by Ana Huang
“Don’t insult me. I’m a billionaire,” he said. “But if you have that little faith in your skiing ability…” He shrugged. “We can call it off.”
I scowled. I hated his reverse psychology bullshit, yet I always fell for it. “I have plenty of faith in my athleticism, desk jockey.” I held out my hand. “It’s a deal.”
Alex let out a soft laugh, unperturbed by the desk jockey insult. He made a shit ton of money sitting behind his desk, so I guess I wouldn’t be bothered either if I were him.
He shook my hand with a competitive glint in his eyes. “Deal.”
And just like that, we were off.
We were both pros at skiing, so it didn’t take us long before we were flying down the hill.
We weren’t supposed to ski such a difficult run at such high speed, but neither of us had ever given a damn about such rules.
My stress from work, my tension with Alex, my disturbing new fixation with Jules....they all melted away as I entered my element.
Adrenaline pumped in my veins, fueled by the wind whipping against my face and the cold air stealing into my lungs. My heart was a wild animal uncaged, my senses sharpened blades that picked up on every detail of the world around me—the flecks of snow spraying up at me, the whistle of the wind and the quiet roar of my heart, every bump and ridge as I tore down my first triple black diamond.
A black-clad figure whizzed by me.
Alex.
My face split into a grin as my competitiveness kicked up another notch. I drove pressure onto the tip of my outside ski and blew past him.
I thought I heard Alex laugh behind me, but the wind carried the sound away before it fully reached my ears.
I made a tight turn around a jutting rock, then another hairpin turn to follow the path of the run. Most people would freak out going this fast on a triple black, but for me, nothing beat the rush of escaping death by the skin of my teeth.
Between Ava’s near-drowning, my mom’s suicide, and the people I saved—and couldn’t save—in the emergency room, Death and I were old acquaintances. I hated the bastard, and every time I survived one of my escapades, it was a metaphorical fuck you to the reaper.
One of these days, he would catch me as he did everyone else. But not today.
More turns. More obstacles that, if I were a less experienced skier, would’ve landed me in the ER as a patient instead of a doctor. I took each one as they came, never slowing down, though I didn’t go quite as fast as I would on a normal slope.
Alex and I kept roughly the same pace until the end, when I beat him to the bottom of the trail by less than five seconds.
Satisfaction filled my lungs. “Looks like drinks are on you this weekend.” I pushed my goggles back up my head, my chest heaving with exertion. “Good thing you’re a billionaire with a b, because I’m asking the bartender for the most expensive drink they serve. Every time.”
“Not yet.” Alex narrowed his eyes. It was always hilarious seeing his reaction when he lost because it happened so infrequently. “Best out of three.”
“Changing the rules after the fact.” I tsked in disappointment. “You’re a sore fucking loser, Volkov.”
“I don’t lose.”
“What do you call what just happened?” I gestured at the steep, winding trail behind us.
Rare mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Alternative winning.”
“Oh, fuck off with that bullshit.” But I couldn’t help laughing.
Since I wasn’t one to ever turn down a challenge, I agreed to the best of three, though I regretted it when Alex beat me by a minute on the second run.
The third run was even closer than our first. We were literally neck to neck until the last second, when I pulled ahead by a hair.
A smug grin bloomed on my face, and I opened my mouth before Alex cut me off.
“Don’t say a word,” he warned.
“Wasn’t going to.” My expression said it all.
“Don’t feel bad.” I clapped him on the back as we walked back to the lodge for dinner. “There’s no shame in alternative winning. Just ask any silver medalist.”
“I don’t feel bad. If I do, I’ll just buy myself a gold medal. Twenty-four karats, Cartier.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Always.”
I shook my head with a laugh. I hadn’t hung out with Alex in so long I’d forgotten how fucked up his sense of humor was, though I was one of the few people who even considered it humor. Most people chalked his deadpan deliveries up to him being a dick, which…well, fair enough. Ava used to call him a robot—
My smile disappeared.
Ava. Michael. Kidnapping and secrets and thousands of lies that tainted every memory of our friendship.
That afternoon had been our closest to normal in a long time, and I’d almost forgotten why Alex and I were no longer friends.
Almost.
Alex must’ve picked up on the shift in atmosphere because his smile faded alongside mine and his jaw visibly tightened.
Tension descended like an iron curtain between us.
I wished I could forget what happened and start over. I had plenty of friends, but I’d only ever had one best friend, and sometimes I missed him so damn much it hurt.
But I wasn’t the same person I was two years ago, and neither was Alex. I didn’t know how to move on no matter how much I wanted to. Every time I made progress, the yoke of the past yanked me back like a jealous mistress.
And yet, our ski competition proved Alex and I could act normal around each other even when Ava wasn’t there. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.
“I had a good time today,” I said stiffly, testing the waters for myself as much as for Alex.
A beat passed before he responded. I’d surprised him again. Twice in one day—that had to be a record. “I did too.”
We didn’t speak again after that.
13
JOSH
Jules was absent again at dinner, but since I didn’t want to invite any further questions from Alex about why I was so concerned about Jules—which I wasn’t; I was merely curious—I waited until we returned to our cabin before grilling Ava.
“What’s wrong with JR?” I kept my voice low.
Alex had disappeared into their bathroom for a shower, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had supersonic hearing.
Ava chewed on her lower lip
“Ava.” I pinned her with a stern stare. “If she’s going to die on me in the middle of the night, I need to know so I can plan my sleep accordingly.”
“Funny.” She glanced at the closed door. “Okay, I’m only telling you because you’re a doctor. Also, because it got worse this afternoon but she’s too stubborn to ask for help.”
My earlier seed of worry blossomed into a full fucking tree, leaves and all. “What got worse?”
My sister hesitated before saying, “Jules has really…painful periods. Beyond regular cramps. The pain usually goes away after a day or so, but during that day…”
“It’s unbearable,” I finished. A hard knot formed in my chest. “Endometriosis?”
Most women experienced primary dysmenorrhea, or common menstrual cramps. Secondary dysmenorrhea, such as endometriosis, was the result of reproductive organ issues and was usually far more excruciating.
Ava shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I don’t want to speak for Jules. She doesn’t like talking about it.”
“Understood.”
There was a societal stigma regarding periods, and a lot of people, men and women alike, were uncomfortable discussing them.
After years of med school and residency, I had no problem discussing any bodily function, but I wouldn’t bring something up if the other person didn’t want to talk about it.
“Lay off the insults tonight, all right?” Ava gave me a pointed stare. “She’s not in the mood.”
“I’m not a monster, little sis.” I ruffled her hair, earning myself a scowl. “Don’t worry.”
> After Ava turned in for the night, I stopped outside my room and rapped my knuckles against the door in case Jules was indecent. No answer.
I waited another beat before I opened the door with a quiet creak. The lamp was on, and I immediately zeroed in on Jules’s curled-up form. She lay in a fetal position on her side, hugging a pillow to her stomach. I couldn’t see her face, but I saw her stiffen at my entrance.
Still awake.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Just a stomachache,” she mumbled.
I closed the distance between us until we were face to face, and my chest pinched again when I noticed her shallow breaths and the white-knuckled grip strangling her pillow.
“Did you take any ibuprofen? I have some.” I always carried a mini first aid kit with bandages, painkillers, and other essentials.
“Yep.” Jules peered up at me with a scrunched brow. “Ava told you, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.” There was no point in lying.
She groaned. “I should’ve told her not to say anything.”
“Pretty sure I would’ve noticed something was wrong when I saw you curled up like a deformed shrimp.”
It didn’t count as an insult if I was trying to make her feel better. It gave her the perfect opportunity to snark back, and arguing with me always perked her up.
My smile faded when she didn’t respond.
Okay, maybe the deformed shrimp comment wasn’t as helpful as I thought.
Should I try to help her, or should I leave her alone? There wasn’t a foolproof method for alleviating severe cramps, and she’d already taken ibuprofen, but there were other remedies that might help.
The question was whether or not she wanted my help.
I made up my mind when Jules winced and clutched her pillow closer to her abdomen, her face screwed with pain.
Fuck it. I was helping her whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t like I could sleep next to her knowing she was in agony. I wasn’t that much of an asshole.
I walked into the bathroom and scanned the amenities lined up on the marble counter. When we dropped off our luggage, I could’ve sworn I saw—aha. I picked up the tiny bottle of lavender oil and returned to Jules’s side.
“I might be able to help with the cramps,” I said. “Turn over.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.” I held up my free hand when she opened her mouth. “Yes, I know. You don’t trust me. But I am a trained medical professional, and I promise I don’t have nefarious intentions. So unless you want to toss and turn all night…”
“Trained medical professional, yet your bedside manner could use major work.” Nevertheless, she did as I asked and shifted positions so she lay on her back.
“I’ve never had any complaints before.” I sat next to her on the bed and placed the pillow to the side. I nodded toward the hem of her shirt. “May I?”
Wariness etched onto Jules’s face, but she acquiesced with a short nod.
I lifted her shirt, baring her stomach, before I uncapped the oil and warmed a few drops in my hands. It was made for baths, but it’d serve as a massage oil in a pinch.
I swept my palms over her abdomen and rubbed gentle circles before easing into more targeted kneading. I wasn’t a licensed massage therapist, but I’d picked up on the basics and a few tricks over the years.
Jules’s muscles tensed at my initial touch, but as the minutes passed, they gradually relaxed.
“That’s it,” I murmured. “Deep breaths. How do you feel?”
“Better.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “You’re good at this.” It came out equal parts grudging and admiring.
“I’m good at everything.” A smile ghosted my mouth at her scoff.
We fell into a comfortable silence as I continued my massage. Jules’s skin was soft and warm beneath my touch, and her breathing evened out into a steady rhythm.
I stole a glance at her face. Her eyes were still closed, so I allowed myself to linger on the sweep of the dark lashes against her cheeks, the lush curve of her bottom lip, and the silken fan of her coppery hair splayed out on her pillow. Her brow was no longer scrunched with pain, and the knot in my chest loosened.
It was my first time seeing Jules so unguarded. It was…unnerving. I was so used to our bickering I’d never given much thought to what she was like behind all the fire and brashness.
How do you know I haven’t already?
My family wasn’t big on skiing. We didn’t have the money for it even if we were.
Jules has really…painful periods. Beyond regular cramps.
I’d known Jules for years, yet I knew so little about her. Her family, her history, her secrets, and her demons. What was she hiding beneath that fiery exterior? Something told me it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
I shifted my attention back to the task at hand and tried to reign in my wandering thoughts. “Feel better?” The words came out strangely husky.
“Mmhmm.” Jules’s drowsy affirmation elicited another smile.
My gaze drifted upward again, and heat curled low in my stomach when I saw her staring at me with a lazy, slumberous expression.
Her lips parted slightly as our eyes locked. Held. Burned.
Electricity charged the previously tranquil air and danced over my skin, which suddenly stretched too tight over my bones and thundering heartbeat.
Jules’s breathing turned erratic again. Not only could I hear her rapid inhales and exhales, I could feel them beneath my hands, and they matched the uneven rhythm of my own breaths.
She licked her lips, and God himself wouldn’t have been able to stop the X-rated images flooding my brain. Those full, pouty lips wrapped around the head of my cock, that delicate pink tongue licking up and down my length while she stared up at me with her big hazel eyes…
My hands stilled and curled into loose fists. There was no use pretending I was still giving her a massage. The only thing I could focus on was the erection straining against my zipper and hiding said erection from Jules.
It was so fucked up. She was in pain, and here I was, hard as a rock. Proof that the body and mind were incompatible more often than not.
But Jules didn’t quite look like she was in pain anymore. Instead, she was looking at me like…
Don’t go there.
“You should be good for now.” I cleared my throat of its rasp before speaking again. “I’ll bring out a warm compress so you can use it through the night.”
I stood and walked into the bathroom before she could respond, angling my body so she couldn’t see the severely ill-timed tent in my pants. By the time I came back out with the towel compress, Jules was already fast asleep.
Relief and disappointment coursed through me in equal measure.
I placed the folded towel gently on her stomach and moved her hands on top of it to prevent it from sliding off. I pulled the comforter up, turned off the lamp, and stepped into the bathroom once again, where I turned the water on full blast and let it pound the tension out of my muscles.
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to make sense of the events of the past fourteen hours.
That morning, Jules and I had traded insults like normal, but over the course of the day, I’d willingly taught her how to ski, worried over her well-being, and given her a fucking aromatherapy massage. Not to mention, I was still harder than a steel pipe.
What the hell is happening to me?
Instead of giving in to the urge to take care of my situation downstairs, I finished my shower and changed into sweatpants.
I couldn’t jerk off to Jules, not when she was sleeping in the other room and I didn’t even like her. Then again, lust and like weren’t always a package deal.
I climbed into bed, making sure to stay as far away from her as I could, and tried to fall asleep, but my damn brain wouldn’t shut off.
Jules. Alex. Michael’s letters. Jules. My fucking erection that won’t fucking go away. Jules.
; My cock pulsed harder, and a low groan rose in my throat.
This was going to be a long night.
14
JULES
I woke up to the faint scent of lavender and the heavy weight of a muscled arm draped over my waist. I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up with a guy in my bed. I usually didn’t do sleepovers.
The arm was nice, though. Strong, solid, and comforting, like it could protect me from anything, and it belonged to someone who smelled amazing.
I issued a soft sigh of contentment and snuggled closer to the owner of the arm. I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t quite ready to leave my comfy nest and face reality yet.
The arm tightened around my waist and pulled me closer to him until my back pressed flush against his torso. My lips curved of their own accord when he let out a drowsy masculine rumble and buried his face in my neck. Meanwhile, heat bloomed low in my stomach at the way the hard, sculpted lines of his body molded against my softer ones.
Who was he? Did we have sex last night?
My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet, and sifting through my memories of the past twenty-four hours seemed too daunting of a task this early in the morning.
I stretched and grazed something soft and fluffy. I cracked one eye open out of curiosity and spotted a folded hand towel on the bed next to me.
What was I doing with a towel in—
Vermont. Room mix-up. Ski lessons. Period. Josh. Massage.
My brain finally woke up, and the highlights from yesterday bombarded me at breakneck speed.
My eyes fully popped open. If Josh and I had to share a room, that meant the arm…
“Aaaah!” I threw him off and scrambled out of bed, banging my shin against the nightstand in my haste.
One day, I would look back and wince at my undignified scream, but all I could focus on right now was the fact that I’d slept with Josh Chen. Only literally, thank God, but still.
“Jesus.” He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. The sheets slipped down, revealing his bare, muscled chest. “It’s too early for your banshee impressions, Red.”