Twisted Hate: Chapter 11

God was punishing me for wrongs I’d committed in my past life. That was the only explanation I could think of for why I’d been subjected to my predicament.

Josh and I both refused to back down and take the couch, so we were stuck in the same room, the same , for the next two nights. A gentleman would’ve offered to sleep elsewhere, but Josh wasn’t a gentleman. He was the spawn of Satan…one who was currently staring at me with narrowed eyes as I tried to finesse my way out of skiing.

“You guys go ahead,” I told Ava, making a pointed effort to ignore Josh’s suspicious gaze. “I just remembered I left something at the cabin.”

“You sure? I can go with you.”

“Nah. We already wasted enough time with the room situation, and I might hang in the lodge for a bit first.” I waved a breezy hand in the air. “You go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Ava sounded doubtful. “We’ll be here.”

I held my breath and waited until Alex and Ava disappeared on the ski lifts before releasing it. A prickle of anxiety wormed in its way into my system as I eyed the vast expanse of snow before me.

I didn’t think I would be this affected, considering it’d been seven years since my last ski weekend, but that trip had spawned so many awful memories. Plus, there was the tape—

“What the hell did you leave at the cabin?” Josh interrupted my reverie. For someone who’d been so excited about skiing, he didn’t seem in much of a hurry to hit the slopes.

He was fully decked out in top-of-the-line ski gear—black pants, a blue jacket that stretched across his broad shoulders, and ski goggles he’d pushed up so they sat on top of his gray cap. The outfit lent him a rugged, athletic charm that had half the woman in the vicinity eyeing him with interest.

“I left my phone.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and gripped the phone nestled at the bottom of the right pocket.

“You had it in your hand on our walk here.”

“Why are you so concerned with what I left behind?” I deflected. “Don’t you have a black diamond to attend to?”

“

black diamond,” Josh corrected. “And I’m working my way up to it.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

His gaze turned assessing. “Wait,” he said slowly, his eyes raking over my form in a way that made my skin itch. “Do you know to ski?”

“Of I do.” Josh’s eyebrows rose further as monuments to his skepticism, and I added grudgingly, “Depending on how you define .”

My ex-boyfriend Max taught me during weekend when I was eighteen. I hadn’t touched a pair of skis since.

The anxiety expanded and ate at my nerves, but that didn’t stop me from glaring at Josh when he burst into laughter.

Instead of dignifying his mockery with a response, I turned and stalked away the best I could in my stupid ski boots. Angry puffs of snow sprayed up with each step.

Sweat trickled down my spine at the memories, but I forced them back into the box where they belonged before they could replay further. I’d already lived them once; I didn’t need to do so again.

“Wait.” Josh caught up with me, still laughing. The sound chased off the vestiges of my unwanted trip down memory lane, and for once, it didn’t make me want to slap him, though the next words out of his mouth did. “You’re telling me you dressed up in a ski outfit, rented skis, and came all the way down here…but you Why the hell didn’t you say anything earlier? You could’ve signed up for lessons or something.”

“I thought I could wing it.” It wasn’t the best plan, but it was a plan. Sort of.

“You thought you could ?”

My cheeks blazed. “Obviously, I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, good thing you did, or you would’ve probably died.” Josh’s laugh finally tapered off, but amusement lingered at the corners of his mouth and teased the dimple making a half appearance.

My stomach dipped. I’d never faced genuine amusement from Josh before. His smile, absent of sarcasm and maliciousness, was…disconcerting, even when it was only a quarter of a smile.

“I’m spending the rest of the day in the lodge, so don’t worry about me dying.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe I’ll find a guy who can teach me how to ski.”

“Like the one you were eye fucking in the lobby?” he asked, his tone dry.

“Perhaps.” I didn’t deign to acknowledge the part of Josh’s statement. He seemed strangely fixated on my brief interaction with a stranger, though the guy been cute. Maybe I could track him down later. Flirting always perked me up, and I could use some action that didn’t come courtesy of my hand or battery-operated friends.

Josh rubbed a hand over his jaw, his brows tight and his cheekbones like slashes against the snowy background. “I’ll teach you how to ski.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious.”

I paused, waiting for him to crack and gloat about how he’d fooled me, and how I didn’t think he’d teach me, did I?

But the moment never came.

“Why would you do that?” My stomach swooped low again for no reason. “What about your beloved triple black diamond?”

Josh offering to help me made especially since he’d been going on about that freaking ski run all morning. If he taught me how to ski, we’d have to stick to the beginner’s bunny slope.

“I’m doing it because I’m a nice person. I love helping my sister’s friends,” Josh said smoothly.

And I was the Queen of fucking England. “Besides, skiing is skiing. Doesn’t matter the slope.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” Even I, a novice, knew that.

Josh let out a long-suffering sigh. “Look, do you want to learn or not?”

My chest knotted. I hated that Max still plagued me in the present when he should be rotting in the past, where he belonged.

Because of him, I hadn’t gone skiing in seven years. It’d been an unconscious choice, but I hadn’t realized how deep the scars ran until now. Everything that reminded me of Max made me want to hurl, but maybe it was time to replace those bad memories with new ones.

I didn’t ski lessons from Josh, but I needed them. They would be a distraction, and when I got like this—when my mind couldn’t stop obsessing over the past to the point where I drove myself crazy—distractions were the only lifeline I had.

“Fine.” I rubbed the sleeve of my jacket between my thumb and forefinger, taking comfort in the sensation of thick, sturdy material against my skin. “But if I die, I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt you until the day you die.”

“Noted. I’m surprised you don’t know how to ski,” he said as we walked toward the bunny slope. “Thought you grew up near Blue Mills.”

Blue Mills was Ohio’s most famous ski resort, and it was located less than an hour’s drive from Whittlesburg, the Columbus suburb where I grew up.

“My family wasn’t big on skiing.” I zipped and unzipped the top of my jacket to release some of the restless energy pouring through my veins. “We didn’t have the money for it even if we were.”

I wanted to snatch back the accidental admission the second it left my mouth, but it was too late.

A frown carved itself into Josh’s forehead.

He knew I’d attended Thayer undergrad on a need-based scholarship, but what he and even my closest friends know was how bad it’d been in the early years, before my mother married Alastair. And they sure as hell didn’t know how much worse it got she married him, even though Alastair had been the richest man in town.

“You don’t talk much about your family.” Josh skipped over the part about us not being able to afford skiing—a tiny kindness I hadn’t expected but was nonetheless grateful for.

“There’s not much to talk about.” I bit the inside of my cheek until a faint coppery taste filled my mouth. “Family is family. You know how it is.”

A shadow crossed his face, dimming the light in his eyes and erasing any trace of his dimple. “I don’t think my family situation is a common one.”

I suppressed a wince.

Psycho father who tried to kill Ava and who was now serving life behind bars. Not common indeed.

Michael Chen had seemed so normal, but the biggest monsters always lurked beneath the most unsuspecting guises.

Josh and I didn’t speak again until we arrived at the bunny slope.

“We’ll run through the basics first before going up the hill,” he said. “Don’t need you crashing into a poor child and traumatizing them. Lucky for you, I’m an awesome teacher, so this shouldn’t take too long.”

“Your hilarity is only matched by your modesty,” I deadpanned. “Okay, let’s see what you got. And remember.” I pointed at him. “If I die, I’m haunting your ass for eternity.”

Josh placed a hand over his heart, a scandalized expression spreading across his face. Any hints of his earlier brooding had disappeared. “JR, I’m shocked. There are around. Try to keep your obsession with my ass under wraps until we return to our room.”

I mimed gagging. “Unless you want my vomit decorating your fancy ski suit, I suggest you stop talking and start teaching.”

“I can’t teach without talking, genius.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”

After another few minutes of bickering, we strapped on our skis and got down to business. I wasn’t a total novice, so I picked up the basics quickly. In theory, anyway.

I had the etiquette down pat, but we hit a bump when Josh ran me through a series of exercises designed to make me more comfortable on skis.

“Shit!” Frustration welled in my stomach when my ass hit the ground for what must’ve been the dozenth time.

I didn’t remember it being so hard the first time around. I prided myself on being a fast learner, but we’d been at it for the better part of the morning and I’d only marginally improved.

“Let’s try again.”

To my surprise, Josh had remained calm during our entire lesson, never yelling or teasing me for not picking up what eleven-year-olds around us were accomplishing so spectacularly. Every time I messed up, he repeated the same three words.

For the first time, I saw what he must be like in the emergency room: cool, level-headed, patient. It was strangely comforting, though I’d never admit it.

“I don’t think I’m built for skiing.” I pushed myself off the ground with a wince. “I propose we ditch the slopes for hot chocolate and people watching. We can guess who’s here with their mistress and who’ll be the first to hook up with a staff member.”

The slipped out without thinking. Since when did I voluntarily include Josh in my activities? But people watching was no fun without someone to appreciate my insights, and since Ava was preoccupied, her brother was my only option.

Josh walked toward me, his steps slow and precise, until he was so close I could smell the faint, delicious scent of his cologne.

I forced myself not to shift beneath the weight of his scrutiny.

“We could do that,” he said. “But that would be quitting. Are you a quitter, Jules?”

My pulse kicked up at the sound of my name in that deep, slightly husky voice. Had he always sounded like that, or was I going crazy? His voice used to pierce my eardrums like nails dragging across a chalkboard. Now, it was…

“No.” I held his stare even as another bead of sweat rolled down my spine, leaving a trail of heat and electricity in its wake. “I’m not.”

The mere suggestion I was a quitter made my teeth clench.

“Good,” Josh said, still in that calm, even voice. “Try again.”

I did, again and again, until my muscles screamed and exhaustion clawed at my bones. But I get the hang of this. I’d mastered harder things than skiing, and failure wasn’t an option. I to prove to myself I could do this. My pride wouldn’t allow anything else.

All the torture finally paid off an hour later when I completed all the exercises without falling and Josh proclaimed me ready for the bunny slope.

“Good job.” The corners of his mouth pulled up just the tiniest bit. “You caught on faster than most people.”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to detect any hint of sarcasm, but he sounded sincere.

We walked to the top of the hill, where Josh gestured toward a spot in the distance.

“We’ll take it easy,” he said. “I’m going to stand there, and I want you to ski down and stop in front of me using the snowplow. Do you need me to go over how to do it again?”

“No. I got it.”

My stomach jumped with nerves and anticipation as Josh took his spot and motioned for me to join him.

I took a deep breath and started my descent. I was going a faster than I should, given the short distance to Josh, but that was fine. I could just snowplow early.

Honestly, this wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of exhilarating—the wind in my face, the fresh mountain air, the smooth glide of my skis against the snow. It was nothing like my weekend with Max. I might even—

“Stop!”

Josh’s shout yanked me out of my rambling thoughts, and alarm kicked me in the gut when I realized how fast I was speeding toward him.

I pushed the backs of my skis out to form an inverted V, the way he’d taught me, but it was too late. Velocity propelled me faster and faster down the hill until—

“Fuck!” I crashed into Josh with enough force to knock both of us to the ground.

My breath whooshed out of my lungs in a painful rush, and he let out an audible grunt as I landed on top of him, our limbs akimbo, snow spraying up and sprinkling us with tiny white crystals.

“What part of don’t you understand?” he growled, annoyance stamped on every inch of his face.

“I to stop,” I said defensively. “It didn’t work.”

“Obviously.” Josh let out a small cough. “Christ, I think you bruised my ribs.”

“Stop being dramatic. You’re fine.” Nevertheless, I glanced down to make sure we weren’t bleeding and that our arms and legs weren’t bent at unnatural angles. I couldn’t bruised ribs, but his face wasn’t scrunched in pain or anything, so I assumed he wasn’t dying.

“You could’ve killed me.”

I rolled my eyes. And people said was a drama queen.

“It was a fall, Chen. You could’ve moved out of the way.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised you’re blaming me for something did wrong. You’re something else, JR.”

“Stop calling me JR.” It was an inane argument to have while we were plastered together on the snow, but I was so freaking sick of that nickname. Every time I heard it, I lost a fraction of my sanity.

“Fine.” The annoyance evaporated from Josh’s expression and gave way to lazy mischief. “You’re something else, Red.”

“Red. How creative,” I said flatly. “I’m baffled by how you come up with such unique and totally not obvious nicknames.”

“Didn’t realize you spent so much time thinking about my nicknames for you.” Josh tugged on a lock of my hair, a wicked gleam entering his eyes. “And I’m not calling you Red because of your hair color. I’m calling you Red because you make me red half the time. Plus, it rolls off the tongue better than JR.”

My answering smile contained enough sugar to give him diabetes on the spot. “I can see how two syllables might be too much for your puny brain to handle.”

“Babe, nothing about me is puny.” Josh lowered his hand and let it drift to my shoulder, where it lingered long enough to sear through layers of fabric and into my bones.

My breath caught in my throat. An unwitting mental image of his flashed through my mind, and a hum of electricity surged through my blood, so swift and unexpected I lost my words.

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of a single comeback.

Instead, I was suddenly, painfully aware of how close we were. I still lay on top of him from our fall, and our torsos pressed so tight against each other I could feel his heartbeat—fast, erratic, and completely at odds with his languorous drawl. The white plumes of our breaths mingled in the tiny distance between our faces, and a brief zing of surprise traveled through me at the sight.

Considering the tightness in my chest, I hadn’t thought I was breathing at all.

Josh’s smile faded, but his hand remained on my shoulder—a whisper-light touch compared to his earlier hair tug, yet enough for me to feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

I licked my parched lips, and his eyes darkened before dipping to my mouth.

The hum of electricity transformed into a bolt of lightning, lighting me up from the inside.

I should get off him. I to get off him before my thoughts wandered down even more disturbing paths, but there was something so reassuring about the solid weight of his body beneath mine. He smelled like winter and heat all wrapped into one, and it was making me light-headed.

“Jules,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” The word stuck in my throat before it came out all wrong. Weird and raspy and not at all like my normal voice.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to fuck me right now?”

The moment shattered into a thousand pieces.

My skin flamed as I shoved myself off him, making sure to jab my elbow into his face as I did so.

“Negative one thousand,” I hissed. “Times infinity.”

Josh’s laugh erased any goodwill he’d accrued during our ski lessons.

I couldn’t believe I thought he might be somewhat tolerable. One semi-decent morning didn’t change the fact he was the same , cocky ass he’d always been.

The worst part was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. There had been a moment, just the briefest one, when I’d imagined what his hands would feel like on my skin. What his mouth would taste like, whether he liked it long and slow or fast and hard.

A ball of angry embarrassment formed in my throat. Clearly, I needed to get laid, and fast, if I was fantasizing about freaking Josh Chen.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Josh pushed himself up, his mouth curved into a smug grin even as his eyes simmered with banked heat. The sight made me feel somewhat better. At least I wasn’t the only one affected by our proximity. “We can make it happen, you know. I’m no longer opposed to the idea. Our relationship is progressing.”

“The only we have is in your dreams.” I yanked my cap off and ran a hand through my tousled hair. “We’re done with lessons.”

“Quitter.” The soft mockery prickled against my skin, but I didn’t take the bait again.

“I’m not quitting. I’m postponing.” I jutted out my chin. “I’ll sign up for lessons with the resort tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get the guy from the lobby as my instructor.” Blond hair, eager smile, muscled body. Lobby Guy might as well have stamped on his forehead. “I’m sure I’ll actually enjoy my time with him.”

Josh’s grin took on a hard edge. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Red.”

Instead of responding, I turned on my heels and stormed away as gracefully as I could in skis. I should’ve taken them off before my grand exit, but it was too late now.

The dull ache of irritation throbbed in my stomach and intensified the closer I got to the lodge. God, I was an idiot. I should’ve known better than to—

Out of nowhere, the ache escalated into blinding pain. It ripped through me like a serrated blade and forced me to double over with a small gasp.

My pulse roared in my ears.

It was too early. It wasn’t supposed to happen until next week.

But when another spike of pain caused tears to form in my eyes, it was clear Mother Nature didn’t give a damn about my schedules.

It was happening and there was nothing I could do about it.