In and amongst the rest of my days-of-the-week undies and cotton t-shirt bras, I locate a black lace one that Wren bought me for my very first Crush date earlier this year. Little does she know, it never saw the light of day.
Until now.
I doubt she would approve of me using it in this circumstance, but that’s neither here nor there.
Tugging it on, I clasp it behind my back and then adjust my boobs so they’re sitting nicely. I’ve never had much in the way of cleavage, having always been a proud member of the itty-bitty titty committee, but the push up style works miracles.
I pull on the matching black lace thong, and position myself on the bed, laying on my stomach. The angle allows me to snap a sexy picture, cleavage on full display, and the curve of my ass visible behind me.
Nerves buzz under my skin as I type out a message and hit send.
Looking forward to it
CHAPTER 36
JETT
Today is goingto be fucking great.
It’s the day of the World Cup qualifier. Whistler is an incredible mountain to ski, there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and I’m first up, which means I’ll get to make the first tracks in the freshly groomed snow.
Not to mention, the photo Poppy sent me is seared on the inside of my eyelids. The image of her in that black lace bra, her cheeks flushed, lips pink and bitten, sends testosterone coursing through my veins. Excitement hums under my skin. I’m back in my element.
I’m amped up.
I pull my phone out of the breast pocket of my parka. Normally I don’t ride with my phone on me, I’ve lost or broken a few too many that way. But I promised Poppy last night that I’d text her before my event and send her a picture immediately after finishing. Before I have a chance to type out a message to her, one comes through.
POPPY
Good luck today! Cordelia and I are watching and cheering you on! XO
My heart does a backflip at the way she’s signed off the message, but something snags in my mind.
What are you doing watching from home and not the café? You love working Sundays. They’re your busiest days.
I can hear Dan trying to get my attention as I wait for a reply, chewing my bottom lip. One doesn’t come, and now Dan’s tone is getting increasingly frantic, so I slide my phone back into my jacket pocket.
“You’re almost up,” Dan says, prepping my skis, rubbing a solid wax bar up and down the underside so nothing impedes my speed. “Remember what we talked about. Don’t be a shit head out there.”
I flash him my infamous cheeky grin and a wink.
“Disappointment is a result of setting expectations too high. You should know that by now,” I retort.
Dan shakes his head and chuckles before walking over to me and handing me my skis. He puts a heavy hand on my shoulder, and his expression turns serious.
“I want to see you win the whole damn thing, son.”
A lump catches in my throat at his choice in words.Son.I always knew that deep down Dan cared about me, and on some level I always saw him as a father-figure, but the word resonates within me. That he cares enough to care what I do, about the choices I make.
“Just play it safe, like we talked about.”
I nod, my mouth forming a tight line to keep me from saying what I want to. If Dan knows me at all, he’d know that playing it safe is not my default setting. When you’re trying to achieve the things I want to—winning the World Cup—playing it safe is not the way to do it.
“I’m all in,” I answer, hoping that my answer is enough to satisfy him before I place my skis at the starting gate and clip into my bindings.
I can hear the announcers, their words slightly muffled in the microphones, but I know well enough to know they’re gearing up for the buzzer to sound. I turn back to Dan and flash him another wink.
“Later, losers.”
