“Do you mind if we get Thai?” he asked on the way back to my house. I shook my head; that was fine with me. “For some reason, I always crave Thai right before a competition.”
“Ahh, so now you’re giving away your competition secrets!” I exclaimed. “The secret to winning—Thai food!”
We laughed and continued talking like we’d known each other for years instead of just a few short weeks, stopping in town to pick up dinner and then heading back to the house.
“What is Zack going to do?” I don’t know what made me think about it, but I realized that Ally could be in the same position that I was in. Zack was only here because Wyatt was competing. What happened afterward?
I glanced over and saw his mouth firm into a thin line. Uh oh. That doesn’t look good. “I’m not sure. I haven’t told him about the school. I’d really like him to come teach skiing there. Well, maybe not teach,” he laughed, “but coordinate the skiing program maybe.”
“You don’t think that he will?”
He sighed as he turned the Range Rover into the driveway. “Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t think Zack is at the point where he really wants to settle down; he likes traveling, competing, ‘living life.’”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound good for my sister.
“Maybe Ally will have changed that.” Wyatt knew what I’d been thinking.
Holding the take-out bag, I shut the door behind me. “As much as I like to think of her as my baby sister, she’s a lot wiser and stronger than I give her credit for. I’m sure whatever happens, she’ll find a way to make the best of it.”
“If I could make him stay, I would.” He held the door open for me and I walked into the hall.
“I know.”
At that point, our conversation transitioned back to our own future and the school—all Wyatt’s ideas for where it should be, who should be hired, how many students we should have in a class.
I remembered when I’d first met him, the barrenness that had come over his face when people mentioned his retirement or asked him what his plans were—even when he told me about working with some of his sponsors. Nothing had inspired him. Nothing had excited him. The thing that was so poignant to me, though, was the fact that the X Games began tomorrow—his last Games—and nothing could have been further from his mind.
He’d come to Aspen clinging to this competition like it was his last chance at living and doing something meaningful. Now, he’d found something so much more—something that he wanted me to be a part of with him.
The front door opened just as we were finishing up.
“Hey, Ally.” Wyatt greeted my sister, being able to see her first from where he was sitting in the kitchen.
“Oh, hey, Wyatt,” Ally said, walking into the kitchen. “Didn’t expect to see either of you here this early.”
“I… had off tonight because of the event, so we just grabbed some take-out.” I risked a glance at her.
“Gotcha. Well, I won’t interrupt.”
“Do you want some Thai?” Wyatt asked her, walking over to my side and putting his arm around my waist. “I’m actually going to get going in a few.” He kissed the top of my head as I turned my face up to his. Why was he going?
“Actually, that sounds amazing.” She reached across the counter for the rest of my Pad Thai.
“You’re leaving?” I asked him quietly.
He chuckled and leaned closer to my ear. “Gorgeous, I need to get some sleep tonight for the competition.” I felt the hand that had been on my waist drift down over my ass. “And if I stay here much longer, I won’t be able to leave. And I definitely won’t be getting any sleep.”
I groaned softly; he did have a good point.
“Ok,” I pouted. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Bye, Ally.”
“See ya, Wyatt!” she returned, her mouth full of noodles.
When we made it to the front door, I didn’t even get to the doorknob before he had me up against the wood, his mouth claiming mine. We kissed for several long—but not long enough—minutes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said breathlessly.
“And every day after,” he growled, kissing me hard again before reaching around and opening the door.
It was frigid outside, but I held the door open, watching him get in the car and drive down the driveway. Only when he was out of sight did I finally shut it—and realize how frozen my nose was.
“I take it you had the conversation and it went really well.” Ally didn’t even preface her statement as I walked back into the kitchen.
“What gave it away?” I asked wryly.
“Well, your not-so-silent whispers—TMI, by the way. Your fifteen-minute good-bye at the door before I even heard the door open—unless being over thirty means it takes him that long to make it to the front door. And the way you look like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer from standing looking out the open door.”
“Oh, only that?” I returned cheekily.
“Well…?”
“He’s not going back to Canada, Al.” I couldn’t stop smiling. “He’s moving here. And opening up a school for kids with talent to learn from him—from us.” She raised her eyebrows. “He wants me to help him.”
“That’s awesome, Chan!” She wrapped her arms around my neck and I felt her sigh with relief into me; she would have been crushed if I’d left.
“I know! I’m so happy!” I laughed against her as she continued to hug me. Part of me debated whether or not to mention anything about Zack, but after everything that had just happened between Wyatt and me, I didn’t want to start another round of skepticism and miscommunication.
“Why do you have off tonight?” Her tone fell but she didn’t let go.
“I requested off when I first registered as Chance.” I knew what was coming next.
“Are you still competing?”
“I… I thought Wyatt was leaving. So, I never got that far. And now, it’s too late. I’m afraid it will look suspicious.” Shit. She began to pull back. “The last thing I want is for someone to realize that Chance isn’t here and his name to be dragged through the mud after his career is already over.”
“But you signed him up no problem?” Ally’s arms crossed over her chest. This was going downhill.
“Because Wyatt was there and vouched for me!” I ran a hand frustratedly through my hair. “I-I don’t know what to do, Ally. Every option seems wrong. If I pull out, there will be questions—and not just from the Games committee, but from Wyatt. And if I stay in… there’s no chance I’ll win against Wyatt. There’s a chance he could realize it’s me. But also, that he might not.”
“You just don’t want to give it up, do you?” She asked sorrowfully, shaking her head. “Do what you want, Channing. Clearly, you are going to anyway. I just hope that one day you realize that you have nothing to prove to any of us—not me, not Chance, and definitely not Wyatt; we all love you. I hope you finally figure out what it is you’re trying to prove to yourself.”
“Ally…” I didn’t even know what to say, but she saved me from having to figure it out.
“Don’t worry about it, Chan. It’s your life. Do what you want. I’m going to bed.” And with that desolate statement she turned and went upstairs. The slam-click of her door was becoming a familiar punctuation mark in the story of my life.
WHATEVER I’D BEEN EXPECTING, IT hadn’t been this. There were people everywhere. It was the X Games and I should have known, but the sheer mass of snowboarders, skiers, and spectators was nothing to balk at.
I led the way towards Cup of Joe. Ally was walking behind me; we’d rode over in complete silence. She didn’t bother to suppress her disappointment or hide it from her eyes when she saw me head down to the basement—to Chance’s room—with a bag to pack his stuff into.
“Ready?” I’d asked, attempting a smile only to feel her draw farther away from me. Grabbing her purse, she just walked out the front door towards the car.
I’ll tak
e that as a yes.
I woke up to a text from Wyatt saying that he and Zack would meet us at Cup of Joe this morning before the events of the day got underway. I wondered if we were even going to fit inside the coffee shop with the number of people around.
I pulled the door open and sure enough, there was a crush of customers inside. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you today, Al.”
She ignored me and walked through the door only to run straight into Emmett as he turned from the bar, holding a mug of coffee in his hands.
“Well if it isn’t Little Miss sunshine.” He grinned and I winced. Ally was not in the mood this morning, which meant Emmett was about to have his ass handed to him.
“Get out of my way, asshole.”
“Woahhh,” his hands went up, “did Prince Charming leave your panties in a bunch this morning?”
Oh no. “Emmett, just leave her alone,” I finally interjected, glaring at him, trying to force him to move out of our way. Except he didn’t look at me, his eyes remained on Ally, waiting for her response.
“Did you bring a change of clothes?” Sweetness dripped from her words and I knew a scene was about to me made.
“Why? You plan on taking them off?” He laughed. And then she did, too. “WHAT THE—” An impressive display of expletives echoed through the coffeehouse as Ally tipped his coffee mug over, spilling the steaming contents down the front of his shirt. “What the hell is wrong with you!”
“Oh, my gosh! Did I do that?” her tone dripping with mock innocence. “I am so sorry.”
I moved to step around them when Emmett grabbed my arm, his eyes burning with rage. “What the fuck is wrong with your sister?” he yelled.
“I told you to leave her alone!” I huffed and pulled my arm from his grasp, noticing Ally smiling sweetly at him as though she hadn’t just doused him in hot coffee.
I saw Wyatt watching the exchange from the corner and I was about to turn and make my way to him when I saw Emmett step closer towards my sister. I paused, watching as he leaned in and whispered something in her ear—something that wiped the smile right off of her face and painted her cheeks red. He dipped his finger into what was probably only a few drops of coffee left in his mug and traced it down her cheek.
I had to give Ally credit, she didn’t flinch away from him; instead she stared him down, wiping her cheek with her sleeve, as though she would destroy him if it was the last thing she ever did. In that moment, I realized that what Wyatt had suggested had much more truth to it than I’d given it credit for.
“Who needs to watch today’s events when your sister can put on a show like that?” Wyatt teased as I walked up to him and the coffee that he had waiting for me.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I raised up on my tip-toes, claiming the kiss that had been coming.
“I can’t wait for the next two days to be over,” he rasped against me.
“Why?” I pulled my head back. “It’s your last Games! You should enjoy it!”
The warm breath of his laugh brushed over my cheek. “I’d rather be enjoying you. Every night. Every way.”
I shivered deliciously. “Promises, Mr. Olsen?”
“You bet, Miss Ryder.” He kissed me quickly and then we searched for a seat to drink our coffee.
By the time we found a table, Emmett was gone, Ally had her apron on and was behind the counter, and Zack had arrived at some point and was chatting with her.
“Guess the show is over,” I mused wryly.
Wyatt laughed. “Looks like it’s up to the rest of us to keep the masses entertained.” If they only knew.
“Are there always this many people?” He nodded affirmatively. “Crazy…” I drained the last of my coffee. “What time is your run?”
I already knew when it was because I was holding a copy of the schedule in my pocket—a schedule that listed my own time on there, too. Thankfully, Wyatt was running at the end of the heat and I was just after the middle; so, there were probably about six or so riders separating us. This meant he would still be in queue when I finished, giving me time to change and watch his pass.
“Looks like I’m closing today.” He smiled.
“You would think that you would go first since you won last year.”
“I’ll go first tomorrow.” Oh, that made sense. We both stood, needing to go get ready.
“Alright, I have to go get ready for Big Air, gorgeous.” He bent down and kissed me. “You gonna watch me?”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than watch you,” I answered with my best—yet, still somewhat lacking—seductive voice.
He laughed, his hands coming to my waist as his fingers teased the top of my ass. “Let’s go.”
I gave Ally a smile and a wave as we walked out; I don’t think she saw either of them.
Wyatt and I walked to the main lodge, hand-in-hand; my other hand hanging guiltily at my side, feeling like I was going to stab him in the back in just a few short hours.
He wasn’t going to know.
I walked with him as far as the blockades would allow, knowing the pass with Chance’s name on it in my duffel bag would let me by.
“You ready?” I teased him. He looked so completely calm and confident—like this was every day for him; it was just the X Games, no pressure or anything.
He laughed. “I’ve been ready for a long time. I’m just glad that you’re here for my last go at this. The perfect close to an incredible ride.”
“And a perfect beginning,” I murmured. We both smiled at each other like one of the scenes from my chick-flicks—the ones where men usually grunt and groan at how sappy they are.
He crushed me against his snow clothes—too many layers, way too many.
“Where are you parents?”
I felt his head turn side-to-side. “They’re somewhere around here. I know Zack was going to sit with them. Probably your sister, too. You want me to call them?”
I shook my head. “No, I have a better spot to watch you from.”
“On the mountain?” I nodded with a devious smile. There was no way I was going to watch his run on the stupid jumbo-tron.
“Alright, gorgeous. I’ll find you when I’m done with my run?”
When his lips left mine, I hesitated, “I… I have to help Chance with all his stuff, so I’ll just see you once Slopestyle is over?”
I could see he was surprised to hear me mention my brother’s name since I hadn’t been practicing or helping him at all these past weeks. But, because he loved me, he believed my lie. And because I loved him, I hated myself for it.
“Sounds good, gorgeous.” He kissed me again, deeply this time. “Just taking some of that for good luck.”
“I don’t think you need luck there, Mr. Wyatt-Always-Wins-Olsen.”
“You’re right, I just need you.” And with that, his hand smacked my ass and he was gone, jogging out onto the slope towards the entrance to the lift.
The one benefit of being a local in this moment was that I knew exactly where I could get the best vantage point of his qualifier. He ran last in this heat, since he won the gold in it last year, too. I pushed through the standing crowd, avoiding the giant cameras everywhere trying to get photos of the riders as they began to congregate on the mountain.
Most people were sitting on the right side of the slope, watching the big-screen projectors that would be showing the run. Instead, I took to the other side of the trail where there was a double lift still taking visitors half-way up the mountain. I got a few strange looks as I got on the lift with no gear, but when I got off, instead of going to the left where the other open trails were, I went to the right, cutting through the wooded area that would take me down along the side of the Snowmass pipe. From there, I could watch from right at the end of the massive jump and not down several hundred feet where the rest of the spectators were.
And there I waited for the other riders to complete their pass. Pulling out my sheet, I counted down from the twelve that were on the schedule
until it was finally time for Wyatt’s run.
My heart beat out of my chest; the funny thing was that I was sure that he wasn’t nervous at all. But I wanted this for him. I wanted him to go out on top. And then, I saw him drop from the top of the slope, gaining speed before he approached the single huge kicker that comprised the Big Air competition. Unlike Slopestyle, where there were three jumps at the end of the run, Big Air gave you only one shot—your highest shot—at nailing the most insane trick you could accomplish.
I watched him carve, controlled and confident, through the snow, my mouth parting in awe.
Some people are touched by a photo or a piece of art; some are enraptured by a piece of music or a song; for others, a dance or performance captivates in a way that nothing has before. Well, that was me right now, watching my boyfriend perform arguably the most difficult jump ever attempted up to this point in time: the Quad Cork.
The strength, skill, and precision of every muscle in his body to coordinate its movements, to gain the right speed and angle off of the snow, to flip and rotate in perfect synchronicity—it was a work of art. He was a work of art—one that it seemed impossible to put into words.
In slow motion, I watched him spin, opening up through the air. It was only seconds that he was up there, but the way he floated felt like it could have been minutes. The thought of him falling never even crossed my mind. No, this was a man who had been practicing this for a long time—a man who had taught me the same lesson: don’t practice until you get it right, practice until you can’t get it wrong. Wyatt could not get this wrong. He performed the maneuver as easily as an inhale of breath; the solid sound of his board hitting the landing a firm exhale. And the crowd went wild.
“Sometimes, Wyatt Olsen’s riding is simply indescribable…” I heard the announcer boom over the speakers.
He didn’t have to attempt the quad for qualifiers; he could have easily made it in with a triple. I saw his head jerk towards my direction as he flew by; he saw me. That was why he did it. The damn man wanted to impress me even though he knew he didn’t have to. And tomorrow, I knew he was going to get out on this slope and do the exact same thing and win. No one else who’d gone would ever attempt the quad; their only hope would be if Wyatt bailed on the landing tomorrow.
The Winter Games Page 32
