I open my bag in the new hotel room.Lukas is already sprawled on the other bed, scrolling through his phone, half-grinning at something his daughter texted.He doesn't mention it, but I catch the flicker of relief in his eyes.It's always there after a safe day on the hill.
The room's old-school but fancy.Organizers always put top athletes in the best spots.A little flex.
He switches on the TV.He knows I don't care.We've roomed together for two seasons now.We don't get in each other's way.
He mutters, "Matteo looked loose on the flats.You'll want that line tomorrow."His advice always lands dry, never dramatic, but it sticks.
I'm wrecked.The race is one thing, the beer another, but the eight-hour travel finished me.I take out my toothbrush and collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
I replay that conversation with Katharina.
For one, I almost kissed her.And I don't regret that.For a moment, it felt like it could be simple between us.
I get why she holds back.I even enjoy it.There's something irresistible about a woman who sheds her armor, one piece at a time.But yeah—it's annoying too.
Still, it stung.Hearing her talk to Brenner like I'm a brand to be optimized.I know the game.Iamthe product.But hearing it fromher?
That's different.
And those questions she asked—meant to make me think?She's good at that.I knew it from the first dinner.But do I want that kind of introspection in my life?Hell, no.
In part, I tried to kiss her just to avoid giving answers.
Always after stories, always digging.But when she melts in my arms, that sharp mind of hers goes quiet.
Still, maybe she's right.Perhaps it's time I throw the press a bone.
And if I do it, I want it to be with her.
What is there to write about, though?
As far as I know, she's my only weakness.
I'm happy.Skiing.Winning.Racing.Smiling.
My team—I always thank them.My family, the federation, even assholes like Brenner get their credit in quotes and posts.
What more am I supposed to say?
Maybe… I'll let her decide.
Yeah.That's it.I'll let her ask the questions.
I'll let her strip my soul.
And maybe, just maybe, we'll get close enough in the process that she lets me strip her body.
Damn.
That's the kind of thought that'll keep me awake.
Guess I deserve that.
At breakfast, I spot her at the coffee machine again.
Hair up this time.No lipstick.Still beautiful, but different, less curated.Like someone who didn't sleep much but refused to show it.
I hesitate a second longer than usual before walking over.
