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I wanted to make up for that. I wanted to make up for so many things with Lis.
“I don’t know, babe,” I concede. “I’m kinda thinking on the fly here. After what we saw today.”
“Well, I think you’re right,” she says, her eyes wide as she props herself up again. “And I think we need to tell the lawyer too.”
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her so she lies fully on top of me. As much as I know everything she is saying is right, having thought all of the same things on the drive over here, I don’t want to talk about it right now.
This weekend is supposed to be about us, and I’m not going to let anything ruin that.
“Lis, babe,” I whisper, leaning up to give her a quick kiss. “I love you, I really do, you know that. I promise I’m going to fix this. But right now.” I pause, my hands sliding down to her ass, gripping it hard as I rub her against me. My dick is already hard, never able to get enough of this woman.
“Right now?” she says, smirking as she sits up so she’s straddling my hips, knowing exactly what I’m changing the subject to.
My hands move to her thighs, sliding higher as my fingers glide over her tiny belly before finding her breasts, teasing her nipples. I already know being pregnant, she’s like a million times more sensitive than normal and I fucking love it. Love how responsive she is to my touch.
“Right now,” I repeat, gently pinching her nipples and loving the gasp she lets out, the way her head falls back a little, her long brown hair hanging loose over her shoulders. I sit up, my mouth finding hers in a deep kiss, my hands moving back to her ass as I rub her against me, reminding her of what this weekend is really about. “Right now,” I say again, my words low, my lips against hers. “I really want to enjoy my honeymoon with my wife.”
Lis smiles against my mouth, her arms around my neck as she shuffles her hips, the tip of my dick sliding inside her. “I really like the sound of that,” she murmurs, before shifting so I’m fully inside her, not thinking about anything else now except how fucking amazing it feels.
22
ELISSA
The weekend with Nick goes by in a blink and before I know it, I’m back in Badger Creek, sitting at my desk in my little office in the ski lodge. It’s early, the best time to get work done before the mountain opens. With no one to bother me and without complaints from tourists, I can crank through the work I missed while I was gone.
The problem is my focus is shit. I can’t stop thinking about Nick and his teammate that was hurt while we were there. It was an absolute nightmare watching him be carted off on a stretcher and put into the back of that ambulance, and even though we weren’t there much longer, it’s burned into my brain.
All of that could easily happen to Nick with him jumping on a knee that isn’t fully healed. I have zero trust in the team doctor or Nick’s coach to protect him, but that puts Nick into a situation neither of us want to deal with.
He will have to argue his reasons for not jumping. His coach will disagree, and the doctor will say he’s been cleared. All of this will result in the coach aggressively reminding Nick he’s under contract, and he will owe a hell of a lot of money if he’s not out there.
But at this point, it’s a risk Nick and I are willing to take. We have to protect his health and his life from ending up like his teammate.
Before I left, Nick scheduled an appointment with his surgeon, but that’s not something that will happen immediately. His surgeon isn’t available to meet with him for two weeks, but he did send an order for an MRI, so he has that ready when they do meet.
It’s something.
But again, it doesn’t solve the problem, and right now, I’m sure Nick is out on the platform with his coach barking orders at him to jump. I don’t know how else he would get around it. It is what it is, and I hate that.
I begin to approve the staffs’ hours from the last two weeks, verifying with the schedule and the computer system. It’s a long process and as I go through each staff member, I find my mind wandering. I can’t stop picturing the fall.
I’ve been a skier since I was six years old, and I’ve seen some nasty falls, especially as a downhill racer, but I’ve never seen anything like I saw over the weekend.
While I was never a jumper, I was around enough of them to know what causes a fall like that. It’s not just that the jump was difficult; it’s more than that.
To lose the ground and come apart in the air like that is from lack of skill, which isn’t even possible in this situation. The guy made the damn US team. His skills on the slopes are in the top one percent of the world.
It could be caused by anxiety or fear, but again, that rarely happens to professionals. I would hope Nick’s teammates would have noticed the change in their friend and said something, but who knows. The bigger issue, the one I can’t get out of my head, is that a fall like that, the way he wasn’t able to focus in the air, is almost always caused by a head injury.
I can only speculate, and it’s nothing I said out loud to Nick because it is all hitting too close to home. A fall while jumping or skiing can lead to a traumatic brain injury, or worse a spinal cord injury, both things that can change someone’s life permanently.
I let my head drop into my hands, trying to shake off the thoughts, but they just won’t leave. I can picture Nick on that platform, waiting to jump, his coach fired up. I can see his knee giving out on a landing and his body tumbling, possibly crashing into a barrier.
“Fuck,” I mutter, tears filling my eyes.
A soft knock comes on my door, and before I can say come in, Zoey walks through the doorway. There’s a smile on her face and her long blonde hair is braided and hanging over one shoulder. She’s really driving home the point that Sammie thinks she looks like a character from her favorite movie.
“Hey,” she says, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from me. “How was your visit with Nick? How’s he doing?”
