Luce clears her throat as the girl leans up, planting a kiss on his lips, only he dodges and she lands on his cheek.
That’s my signal to vanish. Or at least snag a different stretch of snow until he’s finally on.
I burn two hours carving a line on the far side of the mountain, needing distance from the multiplying bodies. When I circle back, the crowd has doubled again. Pop-up fencing funnelseveryone toward the bleachers facing the start. The first ramp plunges, hooks hard, then slips beneath the shadows of forest.
“Hey!” Luce calls, threading through shoulders with three steaming glasses balanced against her chest. She shoves one into my hands. “Buttered rum! Yummy!”
The mug scorches my fingers in the best way. Spice and caramel punch up my nose, and my empty gut does a needy flip I pretend not to notice.
“Mmm!” Our glasses clink as I blow into the mug. A man's voice interrupts a 50 Cent song, mumbling the line up, but I can feel myself drift. Is it jealousy from the girl earlier? Where is Asher right now? This right here is why love is the most underrated weapon of our time. It destroys without spilling blood.
“I'm going to head home.” I hand her back the rum, not wanting to look anywhere else in case my eyes land on him and I change my mind.
“Wait, are you okay?” Her eyes search mine. Luce is the closest thing I’d ever have to a sister. Most times, I’m thankful for it, but there are times like now, where I need her to be a shitty one. “I'll come.”
“No!” I shake my head, laughing. “You love watching the games on TV. I'll see you later.”
Before she can answer, I dash for the chairlifts. Now if I could figure out a way to worm myself out of this situation as easy as I have tonight…
Chapter 16
Asher
The crowd parts as I move through it. Bodies shift aside like they always do, creating a corridor through the lingering fans and media. Tonight's win sits hollow in my chest. Victory should burn bright, should flood my veins with something other than this emptiness that follows me everywhere now.
My phone vibrates against my hip.
Camille:Coming tonight?
I shove away without answering. She'll find someone else to entertain her. She always does. That's our arrangement. Has been since day one, though sometimes I think she forgets the rules.
“Asher! Oh my God we're so pleased you and Ivy are—”
A fan shoves her phone toward my face, and I freeze, my muscles locking before my brain catches up. Five years in the spotlight and I still haven't mastered the poker face Atlas wears so effortlessly.
“—friends, like always,” I say with a tense smile, annoyed that the Veilarath laws don't extend to phones.
I shoulder past her and claim a spot at the bar.
Atlas appears at my elbow, a glass glowing toxic green between his fingers. Does he teleport?
“You’re causing a scene,” he mutters, taking a lazy swallow.
“When am I not?”
“Fair point.” He angles his body, cutting off a raised phone. “Ivy. I get it.”
I lift a finger; the bartender slides a fresh rye my way before the first drop dries. Respect.
“Well stop getting it,” I say. The words scrape my throat. I don't want Atlas anywhere fucking near her. It's why I kept him away during those first almost two years. Mine. Just mine.
Atlas studies the liquor. “Easy, brother. You and I both know…”
I meet his stare.
He shrugs. “She left, you know. Right after your run. Didn't even stay to see you win.”
Something hot and uncomfortable twists in my gut. “And?”
