t want to underreact, chance a setback by injuring herself skiing too soon.
The doctor said it was up to her.
Frankie said she’s physically ready.
I say wait. We’ll have a hundred other chances to ski. But how fair is it for me to say she can’t ski and then go out and have a blast doing what I said she shouldn’t?
Damn, I just don’t know.
“Lan, are you coming?” Gabriel calls as he heads to the ski lift with Frankie.
“I’ll meet you.” I turn back to Taylor, finding her eyes already on me.
“I’m good, Dually. Go. Have fun. I’ll find you.” She looks so cute in her hat, all wrapped up in her ski pants and jacket, her cheeks already rosy.
“I don’t like leaving you.” We’ve gone round and round on this. I want to stick with her. She wants me to leave her to concentrate on skiing without being self-conscious under my ever-present watchful eye. I’d never judge her. And me not taking my eyes off her is not only about her safety. She’s hot as fuck in and out of clothes, but especially now all bundled up and adorable, she’s irresistible.
“I’m all grown up,Daddy. Go.” She pushes me the other direction.
Daddy? I know she’s teasing, but, damn, if I don’t want her to make me a daddy. I give in. I can’t be the reason she doesn’t try. “I love you. Be careful.”
“You too.” She turns, taking her glorious face and stunning body the other direction to catch the easier slopes. “Love you!” she throws over her shoulder right before she slips but catches herself.
Reluctantly, I make my way toward the lift Gabriel and Frankie took, all while looking over my shoulder until Taylor disappears from view.
My gut turns.
Am I making a mistake?
* * *
As soon as I’m alone, no longer able to feel Landry’s assessing gaze, I’m swarmed with uncertainty. Am I making a mistake? Am I confident or stubborn, unable to admit I’m not ready?
The doctor says I’m good to go. So does Frankie.
Then, why don’t Ifeelready?
Each step to the chairlift feels weighted. My leg aches, but no more than normal. I will say these darn ski boots are not comfortable. I have a custom pair at home, in Texas. I didn’t anticipate needing ski boots and skis in Vegas. Silly me.
If I survive today, maybe Dad can ship them to me.
As the lift ascends the mountain, I catch sight of Cap and Cam racing down the slope like idiots. Cam barely takes the lead on his snowboard. He never cared for two skis. He was always a good at both. Took to it right away. Our oldest brother, Drake, too, for that matter. I was slower in taking to it. Not because I couldn’t do it, more because I was good and I felt a sense of bravery that scared me.
I have no doubt if I were in the military or a police officer, I would get myself killed. I’d be overconfident in my abilities, make a stupid mistake, and get shot. Or worse, get the people around me killed. I was a reckless kid. So was Cam—that’s why his nickname is Rowdy. But somehow, he always managed to come out on top.
I did too, until Landry. That spring break my recklessness caught up with me. Though, I didn’t feel reckless. It felt perfect. He was perfect. Heisperfect for me—then, now, forever.
I glide off the lift and stop at the second-to-easiest hill, moving aside to allow those more eager than me to pass.
This hesitation isn’t me. And it’s pissing me off.
I don’t know if it’s physical discomfort that’s making me hesitate, or if my gauge of what’s reckless or not is broken since Beau.