“I don’t have your sunny outlook,” Sam said. “But I’ll try.”
Maya glanced at her phone as it pinged. She squealed. “Wah! Oh, you won’t believe who’s just liked … and commented on the post! Only Salvaro AND Montalier.”
Sam sat up, almost spilling her hot chocolate. “What!”
Salvaro and Montalier! Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined two of the biggest and most prestigious names in sportswear noticing her Instagram, let alone reply to any of the posts.
“Yes … Salvaro said: ‘Looks like Finn and Sam are already a perfect team on and off the slopes! We’d love to see what magic they create—both in sport and in life. Maybe it’s time for a #MeltingPoint partnership? #SponsorshipGoals #WinterOlympics2026’.”
Sam gasped. “No way.”
“Yes.” Maya giggled. “And Montalier replied: ‘Well, it looks like the perfect match just found its jacket! Finn and Sam, are you ready to take your partnership to the next level? We think you’d look very good in Montalier. #MeltingPoint #MontalierXFinnAndSam #WinterOlympics2026’.”
“Leo is going to hate this.” Sam smoothed the comforter with her free hand. “Dad is going to hate it.”
Maya waved her hand as if shooing away a fly. “Snaps to Salvaro and Montalier for not telling you to shut up though! This is brilliant, Sam. You need to reply to them!”
She carried on commenting and liking replies to the post. Sam twisted her almost empty mug in her hands. Maybe it was time to stop caring about what her dad and Leo thought. After all, she was almost twenty-four. It was time to grow up, and Finn was right, it was time to think beyond the Olympics, whether she liked it or not. Sam allowed her thoughts to wander back to the night that had changed everything, the night that an elk had run into the car Leo had been driving, forcing him to drive off the road and down into the ditch. It hadn’t seemed to be a bad accident, not at first sight, but the car had rolled a few times before smashing into a boulder where it stopped. Sam had been the only passenger to walk away without a scratch. Leo had been black and blue for months, and he’d broken both of his legs in more than one place.
Remarkably, her mom hadn’t sustained any obvious injuries, at least that’s what they thought at first. It was only when they took her mom from the wreck that they’d discovered she couldn’t move her legs. She’d been too worried about her son to even register that she was in pain. Sam pushed the memory away. Leo shouldn’t have been driving that night, but their dad had stayed back at the ski center to talk to some big-deal suits. Leo would hate that she’d gotten the attention from that post, but that was another thing she wasn’t responsible for. Maya was only doing her job. He’d just have to get over it, and so would Dad.
“I think I’ll go to sleep. Don’t stay up too late.” Sam got up and took Maya’s empty mug as her friend worked away on the team socials. Sam rinsed their mugs in the bathroom handbasin before going to close the curtains. She paused and looked out of the window. Finn had been right about the snow. It was falling steadily and would be perfect for tomorrow’s qualie. Tomorrow she’d get out there and win a gold medal—not just for herself, but for every other girl and woman who’d been told they couldn’t win.
5
Finn
Sunday, 8th February
Finn trudged down to the gym. The lobby was deserted but outside he could see that it was dark and looked bitterly cold. The snow had stopped, leaving the most perfect powder on the mountains. He might take a chance on glade skiing later before Sam’s qualie that evening. There was nothing quite like getting out on fresh pow and being the first to leave tracks. With a happy heart he pushed through the doors, and stepped into the snow and headed toward the gym.
A few hours later, wrapped up in his new Zero Below jacket and hat, Finn carried his skis toward the chairlift. The sun was beaming down, and the sky was a cracking bright blue. Glad that he had his goggles in his hand, he squinted, adjusted his hat and joined the queue.
Last night had been strange. He’d almost done it, almost told Sam that he didn’t care about the medals—gold, silver or bronze. He cared about her, he wanted her, but he didn’tknow how to say it to her. That’s what had held him back. Anyway, she wasn’t ready to hear those words. She’d been surprised when he’d asked her about what might happen after the competition, and her reaction had shaken him. Clearly, she hadn’t thought about him at all, in any capacity, least of all in a romantic one. If she had, she’d have said something, wouldn’t she? It seemed that snowboarding took up all of her life. There was no room for him, not in the way he longed for.
Lost in thought he automatically took the chairlift, not seeing Sam waving at him from below. Gazing at the dazzling snow-covered mountains, Finn pulled a deep breath down into his stomach. His shoulders broadened as the fresh, icy air filled him. His mom was visiting in a few days, hoping to see him compete in the finals. A wave of pride washed over him. Last summer she’d moved into the house he’d bought for her just down the street from his Uncle Henry and Aunt Miranda. It still felt unreal, that he’d managed to get his mom a real house, with a garden and a garage. It was his dream, and he’d made it come true. It wasn’t a house anything like Uncle Henry’s—there was no way he could afford a house like that—but it was a house all the same.
He had Henry to thank for getting him into skiing after his dad’s death. Henry had taken him out one day to give his mom a break, and that’s when it had all started. From the moment he went down that hill, everyone had said that he was a natural. He’d discovered that out on the slopes he felt free and strong and in control, a complete change from how he’d felt when he wasn’t skiing, and in all honesty, he’d found it easy. His ballet training had set him up for the sport.All the exercises had given him a steel core and powerful legs, perfect for maintaining the balance and stability skiing demanded. While his aunt had said that watching him ski was like watching choreography, it was freestyle skiing that had really gotten him excited. He occasionally missed dance, having given it up as his mom couldn’t afford to pay for classes after his dad had died. Sometimes he wished that his uncle had paid for dance lessons instead of ski lessons, but wishing never changed anything and, as his mother always said, there was no point in looking back. All they had was each other, here and now, and whatever the future brought them.
Finn sighed. There wasn’t a minute that went by when he didn’t miss his dad, and he was grateful for all his uncle and aunt did for him and his mom, but they couldn’t replace his dad. They’d been such a great family: him, his dad and mom. The three amigos, always and forever—even now. He patted his pocket where he’d tucked away his lucky river stone, the one his dad had given him. Maybe he’d give it to Sam for her first qualie later; she seemed nervous, and it might help calm her.
Looking down at the scenery around him, Finn smiled. Once again, he had Henry to thank for introducing him to the seller of the house. True, the house was a fixer-upper, but he could get it right with a bit of hard work and some scrimping and saving. It’d be a test of his creativity, DIY skills and imagination, but he was up for it. He’d bought it for cash with all of his savings before it had even gone to market, having offered the seller the asking price on the spot. It had taken years of competitions to save the right amount,but that wasn’t important. Whatwasimportant was that his mom loved it. She’d fallen in love with it the minute she’d walked in the door. Upgrading her from her tiny apartment gave him a huge sense of achievement, and in the meantime, he’d moved back into the apartment, which was perfect for him, for now.
He twisted his lips. Maybe it’d be perfect for him for the rest of his life, seeing as his love life was non-existent. A bachelor pad, that’s what his aunt had said when he’d told them his plans. Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose with his gloved hand. At the time he’d hidden his upset at those words. He’d laughed along with them—Uncle Henry, Miranda, and his mom—although he had a sneaking suspicion that his mom knew he’d been hurt. But what did he expect them to think about him? He’d a bit of a reputation, not as a bad boy, but as the one no one could pin down. It was the one thing he had in common with Taylor Swift—well, back when she was famously single. He sure as hell couldn’t sing or write songs like she did. He couldn’t even write a diary let alone really think about telling anyone his deepest wishes and dreams.
He had though—he’d told Sam. Not only that first time the night of her prom, but in many of the conversations they’d had over the years—just in a roundabout way. Not straight up to her face that he was in love with her, but other things, like how he was proud of his achievements, and that he was afraid to fail and lose it all. It was easier to tell her that kind of stuff; she had the same desires as he had. Easier than thinking about what might happen if he was brave enough to tell her how he really felt, that from the very firstmoment he’d laid eyes on her he’d been hooked. He cringed at the memory, his cheeks flushing thinking of how awkward he’d been that day.
It had been the day after his seventeenth birthday and Henry, generous as always, had given him the best birthday present ever: a whole week’s ski coaching and instruction from the legendary Coach Jake Harrington. Which was why he’d arrived at the Silverpeak Ridge Ski Center in the heart of Colorado while the snow was still fresh and no one else was even awake—or at least he’d thought no one else had been awake. He remembered squinting as the sun crested the mountains and bounced off the fresh pow, and then his surprise as the metallic sound of a board on metal carried across the silent terrain park. Someone was there even earlier than he was, and that someone had been Sam.
He’d leaned against the barrier, mesmerized as she’d finished the course without a hitch. Every trick was perfect, and he’d been glued to every move this tiny, explosive and confident snowboarder made. He’d never seen anything like it. She was unreal—she hadn’t missed one trick—even at speed. He’d felt like he was watching a champion, and he’d started clapping even before she’d lifted her goggles from her face. Blonde wisps of hair fell around sharp green eyes that had immediately snapped up to look at him. A button nose, pink from the cold, had wrinkled as he’d stopped clapping, his mouth an O of surprise. Blushing to the roots of his dark curls, Finn swallowed. He’d never seen any girl as cute, as pretty, or as self-composed. The girl had smiled as if she knew he was smitten, and his heart had pounded in his chest the same way it still did anytime he saw Sam.
Expertly getting off the chairlift he made his way up the mountain a little to a quiet spot before surveying the glittering white landscape around him. Below him, skiers laughed and chatted. Some lounged outside the cabin, drinking hot drinks or beer. As always, the place was busy, too busy. He needed some space to think about something other than the Games, medals, training, winning, and maybe losing Sam. A swoosh of snow flew into the air nearby as a man came to a halt beside him.
“Hey!” The man removed his goggles, a huge grin on his face. “I thought it was you! Good to see you, my friend!”
Finn shook hands with the older man, laughing and shaking his head. “Davide, man, it’s good to see you! Still working away?”
“Busy as ever,” Davide said. The man brushed back his graying hair from his tanned, weather-worn face. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d have been down there—with the pack—getting ready for the events.”
