Hidden Play: The Return 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The three of us make our way back to the ski lodge. Hunter and Zion flank my sides, but no one says a word. I'm not sure whether it's the situation or the alcohol coursing through my veins, but the tension-filled journey seems much, much longer than I remember it being. Our boots crunch atop the newly fallen snow, leaving behind the only physical remnants of this terribly awkward moment.

I use the silence to clear my head and organize my jumbled thoughts. Before this ski trip, I agreed to play out the jealousy game with Hunter in the hopes to jump-start Zion's attempts to win me back. Just as so many other times before, however, Zion was a step ahead of me. Now, Zion and Hunter seem to be aware that the little ruse is over, yet both are keeping up false pretenses.

Zion told me to trust him. To be quite frank? I'm sick of trusting him. I'm sick of trusting just about everyone, Gigi excluded. Since the minute I came to this town and walked into school, I was constantly a step behind in what I now realize was a large 'game.' I was a step behind learning about Zion's fake relationship. I was a step behind realizing where I fit in with him and his true feelings for me. I was a step behind discovering Hunter and Zion's prior friendship. I was a step behind when the majority of the school turned their back on me, effectively deeming me an outcast.

And now, what? I'm supposed to once again take Zion at his word to 'trust' that he has this handled?

I can't. Not again.

Hunter knows that I want to end the little ploy, yet he's playing by his own rules, too. Hell, even Casper only stands by my side when it's convenient for him. Everyone for themselves, so they say, playing by their own set of rules to get ahead in the game. Up until now, I've played by everyone else's rules. Now, I'm ready to play by my own.

A warm heat blissfully replaces the stinging chill of winter as we step inside the lodge. The smells are just as good as they were upon our arrival, and I breathe it in like a fresh breeze. Only a few people are peppered throughout the lodge lobby. An older gentleman reads a book by the fire, his small, square glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. A middle-aged lodge worker tends to the hot chocolate station, refilling the jars of toppings – marshmallows, chocolate shavings, and peppermint sticks.

My cheeks burn, and I stretch my face a few times to get the blood flowing. How people can live in cold like this all year is beyond me. Just the constant switching from the cold outdoors to the warm insides is getting my body more confused than playing a game of drunken chess.

Hunter swipes up a few chocolate chip cookies from the cart at the elevator before pressing the 'UP' button.

"You a fan?" he asks, breaking the silence for the first time in almost twenty minutes. He waves the cookie in explanation and holds my gaze, making it clear he's only including me in his question.

I shrug. "They're alright. I'm more of an oatmeal raison guy, I'd say."

Hunter raises his brows and takes a bite of the cookie, effectively eating half in one hall. "Oatmeal raisin, huh? Any other sweets that are your weakness?"

The question takes me down memory lane, to a night Zion and I shared together. One night, when Emma and his folks were out of town, he invited me over to his place for the evening. A few hours before our meeting time, he sent a text, asking what kind of food I wanted for dinner. Jokingly, and to be exceptionally difficult, I asked for cedar plank salmon, fries, and New York style cheesecake (a true weakness of mine).

Sure as shit, four hours later, I walked into Zion's house and the smells of mouthwatering salmon and fries greeted me. And damn, it was good. I asked about a half dozen times where he got the food, but each time my question was met with a slow smirk, and the same snarky response that 'this chef never divulges his secrets.'