The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  I turned and slid back into the crowd just as the bartender returned with what looked like a celebratory round of drinks for her and my sisters.

  The plan had been to just leave her alone. But I couldn’t do that now.

  Misery fucking loves company.

  And my misery was going to love fucking her company.

  The End.

  On the Edge Epilogue

  Christmas morning

  “YOU LOOK NERVOUS.”

  My head whipped around so I could glare at Channing. “I regret telling you.”

  “You had to tell me,” she quipped, scooting closer to where I sat on the ledge in front of the fireplace in the living room. “You had to tell one of us.”

  My mouth firmed. “Not really.” I huffed and wiped a hand over my mouth, my eyes drifting back to the stairs like a yo-yo, waiting for Ally to appear.

  “You’re right,” she conceded, excitement bouncing in her eyes. “But you didn’t want to tell Chance, and in order to that, you had to tell me.”

  I rubbed my palms along my thighs, looking at the plain-wrapped present that sat in front of the tree, a simple ‘To Ally’ written on the top. A simple box that held forever or failure in its contents.

  Hopefully, forever.

  “This is already dicey enough. I didn’t want to take a chance that Pride might, you know, punch me again. Or maybe throw me into the Christmas tree.”

  Chance, Jessa, Wyatt, and Lynn and Jason Ryder stood in the kitchen while Wyatt—the golden boy—made pancakes for everyone.

  Always a winner that one…

  I didn’t give a shit about them. Okay, maybe I did. Maybe I’d told Channing because I needed an accomplice. I needed an excuse to come over two days ago after Ally’s parents arrived for the holiday and ask their permission to marry their daughter.

  Maybe I’d told Channing because I needed an ally. Because I wasn’t sure how Chance would react.

  Remembering how distinctly displeased he’d been when he found out we were together, I wasn’t willing to risk another obstacle before asking her.

  To be fucking honest, I was going to marry Alice Ryder, and I didn’t give a damn what her parents, her brother, or anyone else in the world thought about it.

  She was my sunshine.

  “Good point. We wouldn’t want to risk the Christmas tree.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Please. You know Jessa would toss him into the tree if he breathed the wrong way about this.”

  Good point.

  Pride was an ass. But Jessa Madison was a goddamn force of nature, and one that thankfully—happily—kept him in line.

  “Are you sure she’s up?” I growled, my gaze pinned to the top of the stairs.

  With Channing in on my plan, she’d convinced Ally to stay here last night since their parents were staying with Chance—an opportunity for their whole family to stay together for a few days.

  “Yes. Calm down, King.” My friend and hopefully future sister-in-law sighed. “You shouldn’t be nervous.”

  My head ducked.

  “Emmett. Ally loves you.” Channing placed a hand on my shoulder. “She’s not going to give you up. She’s not going to leave you.”

  No matter how long we’d been together nor everything we’d overcome, there were some parts of my past that haunted me for far too long to not leave shadows that lingered.

  Shadows that whispered I wasn’t good enough for the woman I loved with every beat of my heart.

  Movement caught my eye.

  Ally stood at the top of the stairs, her hair spilling in long, bright waves over her shoulders, wearing an off-white sweater dress that fell to the middle of her thighs and dark brown socks that rose just above her knees.

  Fuck, I loved when she wore sweater dresses.

  And I loved fucking her in them, too.

  I rose and she paused when she saw me, air rushing into her chest before the most beautiful smile lit her face.

  A smile that made me feel worth everything—and worthy of her love.

  “There’s nothing to be worried about, King.” Channing turned to me so no one could see her lips move. “I’ll bet my pass to the mountain on it.”

  Christmas.

  When I moved to Aspen, I’d thought about the holiday often. Maybe because snow was generally linked to the festivities. But more so because I knew I would need to adjust my expectations.

  No parents. No love. No family holiday.

  That was what I’d told myself.

  But how reality happened was nothing like I’d prepared for.

  Instead, this morning—Christmas morning—I was in my childhood home, watching my parents talk with my sister and her fiancé about their wedding plans. I watched my brother and his girlfriend—one of my best friends—laugh and take turns smelling the candles my mom had bought them for Christmas.

  And I was sitting next to the man I loved—the man who hadn’t taken his eyes off me from the moment I first saw him earlier as though I was a Christmas miracle who might disappear.

  “What is it?” I turned and asked him softly.

  He stared at my hand where it was clasped between both of his, his thumbs rubbing over my skin.

  “You,” he rasped. “You’re it.”

  My cheeks heated and my heart began to race.

  Bright, burning eyes captured mine and store my breath.

  “I have something for you.”

  I swallowed a small cry of distress. “You said we were going to open our presents later tonight… at home.”

  As much as I cherished this time with my siblings and family, it was only further proof that home was where my heart was—where Emmett was.

  He nodded slowly. “I just have one for you to open here.”

  Reaching toward the tree, he pulled a small box wrapped with brown paper from underneath and handed it to me.

  Staring at him with wide eyes, I took the gift from his hands, feeling more eyes turn toward me.

  The weight of the gift surprised me. Small but of substance.

  “This isn’t fair,” I murmured, hooking my finger into the paper.

  “No. It’s definitely not,” he replied cryptically and shifted in his seat as I began to unwrap the gift.

  Pushing back the paper, I revealed a wood-carved box. I didn’t even bother to ask, knowing already this was something he’d made himself.

  On the top, burned into the wood, was my drawing of the sun—the one he’d put on my snowboard.

  I traced my fingers over the textured wood, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes as I vaguely heard the comments and compliments of my family flood in from every direction.

  Even though I was their focus, I couldn’t focus on them. I could only think of him.

  “It’s beautiful, Emmett.” I reached for his hand. “Thank—”

  “Open it,” he growled, his attention focused on the box.

  My brow scrunched, but I obeyed. As soon as the top tipped open, a familiar tune rang through the space.

  You are my sunshine.

  And if the melody of the hand-carved music box stole my breath with each note it played, it was the contents that stopped my heart.

  Sitting inside the box on top of a black velvet pillow was a ring.

  A ring with a giant yellow diamond in the center.

  I went to turn to Emmett only to realize he was kneeling in front of me, hope and anguish flooding his expression.

  “You’re my sunshine, Ally Ryder. My only sunshine.” He took my hand and I felt the subtle shake in his. “And I would be the happiest fu—man in the world”—I bit my tongue as he caught his curse—“if you’d be the light of my life forever and agree to be my wife.”

  Christmas morning. With my parents. My siblings. My friends.

  This was all because of him.

  Because he loved me.

  “Yes.” I beamed. “Yes, I will.”

  To my girls—my Three Amazing Butts. I don’t know what I would do without you and witho
ut our daily group text talking about teeth, life, travel, and all the crazies. Thank you for coining the donut look—and the myriad of other real-life stories that I’ve used in my imaginary ones. I couldn’t write about such amazing friendships without yours in my life. I love you both.

  To my sister—Thanks for being the Ally to my Channing. I’m sorry that I never listen to you and always do the opposite of what you suggest; what can I say? I’m stubborn. I love you, toupee. I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.

  To my husband (always)—I love you. Thanks for making a cameo in this story with your signature white-sequin glove. ;)

  To my readers—Thank you for making this series what it is. I hope Ally and Emmett keep you on the edge of your seats—they’ve been anxiously waiting to tell you their story!

  To those who have held a life inside of them and lost it—a life that didn’t know fear,

  or cold, or hunger or loneliness, a life that knew nothing but love.

  Remember, you are not broken.

  You did nothing wrong.

  You will not let this define you because you are strong.

  You will continue to hold onto hope because you are brave.

  And you will never let go because hope is the only light bright enough

  to drive out the darkness of loss.

  And to the one I love who was never born.

  “Listen to your gut. The pull.

  Don’t be afraid.

  If you can’t stop thinking about it then you want it,

  Have wanted it,

  And will continue to want it.

  Dive straight in and ride it out.”

  —Victoria Erickson

  I KNEW HE WAS A player the moment that I first saw him. He had a smile that would not only break my heart but would leave me haunted.

  A gorgeous ghost. So gorgeous it hurt. So gorgeous, it made me so mad.

  I was a goner.

  She was free in her wildness. A wanderer. A drop of water and one cell in the sea of snow.

  She was a free-fucking-radical.

  Damaging me.

  Destroying me from the inside out.

  The Ten of Wands: The card that represents the completion of a cycle after a period of hard work and struggle. Finally reaping the rewards after investing a lot of time, hard work, and effort. However, even with achievement comes responsibility and commitments that must be carried.

  “ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T want me to come with you to your doctor’s appointment, Tam?” I offered even though I didn’t have much time before my interview. “Shit.” I swore underneath my breath as the curling iron brushed my neck.

  “I’m really fine, thank you—Are you ok?” Tammy asked, appearing in the bathroom doorway a moment later, motherly concern blanketing her face.

  I’d been staying on her couch for almost two weeks now. Someone had reported black mold in my apartment building, which meant that I was homeless until further notice.

  As if I needed any more stress right now.

  “Yeah, just burned myself,” I sighed, running a washcloth underneath the sink and holding it up to my neck. My eyes were momentarily distracted by the ribbon tattoo on the inside of my elbow; it would be hidden as soon as I pulled my sleeve down.

  “Are you ready for your first day? Are you sure you don’t want me to pack you a lunch?” she offered.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. I moved back to Aspen, where I’d gone to high school with Tammy, from Rising Sun in Texas a few months ago. I’d gone to college and completed my Physical Therapy degree and boards there, but when I moved, I had to retake certain parts of them in Colorado in order for my license to move with me. I’d spent the past few months studying for them while working at the same daycare as Tammy to earn some extra bucks.

  A few weeks ago, I’d interviewed at the physical therapy out-patient facility for the Porter Adventist Hospital located in Aspen. The ski injuries alone could keep the clinic running, but they dealt with more than just recreational and professional accidents and I’d heard they had one of the best facilities in the state.

  I wasn’t licensed at my interview, but I guess I made a good enough impression—in spite of the bright pink hue of my hair and numerous tattoos that certain businesses might deem unprofessional—to get asked back for a second interview with the director, Dr. Lev, as soon as I passed my boards.

  Those boards were officially passed as of last week and that second interview was today.

  “It’s just a second interview, Tam. It’s not guaranteed. And I’m good on lunch, but thank you,” I teased lightly; I was the last person she needed to worry about right now.

  Tamsin Lucas, my model-esque best friend was a ski instructor, nanny, and manager of Open Hearts Daycare—but she was born to be a mom. The fact was endearing, sometimes annoying, but mostly heartbreaking because it was the one thing that she might never be. At least to her own child. To the rest of us—and to her kids at the daycare—that was a different story.

  “Jessa, I’m sure they are going to hire you,” she reassured me with motherly confidence. “Alright, well if you need anything let me know. I shouldn’t be too long at the doctor’s; they are just taking some blood.”

  “Again?”

  She shrugged and side-stepped with another question. “Have you heard from your landlord?”

  I winced. Tammy was OCD when it came to making sure everything in her life was in order so, while she would let me live here indefinitely (and baby me until my dying day), she liked everything to be in order and in its place; and when I was here, it definitely wasn’t.

  Free-spirit. Hippie. Bohemian.

  AKA Jessa Lynn Madison. And all politically correct for a tulip wrapped in a tornado. Pretty. And pretty deadly.

  At least I smelled like honeysuckle and made a mean taco dip.

  Alright, those probably weren’t cutting it for Tammy especially when I left my make-up and La Croix bottles everywhere. Oh, and messed up her couch pillows. That was the worst offense; if I wasn’t a best friend, it would have been punishable by hanging.

  “I haven’t. I’m just going to start looking for a new place. Who knows how long this is going to take them…” I sighed, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. “My lease is almost up anyway.”

  “Well, you know you are absolutely welcome to stay here for as long as you want. Seriously.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I grinned as I used my forearm to wipe my slew of makeup palettes scattered around the sink into my bag. Tammy stared at me in horror. “But, I know you. And I know you love me, but I also know that my… lifestyle… is killing you right now.”

  “No, it’s not—“ she began, jerking back to cover her eyes when I held my bag open for her to see the powdered mess of everything inside. “Ok! Point made,” she conceded, peeking through her fingers. “But, I love you enough to suffer in silence.”

  I laughed and shook my head before pushing her through the doorway. I needed to get my scrubs on and get on the road.

  “So, Ms. Madison, how are you liking Aspen so far?” Dr. Lev’s question was lilted with the faintest hint of a Russian accent; he was an older gentleman with a beard that looked like it would belong to Santa Claus if it were white as well as the jolly man’s belly—ironic considering he worked in a physical therapy and rehabilitation center. He was the head doctor in the clinic—and hopefully, my future boss. “I hope you’ve been warned about the cold. And the snow. Not sure you’ve seen any of that down in Texas.”

  The thing I liked about being at a physical therapy center was that the building wasn’t cold or sterile like a hospital. Cold and sterile made me think of lifeless and lifeless reminded me of my brief hospital visit two months after my arrival in Texas.

  I shuddered and forced the thought from my mind.

  “Well, I grew up here, actually.” I smiled, focusing on the conversation as I followed him down the hall for the tour of the facility. “So, I’m very prepared for the cold.”

  “Oh, I
didn’t realize.” He held the door open for me. “This is the gym. We have several trainers come in during the week as well.”

  State-of-the-art.

  The wide-open space sprawled out into the world with the expansive windows along the front and giant mirrors on the other walls reflecting the mountains that were in the distance back into the room. And beautiful new exercise equipment. All signs of lives getting back on track.

  Exactly what I needed.

  Fun fact? I was a little bit of a gym rat. Well, since college that is. God, this place was like heaven.

  In high school, I’d snowboarded to exercise because that was what most of the kids in our school did. In Texas, I’d had to improvise. But it wasn’t that hard when I’d wanted to avoid all reminders of Aspen and assholes. My roommate, Emily, had asked me if I wanted to go to the gym with her during freshman orientation week and the rest is history.

  Dr. Lev introduced me to a few of the trainers who were already in there working with clients and gave me a run-down of the machines that they had as well as some of the other services that they offered. I’d already heard about them from the receptionist who showed me around at my first interview, but I didn’t say anything; I let him think I was as amazed by them as he was.

  “And in here is our Aquatherapy room.”

  My eyes bulged. “You have a HydroWorx?” The latest water-rehabilitation therapy for all kinds of injuries and training. We’d had them at school but only a few clinics in the country had implemented them so far.

  “I’m glad you’re familiar,” Dr. Lev exclaimed and I swear his stomach shook like a bowl full of jelly. “I can’t tell you how many people I’ve interviewed who thought it was nothing more than a weird-looking hot tub.”

  “We used these all the time in the clinic in Texas. I’m very familiar. They are incredible,” I gushed. The thing did look like a hot tub, but the reality was so much cooler. The pools contained a treadmill, resistance therapy jets, and massage capabilities.