“As the King of the mountain, I’d be happy to give you some tips, too, bro,” Emmett teased and I glared at him.
He’d proposed to Ally on Christmas morning in our house with a giant yellow diamond. Fucker hadn’t even told me ahead of time because he knew that my glowering at him—like I was doing right now—would give it away. My parents, who’d been out here for the holidays, and Jessa were the only ones who’d known. He still thought I hadn’t forgiven him.
“I can still take back my fucking approval, you know,” Pride replied, clapping the lid shut and tucking the ring box back into his inside pocket.
His grumbles were overpowered by my laugh. “Yeah? And deal with Ally’s wrath?” I countered. “I don’t think so.” I smirked triumphantly, knowing that my threat was completely empty.
I’d surprised Ally by flying her parents out from Florida for Christmas. There’d been a shit-ton of snow and we’d all ended up staying at their house on Christmas Eve—except for Tammy and Nick who’d been up in Wyoming with Tammy’s family.
I’d been waiting by the tree Christmas morning—everyone else instructed to stay in their rooms until they heard her screams—hopefully from excitement. And when she came downstairs, I got down on one knee and asked my sunshine to light my world every day for the rest of my life.
There’d been tears first, but then squeals of happiness, drawing the rest of the extended Ryder family out to celebrate all of our blessings this year.Chance could pretend he wasn’t thrilled, but I knew how happy he was for the both of us.
I’d never been one for family time or holidays—never really celebrating them growing up. But with her… my eyes caught sight of Ally’s radiance brimming from the dance floor. Yeah, Lil looked beautiful and yeah, Tammy was ‘glowing’ or whatever pregnant women were supposed to do, and Jessa, well, Jessa always had that shockingly, ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck‘ gorgeous going on, but Ally, she lit up the whole goddamn room and she didn’t even know it. And as much as she loved the snow, I had a feeling that it would be sand between our toes on our wedding day.
But I didn’t care.
As long as she was mine.
“Does it look like they are talking about us?” Frost mused, nodding to our group of girls in their matching mossy-green dresses.
“They better be talking about us,” Pride grumbled.
“I think I’d rather that they were dancing with us,” I added, giving the guys a mock salute as I walked onto the floor.
They all followed behind me.
“They think we are talking about them,” Jessa giggled as we danced to Blake Tyler’s latest record-setting hit.
“Well, we are,” I retorted. “How long did you say I have to stay in this dress, Ally? I swear, I should have just worn white snow pants and a white snow jacket.”
“Oh my God,” my sister groaned. “You are unbelievable.”
“Are you feeling okay, Tam? Do you want some water?” Jessa asked our newly pregnant friend, loving how her face lit up at the reminder.
“I’m good, thank you,” she said as Jessa carefully spun her and then pulled her back to the group.
“I can’t believe Wyatt got Blake Tyler here,” Ally squealed, glancing up at the young blonde playing guitar on the stage.
“He knows everyone.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “She’s actually pretty good though. My vote had been country, but I really do like her music.”
“I can’t believe you are married, sis,” Ally gushed and began to wipe away the tears that had been flowing freely all day. “And Tammy.”
“Who would have thought?” Tam replied quietly, glancing down at the large oval sapphire on her finger.
“Tell us what he said again,” Ally begged.
Tammy’s face turned beet red, but she replied. “He said that the blue is because I am his ocean. And then he got down on one knee and asked me if he could drown in me every day for the rest of his life.”
“Who would have thought something so romantic could come from Nick Frost?” Jessa sighed.
“You know Chance is going to propose,” I said.
“Maybe.”
“Seriously. Read your cards,” I returned. “But I’ll bet you that they will agree with my twin-ly intuition.”
“Maybe they already did,” she muttered softly, biting her lip as she tried to stop a grin.
“Two cases of La Croix says that he’s going to do it before the end of next month.” I stuck out my hand and she quickly took it.
“You know I can’t turn down that bet,” she giggled, and we all broke into a laugh.
I glanced over, seeing Emmett making his way through the crowd on the dance floor followed by Chance, Nick, and finally my husband.
Me—the tomboy—had a husband. And was wearing a wedding dress. Who would have thought that would ever happen?
“Can you believe that all of the great SnowmassHoles fell?” I asked the group as we all got bumped and knocked closer together. Man, Wyatt knew a lot of people who liked to dance. Thankfully, my awkward moves were hidden by the girls; no one needed to see that from the bride.
“Well, look at us,” Jessa retorted, giving us her best model-flick of her pink hair, “what other choice did they have?”
“Good point,” I conceded with a laugh.
“I’m glad that it was here,” Ally added, glancing out the giant windows of the lodge. “There’s just something about the mountain.”
“It can save you in a way that nothing else can,” Jessa said wistfully, pulling her in close.
Silent heartfelt agreement fell over the group for a moment before the guys got to us and it disappeared into hugs and laughter and kisses. We’d been through a lot, together and separately, but here, under the twinkle lights, with snow falling outside, it was all worth it.
Here, it all began and ended with the mountain.
But the mountain isn’t just the place. It’s not just the trees and the snow and the trails and the kickers. The mountain is the people that you surround yourself with, the people who are the solid foundation under your feet. It’s their friendship that builds you up to places you’ve never been, that pushes you to reach for things that never seemed within your grasp, and hope for things that you never thought possible.
The mountain is love.
The End.
Looking for more?
Don’t worry! We aren’t leaving the mountain just yet!
After some thought—and some pesky characters—I’m happy to announce that there will be a 5th book in the Winter Games series titled OVER THE TOP!
This will be Kyle’s story. You may remember him also from Enjoy the Ride. His heroine is fierce and feisty and I think you’ll really love her! Stay tuned for this winter sports romance coming Winter 2019/2020.
For updates on this, subscribe to my newsletter or join my reader group on Facebook, Sexy Little Sharpies!
In the meantime, continue reading for an excerpt from my standalone rockstar romance, Reputation!
Preview of Reputation
Track 01: Reputation
“They said, ‘you’ve gone too far this time.’ The thought never even crossed my mind.
On my knees, I’d beg you to stay. Turns out knees are just a pit-stop on the fall from grace.”
A LOT CAN HAPPEN IN a decade.
I slipped off my shoes and crossed my legs as I stared at the wall in my manager, Bruce’s, office. A decade in photos, news articles, magazine interviews, and award letters that tracked every move of my brightly shining star from the moment it had been rocketed into the orbit of fame.
I saw myself—the homegrown little girl from Tennessee who liked sweet tea, every flavor of chewing gum, reading James Patterson novels, and sleeping in a tree house under the stars—standing in a place that I never in a million light years thought I would be. From acres of land and freedom to roam to a personality cult where personal space is non-existent.
#superstar
#famous
Sometimes
I sat here and felt like I didn’t know that girl with all the make-up, holding her guitar up in front of a screaming crowd of seventy-thousand fans with the biggest smile on her face. Sometimes, I still felt like I was on the outside, trying to look in.
“Hey, girl! So sorry I’m late!” Taylor said as she crashed in through the door, holding a million bags and coffee travel cups in both hands.
Petite, with an asymmetrical mahogany bob that was in complete disarray, and a brilliant white smile, Taylor Hastings was an organized mess who was single-handedly responsible for keeping my life—and me—together. She was my PR manager-slash-publicist-slash-best-friend-slash-keeps-Blake-sane. She was my person—my go-to for everything. We’d known each other since middle school and I didn’t care that she didn’t have a degree in any of the things that she did for me; the fact that she’d come out on top (Prom Queen, Homecoming Queen, Class President and Valedictorian) and managed to stay friends with everyone in our class was enough qualification for me. ‘Popular’ made the best PR.
I also may have been slightly freaked out when my debut studio album shot to the top of the charts within a few weeks after my seventeenth birthday and before you could flash a camera, I was opening for the likes of Justin Bieber, Ed Sheeran, and Maroon 5.
Taylor had been my tether back to home and reality when fame tried to rebuild my world on fantasy. She was the anchor that kept my boat from being swept away with the storm. And over the past eight years, we clung to each other while we navigated the entertainment industry.
Well… I wouldn’t call it an industry. Most days it felt more like the Hunger Games. I’d been picked as tribute and every song, every album, every performance was one more step to see whether I was going to make it out alive.
May the octaves be ever in your favor.
“God, you’re such a bag lady!” I teased, standing to take my Chai Tea latte from her hand. “Calm down; Bruce isn’t even here yet.”
“Seriously? I just got off the phone with him like an hour ago,” she gasped, dropping one armful of stuff. “I swear. Sometimes, I think he forgets that you’re—oh, only the biggest pop star in the world. Like no big deal, dude. Just keep Blake Tyler waiting.” She rolled her eyes and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at her dramatics.
Bruce Pillars was my manager and for all his awkward quirkiness, he was considered the best in the business which is why I’d hired him at the very beginning even though four years of college would have been cheaper than what he billed. He was direct to the point of insult, abrupt to the point of rude, but knowledgeable to the point of premonition. He also had the habit of being perpetually late.
“Sorry, just anxious to get this over with,” she mumbled grumpily.
I winced, burning my tongue on the steamed soy milk that was still too hot to drink.
“Everything ok?” I asked with concern, setting the damaging liquid back on the coffee table, and crossing my legs on the black leather couch. I began to pull my straight blonde hair back into a ponytail and when she didn’t respond, I added, “I know you’ve been crazy busy getting everything ready for round two of the tour. I feel like I haven’t seen you.”
It was in the middle—the intermission—of my Lovestruck album tour. The first leg had been our European shows; two weeks ago, we’d landed back in the US to regroup and re-organize and spend the holidays at home before we would start our trek through most major US cities at the beginning of the New Year. I’d been in a bubble of photoshoots, interviews, and promos for the past two weeks in New York City, all the while trying to find elusive inspiration for my next album that I was supposed to be writing.
Busy was good.
Busy meant ignorance and ignorance meant bliss.
It had been a whirlwind and I was more than ready to go home and relax with my family for a few days before the craziness started all over again. And then Bruce had called this morning and asked for an emergency meeting before our flight home to Nashville this afternoon; he never had emergencies.
Not when it came to me.
“It’s… alright,” she replied hesitantly, with a tone that had completely changed to something much more somber. “How are you? After Levi?”
And my blissful ignorance was coming to an end.
My eyes fell, staring blankly at the lid on my tea.
Levi Janssen was one of the hottest DJ’s out of the Netherlands. I met him right before the start of my European tour and we clicked. Of course, I thought it was fate that I was heading overseas, my tour aligning with some clubs that he was scheduled to DJ at. So, we’d jumped from a few casual dates to basically a three-month vacation together.
Spoiler alert: It hadn’t gone well.
But I tried really hard to make it seem like it had; I tried really hard because I refused to believe that it wasn’t. Pictures of the two of us all over each other in Madrid, Berlin, and Copenhagen graced the cover of every tabloid—especially the ones from Berlin where we both had on matching t-shirts with huge red hearts on them and our names inside. They’d been a gift from a fan and I’d looked the gift horse in the mouth.
The press would never know just how much Levi liked to talk about himself. He loved himself more than he could ever love me. They also missed how touchy he was. And I don’t mean with me. I know that Europeans tend to kiss each other in greetings and such, but I’m pretty sure they don’t kiss friends that are girls that way in front of their girlfriend.
“I’m fine,” I sighed. “Sorry… that was so stupid of me.” With a frustrated groan, my head tipped back on the couch and I stared up at the ceiling. “He was so stupid of me.” Ugh. I shook my head. “I have no idea what I was thinking. What’s wrong with me, Tay?”
Like she had an answer.
Like she had an answer that we had time for.
Tay was the one left to clean up the pieces of another one of my quickly failed relationships. My life was starting to sound like a new version of ‘Mambo Number Five.’
One. Two. Three, four, five.
A little bit of Matt telling me lies… A little bit of Xavier getting some on the side… A little bit of Levi’s promiscuity…
This one—Levi—had been foolish. I was hurt and upset after I’d broken up with actor Xavier James and the press painted me as the bad guy. Again. Two months after I’d broken up with designer, Matt McCoy. It didn’t matter that I’d dumped Xavier because he was sleeping with his co-star or that I’d ended it with Matt because I’d caught him sexting with one of his models. I was the famous one. I was the one that broke up with the ‘next James Bond’. I was the one who left the rising fashion star in ‘an attempt to damage his career out of jealousy.’
Being infamous made the press far richer than plain-Jane famous ever would.
“I mean I did try to tell you he was a douche canoe,” she murmured wryly and I stuck my tongue out at her. “It’s ok…” The way that she said it told me that it wasn’t.
“How bad was it?” I cringed asking. “Don’t lie. You suck at lying.”
She’d flown home right after I dumped him to start preparing for the US leg. Meanwhile, I was in London, the second to last stop in Europe, when the news broke over here. Too depressed about in my third break-up for the year—not because Levi ended up being a douche, but because I couldn’t understand how I kept ending up with all the players—I crawled into a hole, ignored social media, and made it through three Patterson novels before we flew back home. This state of black-hole ignorance had continued right up to this moment.
Was there such a thing as a douche magnet? Because my picture should show up in the definition.
The way her face scrunched suggested that it was about as bad as the whole Brangelina breakup. Probably even worse.
She took a sip of her coffee, staring at me over the lid like it was some sort of shield.
“Tay…”
“Alright, it was bad, B,” she huffed, slamming her cup down on the table. “Honestly, the first half of this break was st
ill dealing with the shock waves. Fielding calls and reporters. I’ve had a dozen interviews cancelled and ticket refunds are rising. I-I don’t know why. Or why now. But it is literally exploding everywhere.”
“Seriously? I wasn’t even with him for that long!” Animated, I jerked up to stare at her, flailing my arms. “And he was a self-centered ass! Yeah—of course the public doesn’t know that but—ugh!” I huffed, falling back against the seat.
“I’m on your side, babe, but all the world sees is you going through boys faster than Oprah goes through free giveaways. And that woman gives away a lot of free shit…”
“Whatever. I’m swearing off boys,” I promised as I toyed with the edge of my shirt. “Heart. Break. My heart is taking a break. I’m done.”
Go ahead, stick a fork in me.
“I don’t think that’s going to help,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out her laptop. “The damage is already done.”
“What do you mean?” My brow furrowed.
“B…” She flipped open the screen and shoved it onto my lap. Eyes widening, I scrolled through the word doc of what I assumed where headlines that she copied.
“Another Break-Up for Blake?”
“Love Struck? More Like Love Struck Out…”
“America’s Sweetheart Or America’s Heartbreaker? Is Blake Tyler The Girl That We Thought She Was?”
I hated how my heart jumped in my throat. Bye, bye, Bliss. I slammed the screen shut.
“I’m sure that they’re over it by now. It’s been a month since I dumped Licentious Levi.”
At least my nickname game was still going strong. Then again, so was theirs…
The stories were ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as the fact that the words still hurt.
“Those were from last week.” Good Lord. Does anyone have a life? Would anyone care to have a life besides mine?
In Too Deep (Winter Games Book 4) Page 35