Somehow I had wormed myself to the front, on the side, letting myself blend in with the people around me. With my hood up, I tried to become as invisible as possible, wanting no one to recognize me. Once upon a time, I loved the attention. But she was another girl and another time, when it was my talent they praised, not my tragedy they pitied. Or when it came to Rhys, the salacious gossip they wanted to partake in.
Maybe I should have kept away, but I was done with staying put and being stagnant. I was tired of holding back and not doing what I wanted out of fear. It took everything I had not to march up the hill and shake him. It was agonizing to watch his last two runs. He’d bailed on the first one, and the other run was so basic I wanted to scream. This was not him. Not even close. The Christmas Day we shared, he floored me. I knew he was talented, but shit... he was exceptional.
Today he was basically handing his title over to Jesper, and it killed me to watch. The crowd around me shared my same frustration, booing and shouting at him to get it together. I couldn’t imagine how he felt after seeing his last score.
This run was everything. I had learned life existed after snowboarding. You could go on, but it never left you. It was in your blood. And I knew how much he really wanted this.
The earlier sensation of Jonah hadn’t left; I felt him and my brother standing with me. The three of us cheered Rhys on. We hadn’t made it to the Olympics, but I knew in my gut Rhys could. He was the one who was supposed to go, and in a small way, we would all be there with him.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, the last run of the night and the last chance for Rhys Axton.”
My stomach dropped hearing the announcer. Even his name twisted me into knots, my heart pattering like a scared rabbit’s. I clasped my hands and held them to my mouth, trying to keep myself from screaming…or throwing up.
“Come on, Rhys,” I muttered to myself, dancing on my toes. “Show them what you got.”
It was as if my voice carried to him. His head was set and he glided down, rotating his board one full turn still on the ground so his board was “backward.” Gaining speed, he tipped back on his heels. Hell. He was going to try the Backside 1260 off the heels. The same one he tried on Christmas and fell on his ass on the landing.
Everything stopped, my lungs no longer taking in breath, my muscles locked down. Rhys hit the ramp, grabbing the tip of his board, rotating four times in the air before he came down, facing the mountain, his body prepping to do it again, but this time he clutched the back of his board, flipping the opposite way. My teeth bit into my fingers. Land it. Land it.
Gravity pushed him down, still not quite finished with his last rotation.
Oh no…
“Oh. My. God! By the skin of his teeth, Rhys did it! He stomped that landing!” the spokesman screamed out as the crowd around me jumped up and down. “Only a few have ever been able to land that.”
I couldn’t help but join in, jumping and screaming, forgetting everything around me but him. Pride filled me till I felt I might crack.
Rhys sailed down onto the pipe to the finish, swishing up out of it with a twist. His board didn’t fly as high as it should, and he slammed against the top ledge, his arms flying out.
“No!” I cried out, seeing him tumble to the ground. The hissing of the crowd resonated in my ears. This was the same move he made when he sprained his knee last time, bringing him down again.
Thud.
His form hit the packed ice with a painful crunch, his knee taking the brunt once again.
Silence engulfed the area, everyone in shock.
“Rhys Axton is out. The same move he got hurt on last time… Oh man, this is heartbreaking,” the announcer stated.
My ribs collapsed against my lungs, my heart breaking for him. It changed nothing about how I felt about him, but I knew how badly he wanted this.
“Wait... he’s getting up.” The presenter’s voice shrilled over the speaker. “Damn. You can’t keep that boy down.”
I watched him bounce back on his snowboard, his already weakened knee dipping, his face stone, showing determination.
He pointed himself in the right direction, capturing speed again. The fall would deduct a lot of points. Even the trick he finished with last time would not give him enough to win.
Yet he got back up and didn’t quit. My heart surged with pride.
Damn... I am so in love with him. I thought fear would follow right on the heels of my admission, but I felt nothing but calm and solid. Alive. Happy. The most I had ever felt. Even if I loved him from afar, it was better than the numbness of the past nine years.
Rhys hit another incline, his board crackling over the freezing snow, the sun dipping even lower. The audience held their breath as he went in for his final trick. The overrun course and ice patches did not let the board glide as fast as earlier. A Double McTwist would be impressive, but not enough.
Rhys lowered down. Zipping up the pike, he flew in the air. My mouth parted, and in the distance, I heard the spokesman scream something. Everything but him was a haze. He clutched the board, corkscrewing through the air.
Holy. Holy. Shit. He pulled off another move only few had ever landed: The Quad Cork. Called that because you didn’t just flip on a vertical axis but a horizontal one as well, similar to a corkscrew. It was one of the toughest tricks, first done by a guy who had gymnastics under his belt.
Holding our collective breath, we watched as came back down to earth, the sound of his board cracking the ice bed as he hit, tipping him back. His arm flung back, stopping his fall, his fingers stirring up the snow in a cloud behind him, as if he were peeling across the finish line.
The mob went crazy. The announcer screamed into the microphone, causing the sound boxes to hiss.
Shaun and others ran for him, whapping him on the back as he pushed up his goggles and unlatched from the board. I noticed he favored one leg.
“The judges are tallying the score…” The guy on the loudspeaker taunted, inciting the hysteria around me. “And...”
All eyes were glued to the enormous monitor. I breathed in, and the screen flashed from Rhys’s face to his score.
There was a millisecond before what we saw registered. Oh. My. God.
He did it.
The crowd lost its mind. Screaming and whistling, dancing and chanting. Noise rang in my ears with a thunder. And I was right there with them.
Rhys grabbed his head, bending over before he popped back up to stare at the screen again, his eyes glistening with shock and joy. Shaun screamed and bounced next to him, patting his back, a smile I had never seen stretched across his face.
“He did it! He did it!” the announcer shouted. Like a dam broke, reporters rushed him, shoving microphones in his face, asking questions. The moment I heard his voice, it felt as if warm water bathed my muscles, relaxing my body. I felt so much delight and happiness for him, tears of joy rolled down my cheeks.
Rhys grinned, answering the same questions they always asked. While still trying to capture his breath, his gaze filtered through the crowd. How do you feel? Awful, I hate winning. What does this mean to you because of your brother? Yeah, let’s always remind me of heartache for good TV.
“It appears as if you are looking for someone.” A woman reporter got up to him. “Anyone in particular?”
He didn’t answer, his gaze going down for a moment.
Girls screamed for him, their “I love you, Rhys” signs waving frantically, some yelling their intentions to him, but he only gave a general smile.
“Did you watch today’s First Look?” the same reporter asked.
“Um. No.” He shook his head; a nerve twitched in his jaw.
A girl bumped into me, jarring me away from watching him, her shirt reading #ridingrhys wannabe.
Wow. Okay.
“Wait.” She did a double take, her eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you that Hannah Brennley girl?”
Like a plug pulled out of a bathtub, my need to be here drained away. “Uh
hh…no.” I tucked into my hood, trying to slip away from her. It was time for me to go. I was so happy I came and watched him, but this was about him. I didn’t need to muddle it.
“Yes, you are!” the girl yelled, grabbing my arm. “I just watched you on First Look this afternoon.”
Oh crap.
Panic clenched my esophagus and I yanked my arm away, pushing through the crowd. I could hear murmurs around me, growing louder.
“That’s her!”
“Hannah!”
“Brennley!”
“She’s here. Rhys, she’s here!”
My good intentions burned to ash. I shoved my way through, desperate to flee.
The crowd started chanting my name and calling out to Rhys, driving more desperation through my veins to get away. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Wait!” His voice dived through the crowd like an arrow, piercing me. “Hannah, wait!”
A group of people closed in and blocked my escape. I glared at them as though they had betrayed me.
“Hannah.”
Shit. I inhaled, slowly turning around. Rhys tore through the throng, his eyes set on me as his target. The entire place was silent, watching us, the TV cameramen running after Rhys, not wanting to miss this.
Once comfortable with the spotlight, I could barely stand under its weight now, my limbs shaking as anxiety crept over me like fog.
People parted for Rhys as he stopped about a yard away from me, his face showing me no inkling of what he felt. “You came.”
“Uhhh… yeah. Couldn’t miss it.” I floundered under his intense watch. “Congrats, by the way. I knew you could do it. You’re amazing.” I tripped and stumbled over each word, solidifying my embarrassment and the awkwardness. His gaze moved up and down me, his head shaking back and forth.
My mouth parted to say something probably even more stupid when he rushed forward, his hands clamping down on the sides of my face, tugging me to him. His lips crushed down on mine, inhaling me with such intensity I no longer remembered there was a world outside of us. Desire thrummed up my body, and I grabbed him, needing a foundation to hold on to as his tongue swept through my mouth, deepening the kiss.
Fire burned in my belly and raced between my thighs, fluttering my chest with need. He let go of my face, and his arms went around me, lifting me off the ground, not breaking from the kiss.
It wasn’t until he broke away, a grin on his face, looking up at me, that I heard the cheers around us. This time I didn’t care. My hands slid up his jaw, bringing his mouth back to mine.
You’re in public, Hannah. Ripping off his clothes right here might be crossing the line.
I almost didn’t care.
“Damn, I missed you,” he muttered against my mouth, setting me back on my feet. “No more running. Okay?”
“No more running.” I nodded against his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Rhys. Sorry I kept the truth from you. For hurting you.”
“I think you and I are done with the I’m sorrys.” He winked, his hands still cupping my face. “No more. The truth from now on. And you naked. That will definitely help, if you want to make it up to me.”
My smile mirrored his. “Is that all it will take?”
“There’s going to be a lot of nakedness. You’ll be making it up to me for years. First on the balcony or maybe the kitchen island?”
“How about both,” I winked, “and shower, stairs, and maybe a snowmobile?”
“Fuck. That’s my girl.” He kissed me softly, his fingers tangling in my hair, his lips close to my ear. My heart thudded at his reference. “But first we celebrate.”
“What’s that entail?”
“Pouring champagne on you and fucking you on the balcony, shower, stairs, and most definitely a snowmobile.”
“Fuck. That’s my boy.”
“Most definitely yours, but can we switch it to man?” He leaned his brow into mine. “You know how fragile my ego is.”
I laughed. Fragile, my ass.
It took me a moment to realize my laugh echoed across the terrain, widening my eyes. I forgot about the cameras. We were being taped. How much had they caught? Heard?
Rhys kept his eyes on me, shrugging. “The hell with them. It’s just us. Who cares what anyone else thinks.” He stepped back, lacing his fingers with mine, and waved to the crowd, the air bursting with hoots and cheers. We started walking away from the watching eyes.
“I’m sure you have interviews and stuff?” I looked back at the crowd. “The award ceremony.”
“There’s only one person I want to talk to. Who means anything to me.” He squeezed my hand with a wink. “And there’s only one reward I want.”
My fingers squeezed his back as we made our way toward the cabin, his arm sliding around my waist. When we got far enough away from the crowd, he pulled me close.
“Don’t mistake this for love. I’m simply using you as a crutch. My knee fucking hurts.”
Again he had me bursting out laughing. “Okay.” I wrapped my arm around his waist, his body and warmth feeling incredible under my touch. “But…don’t confuse my assistance with love either. I just feel bad for you. Plus, it would be so awkward if you thought I loved you.”
“So awkward.” He grinned, his eyes telling me everything I needed to know. His cell buzzed relentlessly in his pocket, probably Shaun wondering where the hell he was going. Rhys turned it off, shrugging at me. “They can do without me for the night.”
When we reached the steps to his cabin, I turned to face him, taking a backward step up the stairs.
“And I promise I will take your injury into account when you can’t keep up with me.” I cocked an eyebrow, letting him know exactly what I meant. “I’ll go easy.”
“Okay, whoa…” He held up his hand. “That’s just low.”
“No, it’s a challenge.”
“Playing dirty?”
“I hope so.”
A mischievous grin pulled up the side of his face, and he grabbed the railing. I flipped around, running the few steps into the cabin, stripping as I darted for the bedroom. His arm caught me around the waist as I reached the stairs to his room. His mouth was on mine, both of us ripping off what was left of our clothing, desperate and needy for each other, before he pushed me back on the steps. Guess we were starting here first.
I took him in as his mouth and body covered mine, feeling as though I had come home. It wasn’t a place I had been searching for. We were each other’s cornerstone and building from there. No matter what I thought knew, at the heart it would always be us.
As our bodies moved together, I finally understood what true love was. What Bryan and Jonah must have felt.
There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to fight and protect Rhys and what we had. People were going to talk and judge, but Rhys and I had the privilege to not care, to ignore them, unlike my brother and Jonah.
Life was too short. I knew what it was to be buried alive, to be part of the living dead. I had been given a second chance, and I wasn’t going to waste it. Not a second.
I didn’t believe in real ghosts, but I couldn’t help feeling something brought me back here, as though Rhys and I were meant to find each other. It seemed as if the universe knew we needed each other to heal, to open up, and where we could find true peace and happiness.
To love again.
All my boys, including Rhys, had taught me so much about love, life, and friendship. Each a part of me.
All for one, and one for all.
Epilogue
Hannah
(15 Months Later)
Snow winged off my board, glinting from the sun dipping close to the horizon. I curved, cutting a beautiful line through the powder, taking in a deep breath. Pine. Clean. Cold.
Hope.
Every part of me responded with giddiness. I think every snowboarder in the world would agree this feeling became laced in your blood, this need you felt every day to be on the mountain. The high you got, the freedom of gliding, as though you we
re flying. The rush was intoxicating and addictive.
I arched around, coming to a stop at the bottom of the little hill. Lifting my goggles onto my helmet, I watched seven kids from ages eight to eleven following me little ducklings down the bunny hill. Most fell on their butts when they tried to stop, still learning to counter their weight.
“Good job today!” I unbuckled out of my board, spearing it into the snowbank next to me. It was this group’s second day with me and most had clicked into it, going from moaning and not wanting to come back to smiling, giggling, laughing, and not wanting to stop. “You guys were amazing. Going to be kicking my butt on that mountain soon.”
The girls and boys scoffed at the idea but grinned. A few had already signed up for my more moderate class later in the week.
Seriously, I had the best job.
Teaching felt like something I was always meant to do. I loved watching the passion I felt for the sport grow in another and teaching something I loved and seeing firsthand the next generation of snowboarders. Who knows, maybe one of these kids would be the next champion.
My name brought in a ton of interest, and people of all ages wanted to be taught by me, to the pleasure of my boss. Ecstatic to have me, he pretty much gave me free rein with my schedule, letting me pick and choose shifts. I hated disappointing any new hopeful, so I was out here more than not, taking more students than was really allowed, especially the few weeks when the house was too silent for me.
“Brennley?” A girl of maybe ten held up her hand, getting my attention. On the slopes, I was once again Boldfaced Brennley. And that girl was out in abundance when I was freestyling and doing runs with other instructors in the morning before work. Being shoved away for nine years had made her even more ruthless on the hill, living every moment to the fullest.
At home I was Hannah.
“What’s up, Elsie?” I unhooked my helmet and quickly replaced it with my beanie, the lowering sun, frosting the already nippy air.
“I want to start learning tricks like flips and stuff. When do we get to do that?” This little girl was a spitfire who reminded me so much of myself when I was her age.
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