“It’s not broken.” She fixed a glare on the paramedic. “You have the stuff, or should I text his family and ask them to go to Walgreens?”
“It’s not up to me.” The paramedic looked to Luke. “What do you want to do?”
Luke’s eyes found Charlotte’s. “What’s your plan?”
“My plan is to Mr. Miyagi this shit and get you into the final.” She started palpating his ankle, looking for the worst damage. “Then I plan to punch Tucker in the throat.”
Luke burst out laughing, but it quickly turned into a yelp. “Jesus, what was that?”
Charlotte gave his ankle another, gentler, prod. When he winced again, she nodded. “I also need two Ace bandages.”
The paramedic rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”
“Not right now,” she said sweetly, before dropping her expression into a commanding glare. “Now where’s my ibuprofen?”
The paramedic jumped. “I’ll…go check my kit.”
He scrambled out of the tent, leaving her alone with Luke. He’d been biting his lip, but as soon as the paramedic cleared the flap, he howled with laughter. “Oh my God. His face! You are going to make one hell of a doctor. I can just see you arguing with some arrogant surgeon, putting him in his place. I hope I’m there to see it.”
A smile tugged at her mouth, and Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh, too, despite the situation. “I’m mad at Tucker, and I took it out on that poor guy.”
“Maybe, but the medic was being a condescending prick, so well done.” Luke pushed himself up against the pillows. “How bad is it really?”
She stared down at the ankle, then dug through her purse. Her emergency Advil was at the bottom, and the paramedic still hadn’t come back. She shook out four tablets and grabbed a water bottle from the cooler on the floor of the tent. “Prescription dose. It’ll bring some of the swelling down.”
The paramedic returned with a plastic tub full of supplies. “Everything should be here. I’d be remiss if I didn’t strongly suggest he go to the hospital.”
“The final is in two hours. The ER wouldn’t even see him by then.” Charlotte shot the guy a dark look. “Thanks, but I’ve got this.”
The paramedic shrugged and went back outside. Shaking her head, Charlotte cracked a few cold packs and shook them to activate the cooling agent inside. After stealing a pillow from the other cot to prop Luke’s ankle up higher, she stuffed the cool packs around it.
“Char, I appreciate all this, but…you didn’t answer my question. You told me I was reckless for wanting to race after my concussion. Am I being reckless now?”
Luke’s gaze was steady, but she could see the frustration tucked away. It hurt to think about him missing his shot, and she was not going to give up without a fight. Maybe it was a little reckless, but he was strong, and she was good at wrapping ankles. If anyone could make this happen, it was the two of them, together.
Charlotte held his gaze. “It’s bad, but I’ve seen worse on football players who went back in. I’m going to tape and bandage it up tight. If you lace your bindings as far as they’ll go after that, maybe we can stabilize the ankle enough to handle the course.” She sighed. “Do you want to go to the ER? That would be the smartest thing, and all I’m going on is past experience.”
He reached for her hand. “I trust you.”
Charlotte felt warmth steal up through her middle. “Good, because I can do this. You’re going to be in the final, and that’s a promise.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Luke
Parker stuck his head inside the tent, looking worried. “Bro, you okay?”
Luke didn’t have a chance to answer before Charlotte waved him in, not even looking up from prewrapping Luke’s ankle. “I need you to pass stuff to me. Grab the white tape and scissors.”
Parker gave Luke a wide-eyed look, but knelt next to Charlotte and picked up the supplies. “What are we doing?”
“What does it look like?” she said, still intent on her work. “We’re putting an athletic wrap on his ankle.”
“You’re still racing?” Parker asked. He looked back at the tent flap. “Mom’s going to lose her mind.”
Luke closed his eyes. He could tell Charlotte was trying to be gentle, but his ankle throbbed. He believed her when she said it wasn’t broken, but damn it hurt. “I’m fine.”
“Tape,” Charlotte said.
Parker passed it to her, shaking his head. “You aren’t. But I get it. If it’s just a sprain, you only have one more heat.”
“The final heat,” Luke said. “This makes twice that little shit tried to knock me out of the competition, which means he thinks I’m scary. Which is pretty stupid, since he probably already has a lock on nationals. I lose more than he does if I come in third. Maybe that’s what’s in his head. And I’m not about to let him get the better of me.”
“Me, either,” Charlotte growled. “Plus, I’m filing a formal complaint against him with USASA. No one hurts my boyfriend and gets away with it.”
“I like her,” Parker told Luke. “But are you two sure about this?”
“Yep.” Charlotte ripped a piece of tape and made a stirrup from one side of Luke’s ankle, under the arch of his foot, and up to the other side. It was tight, but not too tight, and the pressure eased.
Luke’s shoulders relaxed. “See? All good.”
Parker handed Charlotte another roll of tape. “Okay, I’ll tell Mom it was a little strain and you’re having it wrapped. But don’t crash on your last run—I hate being a liar.”
“Deal.”
Parker gave Charlotte the last thing she needed from the tub and stood. “Hey, want me to go tackle the guy who slammed you? I’ll do it free of charge.”
Luke snorted. His brother could probably plow Tucker into a snowdrift and not even break a sweat. “Nah, beating him in the finals will do worse damage. Reassuring Mom is your job.”
Parker saluted and ducked outside the tent, calling, “He’s fine. Just fine. Not to worry.”
Charlotte wrapped a few more strips of tape around Luke’s ankle. “There. I want you to try to stand on it.”
He gingerly swung his feet to the tent floor, then stood slowly, most of his weight on his good foot. Charlotte stood next to him, her arm around his waist. “Okay, shift some onto the other foot.”
Luke held his breath and did as she asked. The ankle ached, but he could stand on it. “You’re amazing, Dr. Brown.”
She smiled. “Ditto. Now, let’s get you back into your boots. You have a race to run.”
“Ladies and gentlemen! The final race will begin in fifteen minutes. Competitors, please go to the gondola.”
The announcer’s voice bounced and echoed throughout the staging area. Michael gave Luke’s bindings one last pull. “Try it now.”
Luke slid back and forth on his board. His stance felt stiff, but his ankle held. It hurt like hell, but he only had to make it another seventeen minutes and he could take off the board. “Good to go.”
Michael stood and held out a hand. Luke shook it. His coach didn’t say anything, just nodded and pointed him toward the gondola. Luke skated over, choosing to ride up with his bad foot in its bindings rather than carrying the board like usual. When he climbed into the gondola, Kit gave him a fist bump.
“Can’t keep a good man down,” he said. “Too bad for Tucker.”
Luke nodded grimly. “I’m seeing this damn thing through.”
The fourth-place man, a guy named Scott, looked between them. “So the hit was intentional?”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “I have a brief, but ugly, history with Tucker. He’s not a fan.”
Tucker hopped onto the gondola and pulled the door shut. “No, I’m not. Too bad to see you here, Madison.”
“Shut up, Tucker,” Kit said. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough the last few weeks.”
“Keep saying that when I blast past you, old-timer. I bet you used up all your gas to get here, but I have so
me left in the tank.”
“More like hot air,” Luke said. “Like Kit said, shut the fuck up.”
They rode in icy silence the rest of the way to the top and filed to their gates without a word. The gate official gave them a suspicious look. “I want a clean race.” He trained his gaze on Tucker. “No messing around. I see anything illegal from up here, I’m radioing down.”
“Yes, sir,” they answered.
“All right, then. Let’s get started.” The gate official started the clock. “Sixty seconds.”
Luke tested his ankle. It was hurting worse now, but it was secure, and he knew it wouldn’t buckle. He just had to gut it out.
Next to him, Kit was sliding back and forth, getting ready for takeoff. So was Tucker. Luke didn’t want to risk jostling anything, so he settled into his riding stance, preparing to rely on his arms and shoulders to propel himself out of the gate.
“Ten seconds, nine, eight, seven…”
Luke took a deep breath and gripped the rails.
“Three, two…”
The horn sounded, and Luke yanked himself forward out of the gate. To his surprise, he came off the line faster and farther than the other three racers, hitting turn one first. His bad ankle shook a little, but Luke centered his core and softened his knees to take some of the impact from the rollers. Kit caught him into turn two, but at the kicker, Luke pushed hard into the jump and passed Kit in the air. They hit the rollers, and Luke’s ankle panged, slowing him down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tucker coming close on his other side.
They went into turn three almost even, three abreast, and got into a little jostling. Kit merely pushed off and ahead by a hair, but Tucker pushed harder than necessary. With a grim smile, Luke stuck fast and leaned, using his bodyweight to knock Tucker back a little. He couldn’t tell where Scott was, but all that mattered was the inch lead Kit had.
They went into the rollers, Tucker making up a little ground, but ahead, Kit slipped a touch and Luke came up even again. At turn four, Luke swung out to block Tucker and take the turn tighter, coming out ahead as they flew up the second kicker. Luke soared past Kit in the air again and had the lead.
The rollers gave him more trouble this time, and Kit took advantage. He ran into turn five first, with Luke crouching low in a bid to catch up. A flicker of a shadow to his other side let him know Tucker wasn’t backing down.
At the last set of rollers, Luke gritted his teeth and took them faster than before. His ankle screamed, but he stayed ahead of Tucker. Kit had his biggest lead yet, though. It was going to take everything Luke had to catch up.
He leaned hard into the last turn, gaining a little bit of ground, but Tucker was gaining ground, too. Kit hit the kicker with a slight lead, with Luke and Tucker in a dead heat.
Come on, come on! Luke willed himself up the ramp, into the air. He was falling too fast, though, with Kit right next to him. Tucker had dropped back.
They landed, and there was a shout. A mass tumbled past them, sliding hard into the barrier at the side of the course—Tucker had wiped out on the landing.
Luke didn’t have time to think about it. He leaned into his board. It was risky to push his weight forward with a bum ankle, but the finish line was coming up fast. He crouched, seeing Kit do the same.
The blue line flew toward them, then they were past. Luke had no idea who’d won—they’d been right on top of each other. The crowd was going nuts, and Kit turned to grin at him. “It’s gonna be close.”
Luke’s chest was heaving. He barely managed a “Yeah” before he dropped to the snow. Michael and Charlotte came running over to strip off his board.
“We’ll ice it down and wrap it, then go to the ER as soon as this is over,” Charlotte said, helping Michael hoist Luke to his feet.
Another roar blasted through the crowd, and Kit was there, patting him on the back. “Congrats, man! Well done.”
“What?” Confused, exhausted, Luke looked up at the board.
He’d beaten Kit by five one-hundredths of a second.
Luke buried his face against Charlotte’s neck and laughed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Charlotte
Charlotte watched Luke doze on a couch in his family’s living room, his ankle propped on four pillows and a fresh ice pack resting against the bandage wrappings. He was worn out, and who could blame him? He’d beamed his way through the awards ceremony, and Charlotte had said a silent thank-you that Tucker hadn’t finished in the final. Everything had been perfect.
Now, though, after a trip to the ER, Luke had come home with a shiny new boot due to a bad sprain and orders to keep from training for two weeks. Michael had brushed off Luke’s eye rolling. “Nationals is two months from now. We have plenty of time. Get healthy.”
Charlotte had backed him up and driven Luke home, where his mother had fed them enchiladas and his dad had asked for a play-by-play. Now, his parents were in their room, and Parker had gone upstairs. Charlotte would have to leave soon, too, but she wasn’t ready.
Luke stirred. “Hey. Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah.” She stood and kissed him. “I need to get going. Do you want some help going upstairs?”
Luke’s smile was part sleepy and part suggestive. “I’d do anything to get you up to my room.”
“Easy there, tiger.” Slowly, she helped him swing his legs down, then stand, and walked him up the stairs, one step at a time.
When she finally had him settled in his own bed, she brushed the hair off his forehead. “You should get more sleep. I promise I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You will, because Parker and Zoey are driving me to the café,” Luke said. “Mr. Bzdyl said something about dinner, too. I feel bad for missing it.”
“You didn’t. They postponed it so you could go to the hospital. We’ll do it in a few days. Kit’s planning to stay in Aspen to train.” Charlotte chuckled. “He seems to have found a reason to stay here.”
Luke’s expression turned serious. “How about you? Do you have a reason to stay in Aspen?”
“You’re stuck with me the next eighteen months.” Charlotte knelt by the couch. “I take my MCAT in a few weeks, and even if I pass, I won’t start school until a year from August. Besides, I’m thinking about looking into a few more schools.”
“Which ones?” Luke asked, his eyes hopeful.
“Colorado looks pretty good. Dr. Sloane told me he’s looking for an intern down the road, and working in the sports side of neurology sounds fun. It’s not what I had planned, but…I’ve changed. Colorado has grown on me.”
And what her mother had said had stuck, too. About her life being worth living, and about staying true to your own heart. Charlotte still wanted to study medicine, but she was pretty good at treating athletes. Besides, she had a feeling that staying close to Luke was where she belonged.
He was smiling up at her. “Is it just Colorado that grew on you?”
“Not just Colorado. I seem to have developed a taste for SBX. Those guys are pretty sexy, you know.”
Luke cupped her cheek. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because I’ve developed a taste for smart, gorgeous medical-school hopefuls.”
Charlotte leaned in to kiss him. “Hmm, seems like we’re a match.”
Epilogue
Charlotte
March 31
“A bit of a surprise field here in the SBX National finals. Tucker Sommers, a previous hopeful to take the crown from reigning champ and legend, Kit Morgan, was suspended from the sport for a year after an incident at a competition at Steamboat last month,” the announcer on the TV at the resort bar said. “Now, we’re seeing the emergence of a new phenom, Luke Madison. He’s set to race…”
Evangeline pulled Charlotte away from the bar. “Watching that makes me too nervous.”
It made Charlotte nervous, too, but it was like a magnet. The fact that Luke was second going into the final meant he’d already made the U.S. men’s team. Now he was racing for poi
nts toward the World Cup tour.
“We better go. They’ll start soon.”
Charlotte and Evangeline pushed out into the crisp March air and headed for the main lift to take them up to the spectator area. The guys had scored VIP tickets, giving their girls a great view of the Copper Mountain course.
“Kit invited me to go to Chile with him next month,” Evangeline said, looking shy. “For the next FIS race.”
Charlotte smiled. “That’s a big step, international travel. Anything I need to know? Any jewelry in your future?”
“Not yet, I don’t think. But one can dream.” Evangeline bit her lip. “I’ll be gone two weeks. Can you look after my parents and the café for me?”
“Sure. Luke’s not planning any trips on the tour until summer. Australia, I think. We can trade off.” Charlotte drummed her fingers against her leg. It had been a fantastic four days, but her throat was screamed raw from cheering and her nerves were frayed to the breaking point.
Her phone buzzed. She checked the screen. “It’s your dad.”
“I always knew he liked you more than me,” Evangeline said, smiling.
Another text came in—this time with a picture—and Charlotte’s stomach jolted. “He’s holding an envelope.”
Evangeline snatched the phone. “It’s your MCAT results. Tell him to open it.”
Charlotte waved a hand that her friend took as a yes, and Evangeline typed a response. She tried to hand the phone back, but Charlotte pushed it away. “You look.”
She closed her eyes, not sure she wanted to know. The practice tests had gone steadily better, but she’d still been so nervous. She’d doubted herself on several questions, and had started an application for PA school at Colorado, hiding her disappointment from everyone.
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