Kiss Me (Townsend Legacy)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

T ania

“I can’t believe it,” Eve says, waving a red envelope in her hands. “Stasi, we’re going to the X Games!”

“Thank you, Tania.”

The next thing I know, she’s throwing her arms around me for a second time. The force is so unexpected that I stumble a bit and start to lean on the crutch under my right arm.

However, the brick wall behind me keeps me from falling.

It’s not a brick wall, though. It’s Taehyun, using his body behind mine to aid in maintaining my balance.

I throw him a grateful look over my shoulder. What’s odd is that he doesn’t remove his hands from around my waist. Not even when Eve pulls away from me.

“Eve, be careful. Remember Tania’s injured ankle,” her aunt, Riley, comments.

“I’m so sorry,” Eve gasps and apologizes.

Guilt spurs me to tell her it’s okay and that it’s no big deal.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for giving us the tickets you won.”

Turns out, that was the grand prize for winning this year’s gingerbread house competition. A trip to the upcoming X Games in a few weeks.

“Right?” Stasi says as she comes to stand next to Eve. “How ironic that the one person in the room who didn’t need tickets is the one who wins them?”

She laughs.

“And thanks, Uncle Taehyun, for giving up your ticket too so we could go together.” Stasi wraps her arm around Eve. “We’re going to have so much fun watching Tania win gold.”

My stomach tightens.

“That’s if her ankle heals in time,” Stasi corrects.

“It will. I just know it,” Eve speaks up before looking at me. “Don’t worry. My dad says you probably have the best trainers and physical therapists and staff working with you. You’ll be healed in no time.”

I clear my throat.

“That I do.” I hope like hell she doesn’t pick up on the wobbliness in my voice.

“I knew it. And when you win gold, can we get another autograph?”

“Stasi, that’s enough,” the girl’s mother says, coming up between the two girls. “Why don’t we let Taehyun and Tania rest while we clean up?”

She nods at us, smiling before steering the girls back toward the room we’ve just exited.

The rest of the family began to disperse about a half an hour ago to head to their respective cabins. That’s when I convinced Taehyun to give our tickets to Eve and Stasi, who both are fans of the X Games.

It’s not until we’re alone again that Taehyun slowly slides his hands from my waist as he comes around to stand in front of me.

“I still can’t believe you became that competitive and didn’t even know there was a prize involved.”

I snort. “You better believe it. There’s absolutely no point in entering a competition without giving it your all. Any competition,” I emphasize.

He chuckles, making something spark in the pit of my stomach. “I knew you were competitive … anyone who’s seen you on a board would know how competitive you are. But I didn’t realize it applied to gingerbread houses.”

“Gingerbread houses, pool, darts, Go! Fish and any other competitive game you can think of.”

“Go! Fish?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Damn straight.” I nod dramatically, making a few of my braids spill over my face.

Taehyun is the one to push them behind my ear. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want anything obstructing his view from my face. Then I realize how silly that sounds, and I push the thought away.

“It makes me wonder …” He trails off and a glint enters those shrewd eyes.

Before he can state his question or wonderings out loud, Liza interrupts us.

“Hey, do you need help getting back to our suite?” she asks, sounding slightly breathy.

Her sudden presence startles me. That’s when it occurs to me that it’s been a while since I last saw my assistant. When I manage to break eye contact with Taehyun to look over at her, my eyes widen in surprise.

Her cheeks have an unusual redness to them.

“A-Are you feeling okay?” I ask.

She juts her head back. “Me? Of course.” She scurries to my side. “How’s your ankle? Should I have some ice brought to the suite once we get back?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Taehyun intervenes. “I’ll help her get home.” His voice is so smooth yet authoritarian enough that even I don’t question him.

Not at first.

“You’ll help me?” I ask once my senses come back to me.

He slyly nods his head in the direction that leads to a hallway. I glance over to see the cute waiter from earlier. He’s standing in the doorway, but he’s not paying me or Taehyun any attention.

He’s staring directly at my assistant.

“My plans for Tania this evening aren’t finished just yet,” he says. “Why don’t you call it a night?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it’s not his job to boss my assistant around. But then I look over at her.

Liza’s staring in the direction of the hallway.

At the cute redhead who still can’t take his eyes off of her.

Was I so wrapped up in tonight’s gingerbread house competition that I missed something going on with Liza?

I meet Taehhyun’s stare and realize that no, it wasn’t the competition that had me enraptured tonight. Not completely, anyway.

“He’s right.” I clear my throat. “You’ve earned the rest of the night off,” I tell Liza. “Truthfully …” I take a beat before finishing, “it’s just as much your holiday as it is mine. Why don’t you take the next few days off?”

“I can’t do that.” She shakes her head immediately. “I don’t have anything I need to do over the next few days except make sure you’re taken care of.”

That makes me want to ensure even more so that Liza gets some time to relax. I know she doesn’t have much family to speak of, but Christmas is Christmas.

“That’ll be my job from here on out,” Taehyun says, surprising the both of us. “I’ll make sure she gets back to the suite … in time.”

Her eyes move to mine, questioning.

“You haven’t hit the slopes once and you said you wanted to try a few lessons.”

“It’s after ten at night. The slopes aren’t open,” she reminds me.

“Tomorrow then. Go.”

“O-Okay,” she finally relents. “I’ll check on you first thing tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Taehyun answers for me.

He doesn’t even wait for me as he takes my arm holding the crutch and wraps it around his body instead.

There’s a comfort I don’t want to question as I lean into his body. He feels a little too good and the scent of gingerbread lingers on him from tonight’s competition.

“Just lean on me, Ginger,” he encourages as we make our way out of the door.

Even when we’re out of sight of my assistant and the others, he doesn’t let go of me.

“There you go,” he almost coos.

Damn, the way I want to wrap myself in his voice like a warm blanket.

No, Tania, I remind myself.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, finally pushing away from him once we reach the road that splits off in two directions that lead to the cabins on one end and hotel-style suites on the other side.

“I thought you needed my help.” He holds up the crutch in his left hand. “The armpit area can get sore if you spend too much time leaning on these things. I remember when I was fifteen, I had a broken leg. Crutches are helpful but they can be a bitch.”

I scowl at him. “You know more than anyone I don’t need that damn crutch,” I whisper forcefully at him before peering over my shoulder just to ensure that we’re still alone.

“Yes, which brings me back to my thought before we were interrupted by your assistant.”

I start to tell him once again that it’s not his place to tell my assistant what to do but he’s quicker than I am.

“I wonder what would make a world-class athlete like yourself lie to children.”

His words are like a slap to the face.

“Wh-What?”

He nods behind me, indicating the space we just left. “Eve and Stasi are fans of yours and are super excited to see you at the X Games. It reminds me of seeing you in Colorado when I witnessed a horde of young girls yelling your name and begging for your autograph.”

“When did you see me in Colorado?”

“And it makes me wonder,” he continues, paying no attention to my question, “why would someone with that type of admiration lie to her fans?”

The pit of guilt in my stomach I’ve been feeling since I made my decision to exacerbate my ankle injury begins to grow. It’s like a black hole threatening to swallow me up.

The guilt is so overwhelming that it chokes me, preventing words from coming out. Thus, instead of answering, I brush past Taehyun, intentionally bumping his shoulder with mine as I start back in the direction of my suite.

“The hell …” he growls behind me before running to get in my way.

“Move,” I tell him forcefully.

“Make me.”

“Asshole,” I throw at him and try to step around his body.

He sidesteps, getting in my way. It crosses my mind to either push him or punch him. But I hold back only because, deep down, I know the person I’m truly frustrated with the most is myself.

His question brings back to mind not only Eve and Stasi’s questions and excitement about seeing me at the X Games, but also all of the young girls I’ve come across in the past few months seeking autographs.

The little Black and Brown girls whose parents just bought them their first snowboard because they saw me on their television screen catching air off of the backside of a ramp.

The one little girl in the shopping mall who stopped me to tell me she had my poster hanging on her bedroom wall.

“It’s the only poster my mom let me hang in my room,” she told me with a smile a mile wide on her cute little face.

“I said get out of my way!” I tell Taehyun furiously while blinking to keep the stupid tears that threaten to fall at bay.

“If you think a little shoving and yelling is going to get me to back off, you haven’t learned shit about me yet,” he says as forcefully as my comment.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I explode, allowing my anger to erupt. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. Who are you to tell me I should be ashamed in front of those girls? It’s none of your damn business what I do.”

With that declaration, I shove him. And it’s none too gentle. I’m a professional athlete who spends six days a week training, four of which have me in the gym lifting weights men twice my size would complain about.

While I don’t have the hawking muscles, I am fit as hell. And strong.

My power on the board is a result of my natural strength and the effort I put in at the gym.

I say all of this to say that my push should’ve knocked Taehyun on his ass.

It doesn’t.

The bastard somehow has the equilibrium to maintain not only his balance before me, but also the determined look on his face.

“Just leave me the hell alone. Go tell the media whatever the hell you want.” I push him away and storm off in the opposite direction to go back to my suite.

No, I don’t truly mean it when I tell him to go tell the media whatever he wants. I’m sure I’ll regret it, but the last thing I want is for him to see me on the verge of tears and shame.

The shame that’s threatening to have me bursting out in a full sobbing fit.

Why, I don’t even know.

All I know is that I crave more gingerbread cookies, a mug of hot chocolate as big as my face, and to be wrapped up in front of the fireplace in my suite’s living room with the biggest blanket I can find.

“Not so fast—” Taehyun continues, spinning me to face him.

“What?” I yell out, throwing my arms in the air. “You’re such a?—”

The ‘bastard’ doesn’t have time to make it past my lips before long, hard, firm arms wrap around my body, pulling me into an even sturdier chest.

“Don’t move,” he suddenly says.

“What?” I push against his belly to free myself.

He doesn’t budge.

“There’s a group of onlookers across the road staring this way,” he murmurs in my ear. “If you want to keep your rouse up, I suggest you keep your face buried in my chest.”

I swallow back my reply, ignore the pounding of the muscle at the center of my chest and finally realize what he’s said is true. A group of people are walking past.

“Hey, did you lose this?” someone calls out.

Taehyun raises one of his hands, waving at the group. “Yeah, apparently someone had one too many spiked eggnogs.” He manages to shrug with one of his arms still wrapped around me, holding me to him.

“What are you going to do? It’s Christmas, right?” he says with a chuckle.

A few in the group laugh along with him.

“I’ll bring it over to you,” a male voice says, the sound of his steps growing closer.

On instinct, I tuck my face deeper into Taehyun’s body. Even the thick winter coat he’s wearing doesn’t obscure his delicious scent.

“There you go,” the guy says, handing Taehyun something.

I peek out of the corner of my eye to see him handing the man holding me my damn crutch. I completely forgot all about it.

“Thanks. I think it’s time I get this one home.” His arm tightens around me.

I moan and push out a long sigh to make things look legit.

“I’ve been there,” the guys tells Taehyun before crossing back over to his group.

“Don’t move,” Taehyun orders when I try to pull back. “They’re not out of sight yet.”

A part of me thinks it’s just a ploy for me to allow him to continue holding onto me. At the same time, though, I don’t really care if it is.

I should, but I don’t mind him holding me this close. And yes, I recognize how absurd that is given that less than five minutes ago, I was just about to tell him to shove it up his ass.

“Let’s go,” he suddenly says.

“What are you doing?” I gasp when he lifts me into his arms and starts carrying me in the opposite direction of my suite.

“Stop squirming unless you want me to drop you and this damn crutch.”

“Unless I … You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you’d put me down,” I counter.

He shakes his head, defiant. “What type of asshole would I look like allowing an obviously drunk woman with a sprained ankle to walk along this icy pathway, unassisted?”

“You’re deranged. Do you know that?”

Laughter is his response to my question. I have to make myself drag my eyes away from the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. A crazed urge to run my tongue along his neck strikes me.

That’s when I begin to wonder if one of the cups of hot chocolate I had during the gingerbread house competition was truly spiked. Because there’s no way I can actually be attracted to this man.

“I’ve been called worse,” he replies. “Within the last twenty-four hours, in fact.” The playful twist of his lips tells me he agrees with my assessment of his character, but doesn’t mind one bit.

“Where are we going?” I ask, having resigned myself to letting him carry me.

“My place.” His reply is so casual it almost escapes me.

“I can’t go to your place.”

“That’s obviously not true, as outlined by the fact that it’s exactly where we’re headed. You and me.”

“Are you always this insufferable?” I squirm in his arms, even though my arms are still locked around his neck. While it’s true, a part of me is loath to admit just how damn comfortable I feel in his arms.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Sometimes, I’m worse.”

I snort. “I can believe that.”

Those pink lips of his crack another smile.

“Honey, we’re home,” he says about five minutes later in front of the door of his private cabin for the next few days.