The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  I debated whether or not to ignore her, but in the end, I knew she wouldn’t leave until she’d made her dig or her point or whatever the hell was her fancy today.

  “Andrea,” I greeted her with a voice that was as clear and cold as ice but I didn’t turn. “How’s your knee?”

  I didn’t care how her knee was. I did, however, like to remind her that she was the one to ruin her own career, tampering with her skis and then trying to fucking pin in on me.

  “In perfect condition to finally take the gold from you,” she replied, and I could hear the slippery smile in her voice.

  She was delusional. And I made that assessment honestly and without any personal bias—even after everything she’d done to me.

  Andrea Jensen had never been in the same league as me when it came to the events we competed in. She’d just made it into the professional scene about a year before the sabotaging incident. She was good—she’d have to at least be that to be a professional athlete. But in that time, she’d only barely managed to crack the top five before she’d injured her knee and had to take time off.

  I didn’t know who or what had ever planted the idea in her head that she was going to beat me—Actually, I did; she thought because she could take Evan from me, that meant the gold would be just as easy.

  I saw her looming in the periphery the past year and a half, working her way back up to competing against me. Now, she was closer to being in the top five but not because of her skill. Since her injury, four of the women who regularly ranked near the top with me had either been injured or retired from the sport. So, by default, her ranking had risen.

  But to say she was close to taking the gold from me would be like saying Miley Cyrus could upstage Mariah Carey.

  “Andrea, you know that’s never going to happen. Not before your injury and not now,” I said with a sigh, bored and wondering when this little antagonistic game of hers was going to end. “But if they were able to give out golds for the grandest delusions, you’d still be winning that.”

  She hummed and I knew I’d gotten under her skin. “You never know what can happen out on that mountain, Jax. Just look what happened with Evan…”

  The insinuation stung like a whip cracking against my spine. I bit into my tongue until I drew blood, ignoring her until she walked away with a low chuckle.

  Just once I wanted it to be socially, morally, and ethically acceptable for me to put that woman in a choke hold. Maybe the lack of oxygen would set her brain to rights.

  I hazarded a glance at Marissa and felt my chest squeeze harder at the pain written on her kind face.

  If she wasn’t here, I would have said something else. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t ruin the memory of her brother that way.

  “Why does she do that?” she asked thickly.

  Marissa thought Andrea was talking about Evan’s catastrophic injury on the mountain; I knew she was talking about what happened before that—what Marissa couldn’t know.

  I let out a long exhale, wishing I could get rid of Andrea as easily as I did the air from my lungs.

  “Nothing better to do. No purpose. Psycho.” I popped the top off my travel mug to confirm that there was no more coffee left in the bottom. “Take your pick.”

  “I’ll take C, all of the above.”

  We both let out a small laugh, slowly breaking the cloud of negativity that had blown through.

  Not that I wanted to go back to this topic, but I needed to get Marissa’s mind off of what was just said, so I asked again, “Have I given you enough to reward me with your presence on Friday at this show?”

  She smiled and nodded. “You know, I heard Kyle is really good…”

  “Of course, he is. I expect nothing less from a fairy tale character,” I groaned. “We should get going.”

  She wrinkled her nose at me as we stood and collected our garbage from the table. “You know,” she added in a sing-song voice as we walked toward the door. “I won’t judge you for being more excited or—heaven forbid—enjoying yourself just a tad while we are there.”

  “You might not, but I would,” I muttered underneath my breath.

  If you ask any professional athlete, they will tell you that conditioning your body is half the battle—maybe less than half. The biggest impetus or hindrance to your performance is your mind. For almost my entire life I’d been training my mind to become stronger than my body.

  Mind over body.

  I needed to do better at keeping my mind in charge over my traitorous body and reckless heart.

  So, yes, I would judge myself if all it took was one drop-dead handsome, smooth-talking, heroic charmer to drown out my mind and put my body in control.

  In my fairy tale, charming was catastrophic.

  I SHOULD’VE LEFT AN HOUR ago.

  Checking my watch again, I was down to nine and a half hours of sleep and that was no good. I had no idea where this place was, but thankfully Marissa and Shawn had not only come along for the evening, but had offered to drive.

  Betty had totally tricked me into doing this. The last few days, I’d noticed her lack of reliance on her cane. That, combined with all her whispered remarks about how she couldn’t wait to hear Kyle singing classic Christmas songs—and how much she’d like to jingle his bells—I knew I’d been played. Couldn’t make it because of her hip, my ass… I huffed.

  Jaclyn Blanchard was a sucker.

  But I was determined to get payback. Yes. Payback on an eighty-nine-year-old woman for giving me a lame excuse to spend the night watching Prince Charming show off just another one of his many talents.

  He was good. Really good. I wish I could say that I was surprised.

  They played a mix of original songs and Christmas covers and, unlike most of the people in the pub, I didn’t need cocktails or a cold beer, I was getting drunk on him.

  The subtle sway of his body against the guitar as he played, the way his lips brushed over the mic as the voice that drove me insane magnified and was set to melody. I kept taking videos because it legitimized my stare and concealed my intoxication.

  He wasn’t always watching me, but it felt like no matter where he looked, his focus was only for me. It felt like even though his eyes were elsewhere, his body was still drawn toward mine. Each breath felt as though it were only inches from my skin. And it was the beat of his heart rather than the song that echoed in my ears.

  I crossed my legs, hoping to hold in the ache I should’ve been more prepared for. I didn’t miss the smirk that flicked over his lips when he noticed—a smirk that quickly disintegrated when I licked over my lips, adding to the shine of the gloss I’d put on.

  And that was the melody we wove underneath the songs the band played—the push and pull, highs and lows. The give and take of desire as it swelled deep inside me. No matter what I threw at him, he managed to harmonize, and it was really starting to become the most frustrating thing in the world.

  I took a sip of my seltzer water as the waitress came around and cleared the empty drink glasses from where Marissa and Shawn had been sitting. They’d left a few songs ago. I should’ve left with them. Instead, I mumbled off some excuse, ignoring Marissa’s raised eyebrow since I was clearly going to be staying out past my bedtime.

  Sorry, Danny.

  Thing was, I rode with them to the Pub. So, it was pretty clear that by staying, it was with the assumption I was either going to call a cab or Kyle was going to bring me home.

  And telling myself it was the former was pretty much a joke when it was going to be the latter.

  The pub began to thin out as more time passed, only a few people sitting around the bar that sat squarely in the middle of the space. The building was modeled after a vaulted log cabin, the center of the ceiling was the highest point, accessorized with giant wooden beams that were probably more for show than for support. On this side of the bar were the high-top tables and then an empty space by the stage, still somewhat crowded with fans of the Wanderers.

  Full or empt
y, I began to realize it made no difference when there was only one person there who I could see.

  Frozen on my throne in the corner, I sat out the remaining songs of the set, picturing far too often his body rubbing against me instead of his guitar, and his lips against mine instead of the mic. I didn’t move, didn’t reach for my phone to call the cab I’d promised myself. I sat and waited for him, my body thrumming with every person who left, every piece of equipment packed carefully into its case, until Kyle walked toward me, his jeans and ‘Wanderers’ tee hugging his body in ways that made my mouth painfully dry.

  “Hey.” He stopped in front of me, his eyes drinking in all the details that the lights on the stage blinded him to.

  “Hi.”

  The air hung between us, warm and thick like hot breaths in cool air.

  “You get Betty’s video?” His lips tipped in the smallest of smiles, as though he knew I could’ve been in and out in ten minutes with the video she wanted; instead, I’d stayed until the end of their show.

  “Several,” I said wryly. “This way she can’t finagle me into coming back for her.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Shit. I didn’t mean that he was bad.

  Double shit. Heat flooded my cheeks. I never blushed. Blushing meant warmth and there was only one thing that warmth did to ice. And I refused to melt.

  “No, you were actually really good,” I admitted and then, pursing my lips added, “But don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a soft chuckle, making my thighs squeeze tighter. “The other two left?”

  I glanced to the empty seats and then nodded.

  “I’m surprised you stayed,” he said softly, looking at his watch. “Figured this was past the pumpkin hour.”

  That won him a small smile. “Me too.”

  This wasn’t good. I could practically taste the cold little drops of moisture on each word as the wall I built around myself began to dissolve. “I should call a cab. I shouldn’t have stayed so long. My trainer is going to have my head.”

  He was, but truthfully, after a few days using the Hydroworx, I was performing a lot better on the slopes. It definitely wasn’t because using that gym meant I got to see Kyle three times more than the zero I was planning. And definitely not because I’d been looking forward to tonight all week.

  “You’re not calling a cab,” he bit out.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can drive you.”

  My spine straightened, immediately going into defense mode. “You don’t have to do that. I’m a big girl, I can most certainly call a cab.”

  My gasp was swallowed by his mouth as his lips crushed down on mine, his tongue demanding and possessive inside my mouth. If I hadn’t been staring at those lips for the past two hours, I swore I wouldn’t have given in quite so easily.

  “Jac, I don’t care how big or small you are,” he rasped against my mouth, biting my lower lip in between words. “I don’t care if you’re Navy SEAL or a fucking ninja. Hell, I don’t even care if you’re a Jedi and you’ve got a lightsaber holstered to your side, I’m not letting you get in a cab alone. So, you can sass me all you want but unless you’re planning on knocking me out, the only cab you’re getting in is the one in my truck, and that’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

  Feeling a thousand emotions I was afraid to describe, I blinked in shock as he stalked off to grab his gear and say goodnight to his bandmates.

  I didn’t know why I argued with him. I didn’t want to argue with him, but this was me. Independent. Alone. I didn’t rely on anyone, especially a man, because the last time that happened, Evan had turned me into the kind of person I despised and then went and betrayed me for it.

  “Ready?”

  I was sorely tempted to knock him out just for the hell of it, but I really needed him to kiss me again and those things were mutually exclusive.

  With a nod, I stood, my black leather pants from the first night we met sticking slightly to the faux leather cushion. I’d opted for another Star Wars tee that I knotted in front of my stomach to make it look vintage fashionable instead of the easy, comfortable pick that it was.

  He held the door open even with all the gear in his hands and let me walk out of the building first. My steps slowed sensing his gaze was on my ass. I wanted his gaze on my ass. I wanted his eyes everywhere because they felt like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a cool spring day and you can feel the heat immediately as it bloomed every cell to attention.

  I craved the warmth, no matter what it was doing to my frozen walls.

  He reached around me and grabbed the passenger door to hold it open and I couldn’t stop my mouth from smarting, “I know how to open a door.”

  He waited until I was seated before leaning partially through the frame to reply, “Never said you didn’t, Jac. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should—especially when you’re with me.”

  My mouth opened but the door closing had me shut it again.

  Whatever. He could have his Charming-complex, I thought with an eye-roll even as my heart thudded harder in my chest, enjoying far too much being around a man who wanted to take care of me.

  Evan had in the beginning. I mean, we’d been friends in the beginning so he always held doors for me and Marissa. Even when we started dating, things hadn’t changed much. But as I got better and he stayed the same, those gestures grew fewer and fewer.

  To be fair, I was training or traveling a lot for competitions. But only now did I realize that when we were together, he should have been more attentive, not less. Then, I chalked it up to being comfortably complacent after knowing him for so long.

  I turned my head to Kyle when I realized that we were both now sitting in a truck that was running but not moving.

  “Didn’t want to interrupt,” he explained, his eyes searching mine like he could see what I was thinking. “Where to?”

  My lips parted but Marissa’s address lodged in my throat.

  I didn’t want to go back to the apartment. I wanted more time with the man who insisted on holding my coat and driving me home and opening doors. I wanted one more night with Prince Charming before this whole spell ended.

  “I’m not giving you my address,” I said smoothly, running my palms over my thighs before crossing my arms in front of me. “In case you turn out to be a stalker.”

  “Me?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the one who made me take you to my apartment. You’re the one who showed up at my place of work. And you’re the one who was at my show tonight. Maybe you’re the stalker.”

  I glared at him, especially when I saw the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I should just give him the address now. I should, but I wouldn’t because I wasn’t ready to let go of this night I’d been thinking about all week.

  “Not a stalker,” I said, pretending to examine my teal nails. “Just unlucky.”

  He chuckled. “So, is this your way of forcing me to take you back to my place again?”

  “Oh no.” I shook my head. “I could show you what forcing you would be…”

  His deeper laugh was drowned out as he put the truck in gear and pulled out of the lot. Even though I’d only been to his apartment once, the roads there felt like they were engraved in my brain, like an address of sorts—the one I needed to remember in order to get home.

  “So, what do you do when you aren’t training or on the mountain?” he asked as we passed over the lamp-lit streets of Aspen, flurries trickling down from the sky.

  “Why? Wondering what my plans are once I retire?” I said it lightly, but the way he looked at me was anything but.

  “I’m not a reporter, Jac. I’m not asking to try to get the inside scoop on your life or your future. Just want to know about you, that’s all.”

  I shrunk back against the seat, knowing I had responded defensively. What else was I supposed to do? That’s all they ever wanted to know. Hobbies to try and speculate wha
t would happen to me when my career was over, anything to try and make me feel vulnerable, to remind me that I couldn’t keep the gold forever.

  If there was one thing I’d learned about the public, it was that their fascination to see you rise was only surpassed by their twisted desire to witness your fall.

  “I like to watch movies. Especially during the season, it’s easy… and doesn’t require me to leave the house.” I laughed, toying with the knot on my shirt. “I like to make juice, too. It’s allowed on my training diet, so I experiment. Sometimes, I pretend like I’m testing out different flavors to create a menu for my own juice bar.”

  “Jac’s Juice?” he asked with a smile.

  I snorted. “Something like that…”

  I had to turn away because the emotions that were rolling through me were so strong they almost made me nauseous. The movie thing wasn’t a big deal. Even juicing was a pretty benign topic. But I’d never told anyone about having my own place. I’d never really seriously thought about, it was just something random that passed through my mind as quickly as a snow shower while I was doing other things. I never thought it meant anything until I just shared it with him. Now I realized how often that thought had crossed my mind.

  “What about smoothies?” he asked, quirking up one side of his lip.

  I pretended to think for a moment. “I guess… I guess we could do smoothies, too.”

  He laughed and then so did I, our eyes meeting somewhere in the middle of something neither of us had been expecting.

  If my lip was made of thinner stuff, I would have chewed a hole through it in the last few minutes it took to navigate to the parking lot of Kyle’s building. He sent me a glare when I opened my own door to get out of the truck but still managed to grab all his gear and hold every other door that we encountered on the way up to the twelfth floor.

  It felt strange to see a place for the second time. My rule was always one night. And that meant one impression of the place before I forgot about it and moved on. This time, I noticed the same things as I did the last, but wondered about them more.

  “Where did you get your couch?” I asked as he walked into the spare room to unpack his guitar and speakers.