The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  They grumbled, but complied.

  I turned back to my partner. “Custom board or not, you’re doing pretty well for your first time.” It was the truth. “I’m going to move down a little and let you go on your own for a few feet, but this time you want to be on your toes.”

  She sent me a disbelieving look before pulling her goggles down and focusing on the task ahead. Flipping her board around, she pushed up off her knees, now facing up the mountain and began to slide slowly backward, placing her weight on her toe edge.

  The lift ride renewed her determination and she wobbled a few times but held it together all the way to where I was waiting for her, about a third of the way down the slope.

  “You know, I’ve snowboarded before. When I was younger. Or tried at least,” she said as she dropped to her knees and looked back up at me over her shoulder. “Chance and Chan were so good though that I just gave up. Now, give me a surfboard, and I’ll carve circles around you.”

  “You know how to surf?” At first, I was surprised. Then, the thought of her in the dangerously open ocean turned my chest to ice. I slid backward for another few feet, watching as she stood and followed my lead.

  All the while trying not to think about the way her sweet ass bounced in front of my eyes right towards me.

  “I lived in Florida for what—five years? Of course I know how to surf.” She laughed and then lost her balance, falling forward onto her knees again. How someone could fall so fucking adorably was beyond me—and yes, it was fucking adorable because I wasn’t the type of guy who ever used the word ‘adorable,’ except with her. “Crap. You’d think this would be so much easier since the wave isn’t moving underneath you.”

  I stopped and watched her push herself right back up. “Who taught you to surf?” Staying put, I let her get closer to me.

  “My cousin, Tyler, at first” she paused concentrating on picking up a little more speed, “and then Dylan.”

  “Who’s Dylan?” Who the fuck was Dylan?

  Her head jerked back to me and she lost her balance towards the back edge of her board. “Shit!” This time she was close enough that she tipped back right into me, my hands immediately grabbing her waist, steading her—and her sweet ass—right against my dick. “Who’s Dylan?”

  There were a million layers between us; in more ways than one.

  “A f-friend. A friend of Tyler’s.” I couldn’t see shit because she wasn’t facing me, but I knew there was more. “That would have been a bad fall, huh? Wow, I did not see that coming.” I felt her shake underneath my hands. “The back edge just sunk right in. If you weren’t behind me I would have had no way to stop the fall and ended up smacking my head in the process.”

  “Incentive to keep you on your toes,” I answer curtly. And I didn’t let her go.

  “Thanks, King Obvious.” She made no move to escape my hold.

  We held onto moments that we could later justify as something less than what they were.

  “Well, unless you want to quit now—after half of a run,” I taunted.

  “Um, no. I know you just want to get rid of me, but it’s not going to be that easy, King. It’s fine—I just won’t sit down or kneel for the next week or so.”

  She laughed and I wished I found it funny. Instead, my dick swelled painfully—angrily—begging for the only thing it had craved for months.

  “I don’t want to get rid of you,” I said even though I shouldn’t have.

  Ally exhaled her disbelief. “Well, you certainly don’t act like it.”

  “Because if I did, the only reason you’d have for not being able to sit for a week,” I pulled her ass hard against the ridge of my cock, “is me.”

  Her gasp only made it worse. “I might be ok with that…” she replied breathlessly.

  “No. Fuck. No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Stop telling me what to do,” she said softly, “you know I’m not going to listen anyway.”

  “You need to, Ally. You need to listen to me otherwise you’re going to fall.” On the mountain. On your head. And for me. “And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She slowly arched her hips back against mine, all along the thick hardness that strained against my clothes. “And I don’t want to fight this anymore; I know you want me.”

  My jaw clenched so hard I was surprised I didn’t break it. The pain would have been less than the lie I was about to tell. “Not really. Not enough. Sorry.” I needed to step away; I needed to keep this professional. Letting her down was the only way. “I have to go check on the others. You ok?”

  “Yup.” Her voice had toughened, but didn’t give any indication that my words had hurt; that was my strong girl.

  I angled my board and checked on the others even though my gaze kept going back to her.

  The rest of the lesson was uneventful. Thank fucking God.

  We made it down the bunny hill two more times with no casualties. After that second run, I didn’t hold Ally anymore; I didn’t touch her. I worked with the two other girls who were legitimately struggling—or at least they pretended like they were. And the way that they looked at me, I had a strong feeling that they were pretending.

  I wanted to go back to her. To help her. But I kept fucking digging myself into a bigger hole because I couldn’t resist her.

  And who the hell was Dylan?

  I helped the others, but she was always in my view; like the sun—inescapably present. After I left, she flipped back to working her heel edge, probably afraid of the spill she’d almost taken. Honestly, she didn’t fall a lot, although it was a lot more than she would have if I had stayed there to support her. Still, she did better than the other girls. The boys on the other hand were a different story. After the second run, they ignored my caution and tried to fly down the trail without knowing what the hell they were doing. I didn’t count the times that they fell; it was their own damn fault and I laughed at them for it.

  This was why I was a horrible teacher.

  Ally was determined to master this—like it was her fucking lifeline. I had to give her credit for it. Now, if she was determined to have me… that was going to be a problem. Just how big a problem, Chance’s words reminded me.

  “You did good today.” I stopped in front of her while she unstrapped.

  “I don’t think I should believe you.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. “Mostly because my body begs to differ.”

  Leave it at that. “Who’s Dylan?” Or don’t. He was someone and I needed to know.

  “I told you, a friend of my cousin’s,” she said with a strained voice.

  I followed her, trying to steer clear of the board that swung behind her as she tried to walk away from me.

  “What else?” Ally spun and almost took out two small children in the process. “Careful how you hold that thing, Sunshine. You’re dangerous.”

  “Nothing else.” Helmet and goggles were off, so I searched her eyes for more. “I want to talk about last night.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, then I don’t want to talk about Dylan.” She spun again, her board whacking into the side of mine. She didn’t apologize because she’d done it on purpose.

  I throbbed with the need to make her tell me what I wanted to know. I was the King. There was no give and take, tit for tat, ‘I’ll share mine if you share yours.’ The need to punish and pleasure her was like a goddamn disease spreading over me.

  Life-threatening. Incurable. Mine.

  13. I hate how he was always trying to protect me. I hate how I love that he was always trying to protect me.

  EXHAUSTED WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT FOR how I’d felt yesterday when Tammy brought me home after my evening shift at Cup of Joe. I should have taken a hot bath before climbing into bed since my muscles were already aching, but I was just too tired. The upside? I was too drained to dwell on how empty the house was.

  I was almost tempted to ask Jessa or Tammy to come and stay with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it; I was be
ing ridiculous. I was going to be twenty-one in a little over a week. I should be ok living on my own.

  When I woke up this morning, the awareness of my solitude was back, along with muscles that were so stiff, I thought they might snap as I got out of bed. My legs, which had been toned from surfing, hadn’t been used in that way for almost a year. My knees were bruised and my ass felt like someone had whooped on it all night long.

  Current situation: I was standing in front of the most difficult task that I would have to accomplish today—making it down the stairs.

  Wow, that burns. Great, only one step down.

  Maybe it was a good thing no one else was here to see this. Holding the bannister, I lowered myself to the ground and proceeded to slide down the rest of the stairs on my butt. Still painful, but significantly less so.

  Considering the excruciating slowness with which I pulled on my black, skinny jeans and a white v-neck cable sweater, I was surprised to actually be waiting for Tammy to pick me up.

  “Ally! You ready?”

  “Over here!” I yelled. I heard her walk towards me, watching as she jumped, seeing me sitting on the bottom step.

  “Oh my gosh, are you ok?” she rushed to my side.

  “Oh, yeah…” I winced. “I just… need some help standing.” My best friend unsuccessfully held back a laugh as she gave me a hand and pulled my aching body up. “Alright, I’m ready.” She was still laughing. “I’d hit you right now if I wasn’t completely confident that it would hurt me more than it would hurt you.”

  “I’m sorry, Ally,” she got out as she laughed even harder.

  “Whatever,” I grumbled, picking up my bag of snow clothes for later and hobbling like an old woman out to Tammy’s classic mom-car, the Subaru Outback.

  “I don’t know if I should take this as the lesson went really well or really terribly?”

  I’d been so exhausted last night that I’d fallen asleep on the drive home and told her nothing; she’d almost had to carry me inside. “Is it possible for me to say both?”

  We pulled out of the drive. “Only if you tell me why.”

  “Well, I can say for sure that I am better at snowboarding than I am at skiing.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I can also say that Emmett still continues to be on/off with me because Chance is my brother.”

  “Well, knowing how the three of them grew up, I can understand why he would feel like he’s taking advantage of his friendship with Chance.” I could always count on Tammy to give me the other point of view. “There’s a reason he’s called ‘King.’ He makes the rules and expects everyone to submit to them—including himself. As a rule, you are off limits.”

  “I know. It’s just every time I’m around him, I’m on edge—both of wanting to throw myself at him because that is how much he makes me want him and of bashing my snowboard over his stupidly, stubborn skull.”

  “I’m not sure that second feeling is ever going to go away… he is a male after all.”

  I awkwardly hissed after my attempt to laugh was cut short from the pain in my abs. More sore muscles. Awesome.

  “He just needs to get used to the idea that you aren’t just Chance’s little sister; that you are a woman—a woman that he wants just as much as you want him. I may not go on dates or deal with guys—aside from what I have to with yours and Channing’s relationship with the Snowmass crew—but, I know the look that they give when they want something, when they want something to the point that they would burn down the resort and blow up the mountain to get it, and that’s how Emmett looks at you every single time.”

  I looked over at her as the car pulled to a stop in the parking lot closest to Cup of Joe. Tammy spoke from experience, there was no doubt in my mind. And I wondered just which of the SnowmassHoles had looked at her like that—which one of them had broken her heart.

  “It’s just going to take time—convincing him to break his own rules. And maybe a little of throwing yourself at him.” She grinned and winked at me.

  “Yeah,” I sighed and opened the door.

  “Are you going to the lesson again today?”

  “Of course,” I smirked. “I might not be able to move, but it’s ‘merely a flesh wound.’” My reference to Monty Python and the Holy Grail was complete with a deplorable British accent.

  “Alright, I’ll see you later then!”

  Why was I doing this again? I thought grimly as day two of trying to squeeze my feet into the snowboard boots seemed significantly more daunting than the day before.

  “Everyone almost ready?”

  Oh, right. Large, drop-dead gorgeous, flame-breathing, sexily-brooding, demanding snowboarder. That’s why.

  “How you feeling today, Little Miss Sunshine?”

  “Like I’m ready to ride.” I stood smoothly—or die. Ow, ow, ow. My body crippled down only after he turned away.

  “You’re hurting, aren’t you?” He asked without even looking to confirm. Jerk.

  “I’d rather not think about it, thank you.”

  “Did you take a bath or get in the Jacuzzi last night?”

  “No. Too tired.” I watched the end of the chairlift approach and it felt like I was in a movie, trapped on one of those conveyor belts, heading towards a machine filled with blades meant to sashimi whatever passed through it. Great analogy there, Al.

  “Dammit, Ally,” he swore. “You shouldn’t be up here right now if you are in the amount of pain that I’m imagining you are. You’re only going to hurt yourself more.”

  I pushed the bar up, ready to be sliced-and-diced. “I’m fine. I took some Motrin. Once I start going everything will loosen right back up.”

  He laughed harshly. “Yeah, not quite how that works there, sunshine.”

  I didn’t fall off the lift. It was a miracle. It was probably because I was so stiff that any anxious movements were halted, unable to throw me off balance.

  “Alright, class. Now that you’ve learned how to stop, today, we are going to attempt turning.”

  I stared down at my board, semi-listening to Emmett, semi-wondering how I was going to strap in. Sitting down was not an option because I would be stuck up here all night.

  “Heel turns and toe turns are your only two options. Just like we did yesterday with stopping, each turn involved you placing your weight on your heels or your toes—meaning the front or back of your board.”

  Ok, flat surface, just stay steady. Carefully, I lifted my foot and placed it in the binding. Bending over to crank down the straps was a joy, but not like sitting down to do this would have been.

  When I made it upright, Emmett was in front of me again. “You good?”

  “Perfect.” I smiled brightly at him—at least those muscles weren’t sore.

  “Just… dammit… wait here.” He huffed, strapping himself in and sliding over to where the two girls from yesterday were.

  I was frozen at the top of the slope. I could see tracks everywhere, marring the white snow, with more being made by the second as skiers and snowboarders moved around me; there were a million paths to take. How could I know I was taking the right one?

  I looked again and Emmett was now with the boys, trying to reason with them to take it easy down the trail. The two girls were slowly carving back and forth, one at a time.

  This was ridiculous. I’ll just go slow.

  Every muscle protested as I hopped to angle my board straight ahead. The ground slid away underneath the board and all I heard was Emmett’s voice in my head.

  For a heel turn, knees bent, weight back on your heels especially on your back leg.

  The words repeated and I willed my body to do what they said, swinging my left foot around to turn the snowboard. Slow and steady, I survived the first turn.

  Facing down the slope, I could see Emmett was back with the girls. One of them had fallen and he was bent down, emphatically explaining something to her.

  I could do this.

  Ok, toe-turn. I moved slowly, this tim
e resting my weight on the toe-edge of the board and moving my right foot back. Another success. Maybe I was on the right path.

  My legs were burning though so I dropped to my knees. I looked over my shoulder. Emmett was off his board and holding the hands of the younger girl as she attempted to make a toe-turn.

  I grunted, not bothering to hide the pained sound as I stood back up. Taking my time, I completed another set of turns without too much trouble, the fear of falling dulling the way my muscles throbbed from overexertion. Emmett was looking at me now. He wasn’t wearing his goggles or helmet because he wasn’t attached to his board; his gear sat in a pile a few feet further up the slope from him as he continued to help the girl who was struggling. He realized that I was moving down the run on my own and he wasn’t happy.

  What was I supposed to do? Sit up at the top like a damsel-in-distress?

  Sorry, King Emmett. You’re not my knight? Well, I’m not your damsel—not today, at least.

  Kneel or stand? That was my dilemma. I decided on remaining upright; the pain of standing was less than the pain of getting back up from the ground. If I calculated correctly, two more sets of turns would bring me to the bottom and then I probably should call it for the day and try to recover.

  Ok, half-way there. Just finish it, Ally.

  I inhaled and angled my board, letting myself gain a little more speed before swinging shakily through a heel turn to a stop. Maybe, if I just keep moving it will hurt less. I didn’t bother to look for Emmett; I just needed to get to the bottom of the mountain.

  I started again, gaining more speed. A little too much speed. Crap. My legs were shaking, the muscles so tired. Double crap. Just let me make this turn. Please.

  Flexing onto my toes, I swung the board around, the turn much sharper than my others—sharper than I anticipated. But, I held it together as my board evened out. I was still moving pretty fast, but at least I survived the turn. I put more pressure down, looking up to see the ice chunk in my path too late. I sailed right over it, my balance thrown off—thrown forward.