Cold As Ice

by Piper Rayne

  We land and continue to try to one-up each other as we fly past tree trunks that could ruin our careers, if not our lives.

  I ride up one spot and the edge of my board hits a tree. Snow spraying all over me, leaving the tree as the only spot of green on the hill.

  Somewhere along the ride, we end up back on the run, me a few seconds before her. I reach the end first and carve out a spot for us at the bottom, where we take off our goggles and stare into the camera.

  “We're going to be on fire in Korea thanks to Gasoline Energy Drinks,” we say in unison.

  “Cut.” Hal stomps over, his big boots leaving indents in the snow. “What the hell was that? Turn around.”

  Mia and I truly make eye contact for the first time. Her eyes are a crisp sparkling blue, her lips a light pink that matches the rosiness of her cheeks and she’s breathing heavily. When did she become so hot? The way she’s panting from exertion makes me wonder if it’s reminiscent of what she’s like after she comes.

  As soon as that thought enters my brain, I scrunch my forehead and give my head a shake.

  Where the hell did that come from?

  Mia scowls at me and a chill runs through my body. “What?” she asks, clearly annoyed.

  “Hey, you two.” I drop her gaze and look over at Hal. “Those are the cameras.” He points up the run to where the cameras have been strategically placed along the edge of the run. “This was supposed to be the two of you out for a leisurely ride after winning your spots on the team—within camera range. Not some pissing contest over who can outdo the other through the trees.”

  Hal's pissed and I can’t say I blame him. We wasted a good amount of time and money with our stunt.

  “Now, Ollie is going to take you back up that mountain and you're going to ride down with each other, smiling and having fun. Got it?”

  I nod, but it seems Mia’s a harder sell.

  “I can't act. That's why I snowboard,” Mia says, her voice holding onto some of her earlier annoyance.

  “Well, if you'd like Gasoline to continue cutting that check, channel your junior high theater class and get your ass up that hill.” Hal's no shit attitude rings loud and clear.

  Gasoline's been my sponsor since I was twelve. I’ve got my fingers crossed that they’re going to build me my very own halfpipe for practicing. Damn if I'm going to fuck that up.

  I head to the snowmobile, but I end up face-to-face with Mia. Holding out my hand, I smile. “Ladies first.”

  Her eyes might be hidden under her goggles again, but her tight lips let me see how easy it is to get under her skin.

  She hops on the back, holding her board to her chest and lets Ollie take her back up the hill.

  “Can we all act civilized?” Candice comes to stand at my side.

  “Sure thing.” I wink.

  “That smirk tells me no, but listen, get this promo right and then you'll be done with one another for awhile.”

  “Did you know she was going to be here?” I ask, curious why she wouldn't have warned me.

  She nods, grabbing her ChapStick out of her pocket and applying a layer to her lips. “Of course.” She puckers her lips and then stashes the tube back in her coat pocket. “Mia is my client.”

  The cold air seeps into my slack-jawed mouth. “What? This is something that should’ve been discussed when I hired you.”

  “No.” She shakes her head and the rumble of the snowmobile engine grows closer as Ollie makes his way back down the mountain. “She has nothing to do with you. You can both be my clients.”

  “You know our past.” I push back all the thoughts trying to invade my brain—the regret, the shame and disappointment.

  She nods. “I do.”

  “You're just trying to grab two big paychecks because we're the best.”

  A sly smile crosses her lips and she peeks up at me. “Are you admitting that Mia Salter is the best?”

  I stare at her blankly unable to find words for her. No wonder Jagger suggested her, she's sharp.

  Her small mittened hand pats my back. “Now, hop on that snowmobile, and do this right so you can earn both of us a paycheck.”

  My mind swirls like snow tumbling down in an avalanche—Candice represents both of us? It shouldn’t be a problem since men and women's ad budgets don't usually mix together…if anything, sponsors pick one of each and target to each sex.

  I hop on the snowmobile and without delay, Ollie flies up the hill, engine roaring.

  Once it slows at the top, I jump off, securing myself to my board without much thought. It’s second nature by now.

  Mia's waiting for me at the top of the hill, her gaze assessing.

  What’s this? There's no disgusted look on her face. I doubt all those little girl flutters from the past have had a resurgence in her stomach. Not after what happened with her brother.

  “I thought you hated me?” I ask, unable to resist taunting her.

  Her eyes snap up to meet my gaze, her lips straightening.

  “I do.” She positions her pink goggles over her eyes.

  I lower my own. “It looks like you were objectifying me.” I slide my board back and forth over the top of the snow, anxious to get going.

  “I can appreciate the view. It’s no different than you did earlier when you were checking out my ass.” Her tongue slides out of her mouth, licking her lips.

  I've never so badly wondered what lips taste like.

  Whoa. What the hell am I thinking?

  I’m going to chalk that one up to the fact that I’ve been so busy training that getting laid has been on the back burner and right about now any female would look appetizing.

  “You're seeing things. I don't check out my best friend’s sister.”

  She glances over to Ollie who’s on the radio talking to someone at the bottom of the hill.

  A hollow laugh leaves her mouth into the still cold air. “You're not his best friend anymore.”

  Her words cut deep, but I can’t let her see how deep.

  We lock gazes and teeter back and forth on our boards, itching to go.

  “Let me rephrase it then…I don’t date my ex-best friend’s sister.”

  “And I don't date immature assholes who only give a shit about themselves.” Her lips turn up into a fake smirk.

  She breaks our connection, looking down to fix her glove—not that there seemed to be anything wrong with it to begin with. “Ollie!” she yells.

  He holds his hand up in the air, indicating that it’ll be another minute.

  “Getting to be a bit of a diva, are you? I mean you don't even have a medal yet.”

  Her smirk vanishes and even I know that was hitting below the belt. But damn if Mia and all that she represents doesn't bring out the worst side of me.

  “That's all going to change. Care to wager a little bet about who will pick up more gold at the Winter Classics?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. I could easily win that bet.

  “Are we talking sexual favors when I win?” I don’t know why I can’t stop myself from baiting her.

  She glances behind me for a second and then grabs a hold of her earbud, readying to put it in her ear. I assume Ollie's on his way over.

  “I wouldn't sleep with you even if you had a nine-inch dick,” she spits out.

  I grin. “You've heard the rumors I take it? I’m disappointed to know they’re shortchanging me. Ten inches and girth doesn't disappoint.” I wink.

  “UGH!” she screams.

  I laugh.

  This girl has always been too easy to rile up.

  Ollie approaches, looking over to me from the corner of his eyes.

  “You okay, Mia?” he asks.

  “Let's just do this.” Again, she rocks her board side-to-side.

  “They’re ready for you guys,” he says. We watch as he counts us down again.

  Mia and I might not agree on anything, but we each move down the hill at a consistent pace suggesting that we might agree on one thing—we
both want this to be over, so we can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.

  Chapter Three

  “Who is that?” I ask Dax as he comes out of the lodge. My stomach growls at the mouthwatering cheeseburger he's just about finished devouring.

  Stuffing the last piece in his mouth, he positions his goggles on top of his head and squints in the direction I was looking. “Not sure. They all look the same, but even with those snow pants on, I can tell that her ass is definitely slapable.”

  Dax has great vision, but you could be halfway from here to Denver and still notice this girl. Then she does her signature move. One she perfected especially for the Winter Classics. One that the announcers won't stop raving about.

  And suddenly I’m glad I didn’t get in on that cheeseburger when my stomach pitches. Because again, I caught myself checking out my ex-friend’s little sister.

  “Come on. Let's go get a beer.” I knock Dax's shoulder, but he doesn't budge.

  Dax swallows his last mouthful of burger. “You're going to have to face her eventually. Now that the Winter Classics are coming up we’re going to be around the women’s team more often,” he says, zipping his coat. “If I were you, I'd be searching for the quickest way to get her out of those snow pants.”

  I roll my eyes. As if. “I don't need her shitty attitude today.”

  I unhook the straps of my board, step out and start walking toward the lodge.

  “You're never a pussy, what's the deal?” Dax follows behind.

  “Nothing, I've seen her, okay? It’s not like I’ve gotten through these past few years without seeing her. I just prefer not to.” Why am I even explaining myself? Dax should get it.

  He shrugs. “If I leave this slope, coach will be slapping my ass…and not in a good way.”

  I forgot that Dax got in trouble for having more fun than training last week and that his qualifier event got delayed until tomorrow.

  “Shit. Go.”

  “I'll meet you in the bar in twenty minutes.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Twenty minutes and coach will still have your ass. I'll catch up to you tonight.”

  My gaze veers to the halfpipe, seeing Mia at the bottom, smiling and laughing with some girl I don't know.

  “We could double date.”

  I snap my eyes back to Dax. “Go!”

  He holds his hands up in the air, heading to the far chairlift.

  “There you are,” the high-pitched voice of my agent slaps me on the back. Not that I'm complaining about the new sponsor I acquired last week because of her.

  “Hey, Candice, I was just heading out.”

  She's bundled up in her snow gear. Boots, tight ass jeans and a long coat. A USA hat and glove set she obviously just bought, not vibing with the rest of her designer outfit.

  “No, you're not. We have a late lunch meeting this afternoon.”

  I rack my brain for a second. I would remember a meeting since I had plans of being on the slopes all day. “I don’t have anything on the schedule.”

  “It's an impromptu one. I worked some magic and I think you'll be happy to hear what I got for my two top clients.” She pulls out her tube of ChapStick, unable to take the cap off with her gloved hands, but she keeps trying anyway.

  I take the ChapStick from her and pop the cap off. “Thanks.” She coats her lips again. “I've never been this dry in my entire life.”

  “Two top clients?” I ask, dreading her answer.

  “Yeah, you and Mia Salter. Now come on, she's meeting us at the restaurant.”

  Candice pulls on my arm, but my feet stay planted to the ground. She's got to be kidding me. Mia and me sharing a table? We'll be lucky to make it past drinks. Does she think because we cordially made it down the hill yesterday that means we're cool with one another?

  “How long has Mia been your client?” My boots click on the concrete pathway to the lodge.

  “Well,” she says, waiting for me to catch up. “Mia was my first sports client.”

  I think for a moment, if Candice got Mia to hold all those companies on her board and the sponsorship with one of the biggest brands, I guess my cousin Jagger picked the right person to represent me. I shouldn’t make waves and fuck it up.

  “I have to change, I'll meet you there in fifteen.”

  She nods, pulling out her ChapStick again as she stares over at the slopes. “Sounds good. I'll order you a water.”

  “If Mia Salter is at the table, you can order me a vodka tonic and leave the bottle at the table.”

  She purses her lips and shakes her head. “You two need to learn to get along.”

  I ignore her, heading into the lodge.

  It’ll be a cold day in hell before Mia forgives me for what I’ve done.

  * * *

  I walk into Warm ‘N Toasty, the comfy log cabin restaurant with a large double-sided fireplace nestled in the middle and comfy leather booths lining the outside edges of the room. It's the go-to for most of the riders because of its proximity to the chairlifts and loose dress code.

  Though, Dax might’ve forced the owner’s hand when he showed up last year in only his boxer briefs. To his defense, it was an unseasonably warm winter day. The girls weren't complaining.

  My eyes scan the room until I spot Candice's arm up in the air, waving me over, while a sour looking Mia sits across from her. I weave through the tables, fist-pumping and high-fiving a few fellow boarder’s hands. They all study where I'm going with curiosity when I don’t stop to chat.

  Mia has one yoga pant clad leg propped up on the edge of the bench and a slice of pickle an inch from being devoured into her mouth.

  “Ladies,” I say, shrugging off my coat and hanging it on the hooks between the booths.

  I slide in on the other side of the booth next to Candice. Mia doesn't even so much as glance in my direction.

  “I got you a water.” Candice eyes the tall bottle of water on the table in front of me.

  “Thanks.” I snap the seal open, downing a hefty gulp, my gaze trained on Mia the entire time.

  She bites off a piece of the pickle, showing her teeth like she’s a guard dog who’s cornered me. When she’s done chewing, she brings her drink to her lips and sips it.

  I turn my attention back to Candice. “So, are we celebrating something?” I ask.

  “Great idea.” Candice raises her hand to flag down the waitress.

  The red-haired waitress, Natalie, stops at the edge of our table, an array of empty hot chocolate mugs on her tray. “Hey Rogue,” she says and then looks across the booth from me. “Mia.” Her eyes widen and she does a double take at the both of us.

  Yeah, you got it right. Grady Kale and Mia Salter are sitting at the same table together.

  “What can I get you?” she grants Candice her undivided attention.

  “I need a bottle of champagne.”

  “I don't drink champagne,” I mumble.

  “Me either,” Mia murmurs.

  Candice's attention moves from me to Mia and then back to Natalie. “Well, I do. Just a glass then.”

  “I'll grab that for you now.” Her hand lands on the edge of the table, pausing for a second. “Rogue, do you want anything else?”

  Mia scoffs, but when my gaze shoots in her direction, she pretends to concentrate on her Bloody Mary.

  “Um...yeah, Nat, can you grab me an Amstel?”

  Nat's knuckles knock the wood table. “Sure thing.”

  She's a good distance away before Mia's gaze stops following her. She has to know Nat, she's the owner’s daughter and one of Mia's biggest fans.

  “Surprise, surprise, another female who caters to Grady.”

  Candice ignores Mia’s snide comment. “What's up with the Rogue thing?” she asks, sipping her mix drink.

  Mia snickers, twirling her celery around in her drink. “That’s what they call him because he only cares about himself.” She looks across the table, daring me to argue with her.

  “How’s that?” Cand
ice asks, a little warily.

  I bet she knows for sure now that having both of us as clients is a bad idea.

  “My friends started calling me that when I was younger because of the tricks I’d do. I’d try stuff no one else would dare to.” My eyes bore over at Mia, but apparently her drink is still more interesting than me because she can’t meet my gaze. “I set myself apart.”

  “More like you isolated yourself. I think your nickname should be changed to Ogre.” She laughs to herself, pulling the piece of celery from her drink, smiling to herself.

  “Okay, you two. I know there's history, but we have to remain professional,” Candice says.

  “Ogre, huh? I don't think you were staring at me yesterday like I was Shrek.”

  Nat comes back, placing a glass of champagne in front of Candice and a beer down in front of me. I lift the bottle to my lips as Nat slides a plate of pickles, celery, olives and a pepperoni stick in front of Mia.

  “Thanks, Nat.” She grabs the pepperoni stick and chomps down on it aggressively. “I love biting down on a good piece of meat.”

  Nat glances to me and then hurries off to help some other customers. I wish I could go with her.

  “There wouldn't be a problem if you kept us in our assigned corners,” I say to Candice.

  “Unfortunately, that's not a possibility. Why do you think I'm celebrating?” She lifts her champagne.

  Mia's foot falls to the floor and she lets the celery plop back down into her glass then leans forward, fixing her eyes on Candice.

  I swivel in my seat, giving Candice all my attention.

  “What exactly are you celebrating?” I ask.

  Candice's smoky grey eyes move between the two of us and then she plasters on the fakest smile I've ever witnessed, and I've seen many. “You were both chosen to represent the snowboarding team on a press tour. Yay!”

  Mia leans back in the booth, downing the rest of her Bloody Mary. “Not going to happen.”

  Once again, Mia Salter and I see eye-to-eye about something.