by Erika Kelly
With a nod, she complied.
“I got you. You’re okay.”
She nodded. “My knee.”
He heard the worry in her voice. Damage to her knee could kill her competition season. “Let’s get you out of here.” Dragging her up the fifteen feet of ice wall might do more damage. Better carry her. “All right, Trace, climb on. Gonna give you a piggy-back ride.”
He pulled his crampon out of the far wall and kicked until he got a grip alongside his other boot. Then he turned so he had his back to her. Her arms started to latch around his neck, and he shook his head. “My waist, okay?” He said it with a smile, hoping to keep her calm, but he couldn’t risk her choking him.
She let out a shaky breath and reached around his waist.
“You with me?” He waited for her, “Yeah,” before giving a nod to the guys above. Tied to the Z-pulley, they made their slow ascent, his body blocking hers from the ice wall.
At the top, one of the guys hauled him over the lip, and someone else got Traci off his back.
Relief flooded him at the sound of the copter heading their way.
“It can’t land at this pitch,” Bram said quietly.
Which meant she’d have to go up by rope. He hoped like hell she hadn’t hurt her back.
The guys quickly packed up their gear. Once the helicopter arrived, a line dropped from the winch, and the guys tied it to Traci’s harness. Fin watched her body dangle, the injured knee slightly bent, as she rose into the air. Two sets of arms reached out of the helicopter, carefully pulling her inside. The ladder dropped down for the five remaining guys to climb aboard.
Once everyone got settled, the chopper took off, and Fin immediately messaged his oldest brother on his sat phone.
Traci fell into a crevasse. Might’ve blown out her knee.
Will’s immediate response didn’t surprise him. His brother would be waiting to hear he’d made it off the mountain. She all right?
Getting her to the ER in Innsbruck right now.
That sucks.
A moment later, another message came in. You realize you’re on the last flight out that’ll get you home in time for the wedding, right?
And then a third. Can heli drop you at the airport first?
Fin glanced over to Traci on the stretcher. She had her eyes closed, her features pinched in pain. He’d known her for years. Not well, by any means, but their paths crossed thanks to snowboarding. They all had a short window of opportunity to make money doing the sport they loved, so he knew her distraught expression had as much to do with pain as abject fear.
He tapped out his response. Got to get her settled in ER.
Not five seconds later the phone vibrated in his hand. He couldn’t answer, so he messaged. Can’t talk. On heli.
Gotcha. Let me look into it.
He appreciated his brother trying to get him home, but he’d already done the math. With all the connections, that flight from Paris was the only one that would get him back in time.
He knew the other guys could take care of Traci. Get her to the hospital, call her family and coach. She’d be in good hands, but…this is my trip.
He glanced out the window as they soared over the forest. What the hell was he supposed to do? But, of course, he knew. He just didn’t like it.
The phone vibrated with Will’s response. No other flights. You want to be Ryder’s best man, you’ve got to go straight to the airport.
He hadn’t wanted to plan the trip so close to his friend’s wedding, but he’d had six schedules to work around after competition season ended in April. They’d been confident they’d avoid weather issues by going mid-June.
They’d been wrong.
So what did he do? He couldn’t miss Ryder’s wedding, and he sure as hell didn’t want to miss Callie, either. He knew she’d take off the moment Ryder and Lynn shoved cake in each other’s mouths.
He had one chance to see her. One chance to make things right between them.
But he couldn’t think about Callie. As the leader of this expedition, he had to get Traci to the ER. He felt sick to his stomach as he typed out a message.
Can’t do it.
The moment the helicopter landed on top of the hospital in Innsbruck, a team gathered to rush Traci to the emergency room. Fin grabbed her wallet from the side of her backpack and settled in with the staff to check her in. While providing information, he left a voicemail with her coach—he’d know how to reach her family.
By the time Fin joined the guys in the waiting room, they’d amassed a pile of vending machine food on the coffee table. With his fingers deep into a bag of chips, Bram nodded toward the haul.
“How is she?” Fin asked.
Bram shrugged. “No one’s come out yet.”
A quick scan of the crap the guys had selected netted a bag of nuts. Salted, but he couldn’t be that picky. So he grabbed the bag, tore it open with his teeth, and headed over to the nurse’s station. “Excuse me. Do you have any news on Traci Allen?”
The young man shook his head. “I’ll let them know you’re waiting.” His English was accented but clear. “Someone will be out to talk to you.”
As Fin turned back to the guys, one of them said, “You’re gonna miss your flight.”
“Already did.” He pulled out his cell and powered it up. It didn’t take long for the messages to start pouring in.
He opened the one from his brother. Okay, Diva. Chopper’s taking you to a private airport. Got a jet taking you to Paris. Red eye’ll get you into Calamity the morning of the rehearsal dinner.
Happiness split him wide open. He’d make it. “Listen, my brother booked me on a flight out of Paris. You guys’ll stay here with Traci? Take care of whatever she needs?”
“Of course,” one of the guys said.
Energized, he shoved the phone into his pocket. “Okay, then.” He glanced back at the nurse’s station, hesitant to leave without knowing Traci’s condition. What if she required surgery? Decisions would have to be made. “I left a message with her coach,” he started, but Bram lifted a hand to stop him.
“Already talked to him. He’s contacting her family and making plans right now.”
Good. “All right then.” Fin hesitated, looking between this team and the nurse.
“Just go, man. We got this.”
“Yeah, okay.” Reaching for the backpack he’d leaned against the wall, he looked at his team. He knew them. They wouldn’t leave until Traci’s coach or family got there. “Stay in touch. Let me know how she is.”
They all nodded, and he took off, racing toward the red exit sign. He hauled ass up the well-lit stairwell and burst out the doors to the roof. The moment he boarded the helicopter he buckled in and let out a breath.
Hell, yes. He’d make it home in time for the wedding.
He smiled. Callie Bell, I’m coming for you.
Settling back in his seat, he thought about Traci, how upset she’d be no matter the extent of her injuries. This is exactly why her coach doesn’t let her board backcountry.
Fin’s trips were as risky as they were fun. Anyone who joined him knew what they were getting themselves into. Still, he felt like shit that she’d gotten hurt.
He pulled out his phone, wondering what he could say that wouldn’t sound stupid. She wouldn’t want to hear bullshit promises that everything would turn out okay. She was tough, no-nonsense.
He’d keep it light. Snarky.
Thanks for a great time. :) Gotta jet. Talk soon.
CHAPTER TWO
Surrounded by the scent of laundry detergent, Calliope Bell leaned against the washing machine as she read the comments from Traci Allen’s Instagram page.
You rat bastard. There is no excuse. You hear me? None. I don’t care if you miss the Pope’s wedding, you don’t abandon your girlfriend when she needs you. Fin Bowie, you suck!
Oh, my God, you left your girlfriend alone in a hospital in a foreign country??? How heartless can you be? You are the worst boyfri
end, Fin Bowie!
He totally is. Fin Bowie’s seriously the worst boyfriend ever. I can’t even.
Ha! Fin Bowie = world’s worst boyfriend!
#worldsworstboyfriend
What had Fin done?
A bark of laughter jerked her attention out the mudroom window to the rehearsal dinner going on in her parent’s backyard. The lowering sun glanced off silver bolo ties, gold bangles, and belt buckles. She should be out there with her brother and his bride, but these comments… so many women advancing on Fin with pitchforks in their hands.
As much as she wanted to revel in his just-rewards, she knew how horrifying this kind of attention would be to him. He wanted to be a known as a champion like his older brothers—not some social media celebrity.
Well, he’d brought it on himself. Since breaking up with her six years ago, he’d gone off the rails. At first, seeing him party with so many women had gutted her. Scooped out her heart and rendered her a puddle of goo. So, she’d blocked him. It had been the only way to get on with her life.
On some level she understood. Until the breakup, he’d only ever been with her. Of course he’d go hog-wild with other women. He was a passionate, wild man.
Only this time he’d messed with the wrong woman.
Her thumb flicked the bottom of the screen, unleashing a whole new wave of comments.
Who leaves their girlfriend alone in a foreign country? Kick that dog to the curb, Traci. Sending you healing vibes. #worldsworstboyfriend
Something about this whole thing was off, though. As far as she could tell, Traci Allen, the famous snowboarder, had posted a screenshot of a text Fin had sent her. Callie scrolled back up to read it again.
Thanks for a great time. :) Gotta jet. Talk soon.
But Traci hadn’t explained it. She’d just left an ambiguous comment.
When you’re in the hospital and Fin Bowie sends this.
Traci’s whole life was documented on her Instagram page, so if she and Fin had been romantically involved, wouldn’t there be pictures of him? Callie couldn’t see a single one. And Traci had only mentioned his name once, when she’d talked about going on one of his backcountry trips.
So how had that one post turned Fin into the World’s Worst Boyfriend?
Callie reread the initial responses. In the beginning, her fans had asked questions. When Traci hadn’t responded, they’d begun to speculate. And those assumptions had turned into a story: Fin had dumped his girlfriend to catch a flight back to the States so he could go to his friend’s wedding. Within a matter of hours, he’d begun trending.
And the hashtag was everywhere.
“Oh.” Her mom tossed an armful of damp kitchen towels into the washing machine. “What’re you doing in here?” She looked at the phone in Callie’s hands. Hope enlivened her tired features. “The fellowship?”
A hot flush of shame had Callie pressing the phone to her stomach. Between finals and graduation she hadn’t been in touch with her family, so they didn’t know her plans. “No, the interview isn’t until August twenty-fifth.”
“Oh.” Her mom’s expression turned curious. “So, is it about a job?”
“No.” Because why else would she be holed up in the laundry room at her brother’s rehearsal dinner when she was only in town for three days? “Actually, I’ve decided to just work part-time at the diner and the bar. Julian’s parents invited me to hang out with them this summer so they can introduce me to the movers and shakers of the Manhattan art world. It would take me a decade to make the kind of connections they have.”
“Makes sense.” Pushing her long, gray-streaked hair off her face, her mom nodded to the phone. “So what’s got you so enthralled that you’d leave your handsome boyfriend alone with a bunch of strangers?”
The arrow hit right in the center of her conscience. Reflexively, she glanced out the window, searching for him. “Is he okay?” They’d only been dating six months, so she hadn’t brought him home yet. Julian didn’t know a single person in Calamity.
“Oh, come on. He’s Prince Charming. Nothing but gracious and kind.”
She wanted to be proud of her well-mannered boyfriend, but there was something slightly off in her mom’s tone.
Her mom made a gimme motion with her fingers, and Callie turned the phone around.
One glance, and her mom got it. “Ah. How many comments are we up to now?”
Callie couldn’t have been more grateful for a mom who never judged her. “Ten thousand.”
Her mom’s eyes widened. “Wow.” She rested her hip against the dryer and folded her arms across her stomach. “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time believing Fin could abandon his girlfriend in a foreign hospital.”
Callie gaped at her mother. “Are you kidding me?”
“Oh, stop it. It’s not the same thing. He’s not seventeen anymore, and you weren’t hospitalized.”
“Mom, he bailed on me three hours before we were supposed to leave for the airport.” To be with his brother. Just like he’d abandoned Traci for Ryder’s wedding. Fin and her brother might not be related by blood, but the bond went as deep.
Amazing how six years later the crap she’d buried could rise like steam and give her hot flashes. I thought I was done with this.
Her mom adjusted the fabric belt of her peach-colored dress. “Does it make you feel better knowing it wasn’t you? It’s just who he is?”
“No.” Nothing would ever make her feel better about how Fin had ended their relationship. The shock of it still moved inside her body, a live thing trapped and scrabbling against the walls. “Because you’re right. Something’s not right about it. Other than posting the screen shot, Traci’s been off social media. Her fans are making assumptions.”
“Then why are you so interested in reading the comments?”
“Because it’s happening to Fin. That’s pretty crazy, right? That my ex has turned into a meme?”
“Well, he’s a Bowie. They’re celebrities.”
“Yeah, in the world of extreme sports.” While trophies and awards motivated—validated—his brothers, Fin was a true artist. He trained and hit the slopes to push himself, his body, and to find the limit of his capabilities. Being known as a scoundrel would strike at the very core of his identity. “He doesn’t want this kind of attention.”
Her mom’s gaze flicked outside, clearly anxious to get back out there. “Oh, I don’t know. A man with his own website can’t be too worried about attention.”
Fin probably only ran it to prove to his brothers he wasn’t just playing around out there. That he was as serious an athlete as they were.
Like she knew anything about him anymore. She hadn’t talked to him in six years.
But she’d have to talk to him today, wouldn’t she? The minute she left this room, he’d come for her like a heat-seeking missile. Her skin crackled with anxiety.
“Come on, let’s go.” Her mom started for the door but hesitated when Callie didn’t follow.
“I’ll be right behind you. I just…” You what? She wasn’t ready. “I need to take a quick look at my emails.”
Her mom watched her for a moment before letting out a harsh breath. “He’s the best man, Callie. You’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this.”
“I’m not…” She didn’t want her mom to see her as the drama queen teenager she’d once been. “Look, I haven’t seen him in a long time. It’s just…it’s going to be uncomfortable.”
“Isn’t that why you brought your boyfriend with you?”
Normally, she loved that her mom pulled no punches. Tonight, though, a little pretending wouldn’t hurt. “God, Mom.” She stuttered out a bitter laugh. “I wanted you guys to meet him.” But her bluster collapsed under her mom’s unrelenting stare. “I mean, obviously, on some level…” Oh, just say it. “Yes, okay? That’s one of the reasons I brought him.”
“So there you go. Find your shield and stand behind him.”
Oh, ouch. All at once she could see her
mom’s attitude was anything but casual. “Why are you angry at me? So I need a few minutes to myself. It’s not easy for me to be around him.”
“Yes, Callie, I get that. We all get that. But it’s been six years. And if you’d just talk to him, you wouldn’t have to keep avoiding him.” Her mom blew out a frustrated breath. “Don’t you want to move on?”
The words stung. Move on? She’d done exactly that. With her undergrad and graduate degrees from NYU, she’d made her dream of living in New York City a reality. A few years from now, she’d—hopefully—become a museum curator.
She wanted to say, Look at me. There was none of the old Callie left. How could her mom not see that? “Are you kidding me? I have completely moved on. I’m a few months away from working at the MoCA. I have the best boyfriend in the world.” Who couldn’t be more different from Fin. “He and his parents have been wonderful to me. I love my life.” And, frankly, it hurt that her mom couldn’t see it.
“Yes, you’ve done a bang-up job of reinventing yourself. Congratulations. But I don’t know how you think you can start a new relationship when you haven’t closed out of the last one. You’ve got the degrees and clothes and bank account of an adult, so now act like one. Go out there and talk to Fin. Face the terrible decisions you both made so you can move on.”
Frustration and anger got her blood pumping. “I’m not an adult because I won’t talk to my ex-boyfriend? There’s nothing to talk about. He made his decision, and I made mine not to put up with his crap anymore.” It wasn’t like her mom could relate. She’d married her high school sweetheart. “Mom, he’s never going to change. This meme proves that. He’s always going to put his brothers before anyone else.” Before me. “Moving on means accepting Fin for who he is and not trying to change him. That’s closure.”
“Then why are you hiding in the laundry room at your brother’s rehearsal dinner?”
“Ellen?” The caterer leaned in. “We’re about to pass out the champagne. You want to give the heads-up to anyone giving toasts?”
“Sure.” Her mom nodded warmly, and then turned back to Callie. “Put your phone away and be here for your brother, okay?”
