His Last Hill
Page 8
“Fine.” I walk backward to the couch, never taking my eyes off the TV screen, and sit down. Except I misjudge the distance and accidentally end up half sitting on McKenna. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been warned we get super close after being here together.” She laughs as I move, still not taking my eyes from the TV.
The racers line up and I immediately close my eyes. I just can’t do it again.
And I mean it this time.
I’m a horrible friend, er…girlfriend, but I can’t do it. There’s no way I’ll make it. My heart skips a beat. For real. I practice breathing through my nose. I’m more nervous for Cyrus than I was in my own race. The starting buzzer dings, but I only hear it from the television, still refusing to open my eyes.
“Oh God,” McKenna says and her body tenses beside me.
That’s never good. I crack open one eye, my hands folded in prayer.
Cyrus slides across the finish line milliseconds behind the Italian he’s racing.
“It’s okay.” McKenna grabs my hand. “It’s barely a late start.”
She’s right and yet she’s wrong. Any kind of loss is a huge deal to an athlete. It gets into your head and you start questioning yourself. Nothing good comes from being the second one across the finish line.
The course resets and each racer lines up again at the top. I resume the position. Butt on the couch, fingers and toes crossed, and eyes closed.
“He’s got this.” McKenna grabs my hand and I can tell her fingers are crossed as well.
She tenses, not saying a word, and I refuse to open my eyes. My body folds in on itself taking her with me in the fetal position while still sitting on the couch.
Come on, Cyrus.
Come on, Cyrus.
Come on, Cyrus.
A squint my eyes closed as tightly as possible, my head to my knees.
McKenna screams. She jumps up from the couch taking me with her by pulling on my hands. My eyes shoot open and I check the TV screen. Cyrus is at the bottom of the hill, team officials and his coach surrounding him with congratulations.
Cyrus won.
“We’ve at least got a silver, baby,” McKenna shouts directly in my face.
I’m as excited as she is and don’t even notice. “No, we’re going for the gold!”
The two of us, with our hands on each other’s shoulders, jump up and down in the middle of the room.
“Ladies, let’s try to control ourselves.” Dexler drags himself away from his golf cart and stands directly behind us. It sounds gruff, but there’s a smile on his face as he watches the activity on the TV.
“There she is,” Reagan says, pulling Marley through the room behind her. “Cyrus’ last run was amazing. Make sure and tell him good job for us.”
I nod my head and say things, pretending like I actually watched the race rather than sat with my head between my knees and my eyes closed.
“We came to see McKenna during the break. The story going around the lodge is that Isaac had Cyrus arrested.” Reagan waits for McKenna and me to sit back on the couch and then she perches herself on the armrest.
“Yeah, give us the gossip.” Marley sits on the other side. “Something needs to be done about that man.”
McKenna flits her eyes between the three of us. “Guys, you know I can’t tell you.”
“No,” Reagan says. “You can’t tell other people, but you can trust us. We’re trustworthy, right girls?” She nods her head, her eyes wide, daring us to disagree.
Marley and I both confirm we’re the most trustworthy people in the world.
“All I can say is that Isaac is under investigation for fraud.”
Fraud?
Memories of what Asbell said on the phone about paperwork comes to mind. I wonder if Isaac tried to forge paperwork with someone else’s signature on it?
“Come on. You have to give us more than that,” Reagan pleads.
“Look at that. On the TV.” McKenna points of the television set, but nobody’s buying it.
“McKenna…” Reagan tilts her head, not even looking the right direction.
“No, I’m serious. Look.” McKenna points using her whole hand this time.
Marley stands from the couch. “What the heck?”
It’s finally enough to get me to look too. On the television screen, a large red bar flashes across the bottom. “The finals for the parallel giant slalom have been delayed thirty minutes” flashes in white lettering.
“What the heck?” I stand next to Marley.
It’s too hard to hear the announcer speaking over the noise level in the room. Finally, someone hands Dexler, who I had forgotten was standing behind us, the remote to the television. He turns up the volume until it’s almost too loud.
“It looks as if the officials are bringing in a completely new gate.” A male reporter standing in front of the starting area shouts into his microphone to the person sitting behind the large anchor desk.
“Thank you, Paul. If you’re just tuning in, it appears the trigger mechanism has been lodged open during the last semifinal race. Officials are working now to bring in the new gate and have the appropriate test done before they continue with the final runs in the parallel giant slalom race. Estimated time to completion is thirty minutes and then we’ll be right back here to bring you the excitement of the finals.” The television screen cuts to a commercial.
“I guess we have some tim,” Marley says taking her spot back up on the couch. “Does anybody want a soda or some bacon?”
I turn and see the three of them, women brought together by the Golds. We’re here for different reasons and come from different walks of life, but these are the Winter Games. They brought us together and gave us a shared bond. It really is truly amazing. I don’t drink pop or eat bacon. At least if my mother is in the same country. She’d notice with her crazy mom radar and hunt me down, but sitting here and spending an afternoon chatting would be fun. I don’t get near enough girl time in my life.
But Cyrus has a thirty-minute break and when you’re sitting in a small control room waiting to compete in the biggest race of your life, thirty minutes sounds like thirty years. I’d much rather be with him.
“I’m going out to see if they’ll let me into the control room,” I say as I button up my coat. “I’ll see you ladies later.”
“Good luck,” they say in unison. I’m not sure if it’s so I can make it to the control room or good luck for Cyrus, but either way it’s nice. I need to hang out with them more. I could use some more girlfriends.
The control room looms at the top of the hill. It’s a small area where electricians check the equipment, news reporters hang out when it’s cold, and in situations like this they house a few athletes while they wait. There’s not an easy way to get there from where I am currently, but I push open the exit door and start my way up the hill.
I find him staring out the large glass door at the entrance when I reach the top of the mountain. He opens the door and meets me the last few feet.
We hug. “I’m so proud of you, Cyrus. You’ve got this.”
“When I win gold you have to move in with me. Promise?”
I laugh, stepping out of our hug. “Okay.”
He’s absolutely crazy. There is no way I’m moving with him. But you never make a bet with an athlete right before they compete. This is his last run. He’ll face the winner of the last race to determine who wins gold or silver. Either way it doesn’t matter to me. We’re walking away from this a couple.
And apparently two people who live together when we return home if I let him have it his way. Although I’m beginning to like his break down the wall and have a big kitchen idea.
The door to the control room opens and an official in a black suit motions Cyrus to come back inside.
“I’ll see you at the finish line,” he says before turning away.
“I love you, Cyrus,” I yell to his back.
He turns, smiling deeply. “I love you, Charlie.
”
With those final words. Not ones of good luck or you’re going to win or great job, but words that mean so much more, I turn and walk back down the hill. Hopeful there are three girls sitting on the couch waiting for me when I get there.
The full two weeks of the Gold Medal Winter Games aren’t quite over yet, but regardless I’ve had the best time of my life. My first silver medal, making Cyrus my boyfriend, moving in together, and meeting an awesome trio of women. Regardless of what happens in the next few minutes, Cyrus and I are going home winners.
**Keep reading to find out whether Cyrus brings home a silver or gold medal in the Winter Games. The series concludes with McKenna and Oliver in His Last Love. **
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A note from the author:
Thank you for reading HIS LAST HILL. I hope you enjoyed Cyrus and Charlie’s story. You can purchase the rest of the series from my website.
GOLD MEDAL ROMANCE NOVELLA SERIES
His Last Race
His Last Fall
His Last Hill
His Last Love
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Megan Matthews writes smutty romance by day and hides behind her secret identity as a responsible Pinterest mom when other parents are around. She believes morning shouldn’t start until noon and chocolate should be calorie free. Living in Michigan she prefers sun over snow, hot chocolate over coffee, and wine over beer.
Preferring books over nature, Megan once displayed the entire Goosebumps series on her bookshelf. Her taste in reading has matured. She now prefers her heroes with rippling muscles naked in bed over brace-faced nerds running from murderous dummies.
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Acknowledgments
Publishing this series was the craziest thing I’ve ever done as an author. I wrote His Last Race in April 2017 intending to publish this series with the Olympics in 2018. I had months and months to write four books and planned to do them in my “free time”. Then life happened and I didn’t pick this series back up to keep writing until November 2017. Since then it’s been me begging my friends and beta readers to make impossible deadlines and edit half complete documents. Without them this book would not be finished.
MORE BOOKS BY
MEGAN MATTHEWS
THE BOYS OF RDA SERIES
Rush
Lag
Glitch - fan exclusive
Grind
Quest
PELICAN BAY SECURITY SERIES
Security Risk
Future Risk
Holiday Risk
GOLD MEDAL ROMANCE NOVELLA SERIES
His Last Race
His Last Fall
His Last Hill
His Last Love