Page 5

Xander

T he moment I park in front of the Serene Lookout building, a sense of calm washes over me.

The farmhouse is massive, and the architect did an outstanding job blending it into the landscape. The stone facade gives it a rustic, inviting feel. A wraparound porch stretches across the front, with a swing, several rocking chairs, and flower pots bursting with color.

I head toward one of the chairs, small luggage in hand, and take a seat.

The view leaves me in awe—mountains stretching for miles. The sunrise and sunset from here must be spectacular.

It surprises me how eager I am to catch tomorrow’s sunrise from this very spot, fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee. There must be something in the air already working its magic on my mood.

“You must be Xander,” says a sweet voice behind me, and I jolt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you,” the voice says quickly.

When I turn around, I see a beautiful redhead woman with a bright smile and sharp green eyes studying me with quiet intent.

I stand and extend my hand. “Yes, hi. I’m Xander González. And you are?”

“Oh my gosh, where are my manners? Mommy brain is real. I’m Ruin Bianchi.”

She seems genuinely happy to see me, her voice full of warmth. But as I take a closer look, I spot dark circles under her eyes. And there’s something familiar about her. She looks just like the redhead from the diner. They must be related.

“Oh. Great to meet you, Ruin,” I say, and we end up standing there in a few awkward beats of silence.

She chuckles and shakes her head. Then she motions for me to come inside. I grab my bags and follow her in.

There’s a small reception desk where a brunette is focused on her computer screen, lazily chewing gum. To the left is a sitting area with bookshelves and what looks like a coffee bar. To the right, glass double doors lead into a gym. From what I can see, it’s packed with machines.

I can’t wait to squeeze in a workout—the drive took a toll on me.

“Xander, this is Vanessa. She’s our amazing receptionist. You can ask her any questions you might have, even food or entertainment suggestions,” Ruin says brightly.

Vanessa’s eyes widen in what can only be described as horror.

The moment Ruin registers what she just said, her face flushes a deep shade of red.

“Oh my. I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean you were the entertainment, Nessa.”

Vanessa turns red, and I can’t help the cackle that bursts out of me.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Xander. I promise I’m a professional. It just seems that five p.m. is when my brain decides to shut down,” Ruin says, taking a couple of deep breaths to compose herself.

I follow suit. The last thing I want is to make her feel worse.

“No need to worry, Ruin. I needed that laugh,” I say honestly, and she looks at me with kind eyes .

“Great. If you follow me, I can show you to your room and give you a quick tour before I leave.”

She leads me up the stairs next to the main door. The second floor is lined with closed doors. I can’t help but wonder what they all lead to—none of them are labeled.

“The rooms on the left are for patients. The rooms on the right are offices,” she explains, pointing at the first door on the right. “This one’s mine. We’ll have our first session tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

We keep walking.

“Here’s your room. Why don’t you leave your luggage here so we can continue the tour?” she suggests.

I step inside briefly. At first glance, it’s spacious and bright. I’ll check it out more later.

“This is the physical therapy room—Dylan’s. And over here is Manny’s office. He’s our head doctor,” Ruin says as we continue down the hall.

I glance at each door, already excited to meet the team I’ll be working with. Ruin catches it instantly.

“You’ll meet them tomorrow. Dylan asked for a personal day, and Manny is with his last patient of the day.”

We reach another set of stairs that lead down to the kitchen.

It’s industrial-grade and looks like a bomb went off. Veggies and fruits cover the counters, and there’s a pile of pots and pans in the sink .

Before I have the chance to ask what on earth happened, a vision materializes.

The redhead from the diner.

What are the odds?

Her gray eyes lock on mine, and I go still. Seeing her again shouldn’t rattle me. But there’s something about her that calls to me, and I can’t figure it out.

A rush of adrenaline surges through me, sharp and immediate. I’m left speechless—frozen in place, like my body forgot how to move.

“Hey, Raindrop. I thought you were gone,” Ruin says to the stunner in front of us.

“Ha! And leave this mess? A chef never leaves until the kitchen is spotless,” the woman says, giving me a once-over that nearly knocks the breath out of me.

“Do you have a name, or are you just going to keep shamelessly ogling me like you did back at the diner?” the gorgeous chef asks.

I bark out a laugh instead of introducing myself.

Real smooth, jackass.

“So he can laugh but can’t say his name. Got it.”

I can’t for the life of me form a single word.

“Is this the hockey dude?” she asks, pointing a thumb in my direction and looking at Ruin, who’s just as frozen, watching us.

“Yes, this is Xander González,” Ruin says with a wicked grin .

“I’m Rain MacAllister. This loser’s cooler twin,” Rain says, introducing herself without taking her hands off the counter.

Wait. She’s been wiping it down this whole time? I hadn’t even noticed. It’s like she sucked the air out of my lungs and knocked me on my ass.

What the actual fuck?

“Good to meet you, Hotshot. Hopefully you’ll be able to speak next time,” Rain adds, turning back to the kitchen chaos.

Ruin clears her throat and gives me a pull it together look before motioning for me to follow her.

“I’m sorry about that. My sister is amazing, but she can be a little too much sometimes,” Ruin says apologetically.

I simply wave her off, still unable to form words.

“We have an indoor pool,” she says, pointing to an annex building about fifty feet from the farmhouse, “and a multi-event space where we host seasonal activities”.

The building to the right looks like a classic red barn from the outside, with white-trimmed windows, but once we step inside, it’s a fully modern space. There’s a squash court, a dance studio, a movie theater, and even a yoga studio.

“Ruin, this place is amazing. I’m looking forward to my time here,” I tell her honestly.

She visibly relaxes. “I’m glad you think so. We’ve come up with a plan to help you heal, not just physically, but also mentally. We know how important it is for athletes to be at the top of their game.”

She hands me a piece of paper.

“So this is your schedule for this first week. We figured we’d make changes as we go and see what areas need more attention. The goal is to get you back on the ice in time for the preseason.”

A morsel of the excitement sparks in my chest, the kind I usually only feel when I’m on the ice.

This is good. Really good.

Glancing at the paper, I have meetings with her every day at different times, physical therapy with Dylan, and tomorrow I’m meeting Dr. Gutierrez. I’m sure he’ll want to run some baseline tests.

“Ruin, is there a schedule with the extra activities or things to do in town? I’m assuming I’m allowed to leave the facility anytime, correct?” I ask as we head back toward the farmhouse.

“Yes, of course. The extra activities are on the last page. Our town is small, but it’s full of fun and cute places to visit.

If you feel like hiking, there are some beautiful trails that I’ll be more than happy to point out, or as I said earlier—in a very unprofessional way— Vanessa can give you some tips. ”

I chuckle, remembering Vanessa’s eyes nearly popping out of her skull. Ruin turns a light shade of pink.

“Oh! I almost forgot. The kitchen is fully stocked, and you’re free to use it if you’d like. But if you want someone to cook for you, there’s a menu on your nightstand. We’ll deliver it to your room.”

I think about the options for dinner. By the time I’m done working out, I’ll be starving.

When we make it back to the front door, Vanessa is gone, and the house is eerily quiet. I guess everyone is gone for the day.

“One last question,” I say before Ruin slips out.

She pauses, turning back.

“The woman we met in the kitchen—Rain…”

I say her name, tasting it on my lips. She’s more like a storm.

“My sister?” Ruin asks, waiting for me to elaborate.

“Yes. Your sister,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. “Does she work here too?”

Ruin gives me a knowing look. Now it’s my turn to blush. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck.

“Yes. She started giving cooking lessons to our patients today. I haven’t spoken to her yet, and judging by the state of the kitchen when we walked in, I’m not sure if it was a success or a failure. I hope she can continue, though. Why?”

She throws a mischievous grin my way.

Damn. I haven’t even been here a full day, and I’ve already been caught ogling the owner’s sister. So much for not looking for anything—or anyone.

But Rain MacAllister isn’t just anyone .

That woman is a force to be reckoned with.

“I simply wanted to apologize for not speaking to her. I’m glad to know I’ll get a chance in her class next time.”

Ruin’s grin widens as she says, “Right. If you think you want to apologize earlier, she’s the chef at the Rustic Spoon. You can catch her there most of the time.”

I nod, smiling as I slowly retreat to my room. I already knew she worked there, but I need to act like it was no big deal.

“Looking forward to our talk tomorrow,” I say, taking the stairs two at a time.

When I reach the landing, I hear Ruin call out, “Sleep well. My number is by your nightstand in case you need anything.”

I step into my room, and the first thing I notice is a king-size bed—thank God. At six-three and two hundred and thirty-five pounds, I need all the space I can get.

Two large windows frame the mountains and gardens. A desk sits off to the side with a notepad bearing the logo of Serene Lookout. There’s also a TV, a recliner, and a mini fridge stocked with water and energy drinks. The bathroom is nice and modern.

It’s quiet. Peaceful. The kind of place designed to help you heal.

And yet, as I sit on the edge of the bed, something stirs in me—restlessness, maybe. Or maybe it’s the way her name still echoes in my mind.

Rain.

I glance toward the window, the sky already beginning to shift into dusk.

Maybe I should go watch the sunset from the rocking chairs on the porch.

Sleep can wait.