Buried Alive Page 8

  I felt slightly hungover, with a throbbing head and dry mouth, as my dad lectured me about going back to school. He didn’t yell, but his ears turned red, which was a sign he was furious. I saw it a lot when we worked in the kitchen.

  Siena was right about one thing: I loved my parents, but it was better if we didn’t live under the same roof. I think deep down my mother felt the same. When I strolled out, my duffle on my shoulder, the lines in her face softened, as though with relief. They could go back to how it was before I returned. Comfortable. Safe. Nothing to threaten or judge how they’d lived for the past nine years.

  “I’m so excited you’re here!” Siena jumped up and hugged me when I made it to her apartment. It was above an old-fashioned ice cream parlor in the quaint town. The scents of waffle cones and vanilla wafted up from below. “I cleaned out the bedroom. I mean, some stuff is still in the closet and under the bed, but…” She looked at my single suitcase. “You don’t seem to have a lot.”

  “I appreciate this, Siena. It won’t be forever. Just until the holidays are over and I can decide what to do next.”

  “Stay as long as you want.” She clapped her hands together. “I love having you back. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone I can really hang out and gossip with. My father, being the owner of the hotel, tends to push people away from me as though I’m going to snitch on them or something. Please, you and I both know I’m the last person to tattle and the first to be the troublemaker.” She waved me into the apartment. It was perfectly designed with Siena’s eclectic style. A buttery yellow sofa faced toward the fireplace and windows, the quaint town and towering mountains in the distance. A bright teal zebra rug covered the wood floors; her mother’s old rocking chair sat next to the sofa. Colorful pillows and a mismatched table and lamps were all draped with clothing she probably took off and left right there. I walked into the living room and noticed the eat-in kitchen was directly to my right; coffee cups and takeout containers dotted the counters.

  “This will be your room.” She led me down the hallway. “You are the first bedroom, then the bathroom, then my bedroom.”

  “Perfect.” I stepped into “my” room, which was already set up with a bed, nightstand, and pictures of her family and friends on every surface.

  “I don’t cook, so if you use the oven, remember to take out my clothes.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. They do make great warmers for socks, sweaters, or pants but have caused many house fires. So…I’ll try to remember not to cook your favorite cashmere sweater for dinner.”

  “When you’re done unpacking, which should be in two minutes, let’s go out and celebrate. Oh, and I need to hear everything about saving Rhys from drowning. Your teasing text was not enough…I need a shitload more details. Did he say anything about the message I sent?”

  I groaned. “Never thanked you for that. Not embarrassing at all.”

  “You’re welcome.” She winked, getting my sarcasm but ignoring it. “Okay, settle in, then we’ll go to this new restaurant down the street for lunch.”

  I nodded, enjoying the peace when she closed the door. I put my clothes in the dresser. What was I doing? Ever since my grandmother passed, I felt as if I were bouncing around with no direction or reason.

  The first feeling of direction I’d had in years had brought me back here. The pull had been strong, purposeful. But now I was here, I felt as lost and confused.

  Why didn’t life come with directions?

  Chapter Twelve

  Rhys

  “Are you stupid? Seriously, should I check for brain damage?” Shaun’s arms flailed about, his face beet red. “I told you to call me. To not take a shower without me there.”

  Pulling down on the bar, I grunted, finishing my set. My muscles shook with slight fatigue. I was pushing my upper body hard to shake off a ton of excess energy that didn’t go away even after two times jerking off. The smell of her lingered in my room, stirring feelings of both anger and desire in me. The latter seemed to be winning out the more I was around her.

  My mind went around and around trying to figure out why she intrigued me so much, but I couldn’t nail down one thing. It was all of her. A mystery wrapped up in a tight little package. One I wanted to unwrap and discover.

  Had Carrie ever had a hold on me like this? The drama kept us coming back for more, as did the excitement of the press writing about us. If I were honest, she never captivated me. Not this way.

  “Rhys? Are you listening to me?” Shaun paced, his reflection shimmying in the mirror in front of me in the small gym.

  “Sure.” I grabbed the curl bar and started my reps.

  “You are so lucky you didn’t hurt your leg. But it was only by chance…you could have torn it.”

  I knew he simply needed to vent, get it all out. I shifted in and out of listening to his rant, getting the gist of it. When Shaun stopped by in the morning and found out what happened, he hit the roof. Then he called Dr. Morris to check my knee thoroughly. I stayed quiet, knowing I deserved whatever they had to say to me.

  Fortunately, my knee was fine; actually, she saw improvement. Spending an hour in icy water worked wonders, apparently. In spite of my fall, the doctor wanted me to start doing stretches and lightly working it out by the end of the week.

  “Shaun, relax. Take a walk.” I stared at him in the mirror. “You are seriously going to blow a gasket.”

  Shaun rubbed his bald head.

  “Go grab a coffee.” I wiped the sweat from my face with my T-shirt. “Get me one too.”

  A warning glare reflected back at me, like “don’t push your luck.” But he let his shoulders drop and walked out of the room.

  “Don’t forget—two sugars in mine,” I called after him. The door slammed, making me chuckle.

  Returning to my arm workout, the music fitted perfectly to my rep pace. Sweat trickled down my face and back, my shirt sticking to me. It felt good, pushing myself to the brink as I did on the slopes.

  “Well, well…look who’s here.” A man’s familiar voice with its Swedish accent said from the door, making my teeth grind.

  Even the sound of his voice irritated me.

  I didn’t stop the exercises but glanced at Jesper’s reflection. He was dressed in track pants, white tennis shoes, and a T-shirt with a Swedish flag on it. His slicked-back blond hair and smug face made me want to punch him. Why hadn’t I? I couldn’t think of one reason.

  Jesper Olsson was the perfect specimen of a prick. Our dislike for each other went back years. It had made headlines whenever we went up against each other, which happened a lot now. He had made a name for himself lately and loved to rub it in my face when the media favored him. His parents had moved from Sweden to the United States when he was three, becoming citizens. Even though he was raised in the US and trained in the US, he constantly loved to talk about his “homeland” and how much better they were at snowboarding and skiing. Knowing the asshole for a long time, I was aware how light his true accent was, but funny how it would thicken around women and reporters.

  “How’s the leg, man? Heard you really wrecked your knee.” Artificial concern tinted his statement, turning it more into a taunt.

  Ignore him. My arms rolled, pulling another bicep curl, trying to tune out his smug voice.

  He moved next to me, leaning against a machine. “What’s wrong, Rhys…not liking I might take something from you this time?”

  Oh, fuck. Here we go again. It always came back to this. I didn’t stop, huffing through the last five curls, trying to hide the quivering in my muscles.

  “Looking a little tired. Maybe it’s time for your nap.”

  It used to bother him that he was two years younger than me. Now he loved to toss it in my face, like it made him more superior, as if eighteen was so much more youthful and vigorous than twenty-one. I knew I could be a cocky ass, but he even topped me in that.

  “Are you here to work out your body or your mouth?” I dropped the weights with a loud clank. �
��Because your mouth is already overworked.”

  “That’s from the twins I had over last night.” He smacked his lips, making a humming sound.

  I rolled my eyes, rising carefully off the machine and hopping to the side. I needed to get away from this asswipe before I did something stupid. Again.

  “Still can’t stand on it, huh? Wow, and the finals are soon.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Jesper,” I growled. “Even injured, I still didn’t seem to have a problem beating your ass last time.”

  “By one point!” He took a step toward me.

  “One point more than you.” I straightened to my full height to loom over him.

  “Fuck you, Rhys. You think you’re some snowboarding god. That the press and the women are so dazzled they don’t see the truth. But most of us on the hill truly see you are nothing. You are using your brother’s reputation to get where you are. You couldn’t milk Jonah’s reputation any more if you tried.”

  Blistering rage colored my vision red. A snarl emerged from my chest, my hands rolling into fists. The pleased grin on his face only fueled my fire, lurching forward.

  “Rhys, stop!” A man yelled from the doorway, but my gaze was locked on the blond douchebag begging for a pounding. The deep wrath filled up my veins.

  “Jesper, get the fuck out.” Shaun stepped farther into the room, holding two coffees. “Now! Or I’ll have words with your coach.”

  Jesper glared at him then at me, but stalked out of the door, slamming it.

  Shaun stood in silence, his eyes watching me. I was overall pretty easygoing—unless you pushed me. Jesper knew how to push me and what buttons triggered me.

  “You know he’s trying to provoke you.”

  I bowed my head, pulling deep breaths through my nose. “I know.”

  “Then why do you let him?” Shaun set the coffees down on a bench. “It’s all bullshit. He wants you off your game. To get under your skin.”

  I swung my head all the way back and inhaled deeply again.

  “Rhys, you know you’re talented. You wouldn’t be in first place if you weren’t. This has nothing to do with your brother. Jesper knows this as well, and it’s why he goes for your Achilles heel. And you let him.”

  Because deep down, I feel those things about myself.

  I scrubbed at my face, needing to run and let out my anger. Instead, I grabbed my crutches against the wall, hobbling for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need some air. Gonna take a drive.” I moved quickly down the hallway, heading for the elevator.

  “Take my rental car,” Shaun said from behind, stopping me. I peered over my shoulder. He tossed me a set of keys. “Call if you need anything.”

  I nodded, pressing my lips together.

  He knew me well. He understood exactly where I was going.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hannah

  My stomach flipped and flopped around similar to a dying fish, the dishes on the cart banging together as I rolled up to the room. Stop it. There is no reason to be so nervous. Except there was. This was Rhys Axton. I should put a continent between us, but here I was, standing in front of his door with images of his naked body still dancing around my head like sugarplums.

  I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and knocked.

  “Come in.” With the sound of his deep voice, I closed my eyes and took a breath. I looked over my shoulder, wondering if I could still run for it. Instead, I opened the door and pulled the cart in with me.

  My gaze caught the empty bed and turned quickly to the two guys on the sofa. Shaun and Rhys took over the entire thing, watching ESPN, drinking beer, with their focus on the X Games. Rhys’s leg was raised on a stack of pillows, stretched across the sofa.

  “Dinner is served,” I spoke, drawing their attention. Shaun glanced at me but quickly returned to the TV, while Rhys lingered, his black eyes digging into me. He didn’t smile or say anything, an intensity building in his stare. Blood flushed up my neck into my cheeks, capturing my breath, as if his eyes really were touching me. Like he knew what thoughts had been revolving in my head for the past twenty-four hours. Helping him. Touching him. Laughing. And certainly seeing him naked had forged a deeper connection between us.

  “Three waters, Kobe burgers, fries, and one side of veggies.” I fiddled with the lids, the steam from the dishes dampening my face. I had no doubt the second meal was for Rhys. Guys his age could demolish large quantities of food, especially if they were in competitive sports.

  “I told you to get the chicken breast,” Shaun complained to Rhys, not taking his eyes off the screen.

  “Yeah, you did. I chose to ignore that part,” he responded. “Hey, I got the damn vegetables.”

  Shaun snorted. I’d bet it wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

  Rhys’s gaze still on me, I danced toward the door. “Have a good night.”

  “Stay,” he rumbled, the single word halting my steps.

  “What?”

  “Do you have any more deliveries tonight?”

  “No.” Why didn’t I lie?

  “Then stay.”

  Danger. Danger.

  “No.” The word automatically shot out, my defensive walls piling up. No way was I going to spend any more time with Rhys Axton. I had already seen enough of him, and those images burned a hole through my dreams last night. When I bolted awake, I was forced to finish where the dream left off.

  The humiliation of it still coursed through my veins. I tried to change the leading man, using celebrities, even my ex-boyfriend, but nothing worked except for him. My body responded with a deeper ache for the real thing.

  Sex had gone on the shelf after Matt moved out, and the loss of my grandmother only shut me down more. Maybe it was time to return to the days before Matt—no strings, no talking. However, it would have to be anyone but the guy before me. I needed to meet someone who would take over the face of my fantasies. To remove this pull to the black-eyed temptation.

  “Why?” Rhys lifted an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his mouth, like he could see past my rejection. The fantasy replayed in my head. The way his hand slid up my thigh, his tongue gliding over my sweaty skin, the ecstasy as my back arched, anticipating the feel of him in me.

  The lust felt so intense it had woken me up, my body aching with need. I tried to ignore it, to go back to sleep, but the desire turned painful, my hand skating down my stomach, pushing away my underwear, his face filling behind my closed eyes. I felt exposed. Bare.

  “I can’t.” I turned for the door. Run, Hannah.

  “I guess I’ll have to eat that extra burger then.”

  I halted, glancing over my shoulder at the cart then at Rhys. Mistake. His gaze was magnetic.

  “You ordered it for me?”

  He smirked. Shaun glanced over at Rhys, slight confusion on his face before facing the TV again.

  “Presumptuous.” I felt myself take a step back toward him. What are you doing, Hannah? Abort…do not engage. “What made you think I would have dinner with you?”

  “Not me. Shaun.” Shaun’s head jerked to Rhys at his name. “It’s been a long time for him since he’s been around a woman. Take pity on an old man. It won’t be long before the only women having dinner with him are the ones holding a bib and a spoon, feeding him the early bird special.”

  “Hey, asshole.” Shaun tossed a pillow at Rhys. “Guess who’s going to have to change my diaper?”

  A laugh burst out of me watching the two interact. You could feel the bond between them.

  “You like the X Games? It’s actually in San Diego right now.” Rhys dangled the fishing line over my head. I was that fish who knew it would mean the end but was so anxious for food I ignored the metal of the hook. Desperate for interaction, for warmth, I edged closer to it. Nibbling.

  “I do.” I took a tentative step toward the cart, peering down at the three meals. Leave. Go now.

  But I didn’t move. My hand reached
down for the plates, knowing I was making a conscious decision. A stupid one. Yet I still continued.

  He glanced over at me, his eyes glinting. “Now, sit your ass down and watch with us before Shaun gets his feelings hurt and starts crying into his beer.” He faced the TV again.

  That reasoning voice still screamed in my head. You’ve already stepped too far across the line. But it sounded farther and farther away. Against a rainfall of caution and smart advice from the wise voice in my brain, I couldn’t seem to actually leave.

  “Sit down or go, but stop prancing by the door,” Rhys said without looking at me.

  “I’m not prancing.” I bit my lower lip.

  “Then I’m a little scared. Should I call someone?” He glanced over his shoulder with a half grin.

  “Shut up.”

  “Come on, watch this guy, Hunter Harris, basically wipe everyone out.”

  Fuck it. It’s no big deal. Simply watching TV and having something to eat. I took a breath, making my decision. I grabbed the plates, handing each to the guys along with a bottle of water. Then I grabbed my burger and snuggled down on the floor, leaning back into the sofa, scooting closer to Shaun’s end. Rhys’s legs stretched out, taking up the majority of the couch, and even the feel of his legs behind me felt too close. It didn’t matter how far I moved from Rhys, I could feel him invading my space. It was as though his heat followed me, jumping and fluttering across my skin. With every bite of my burger, I felt highly aware of him. With every shift of his body I recalled the reflections of last night. The way I climaxed to his likeness.

  What the hell am I doing here?

  We ate, not talking much beyond remarking over the stunts and performances, cheering or jeering as the bikers flipped in the air. I’d gotten into watching these games in San Diego. The X Games and Supercross were always coming through town. Even though they were on bikes, their tricks and agility were similar to snowboarding. The sport drew me in from the moment I walked by a bunch of guys messing around on some ramps.