Another pause.
I should walk away.This moment isn’t helping anything.
Because his eyes don’t move off mine, steady as if I’m the only thing holding him still.Because the corner of his mouth almost twitches into a grin, like he’s daring me to keep sparring.Because the air between us feels thin, charged—so thin I can feel the heat of him even without touch.My fingers itch, traitorous, like they want to close the distance.
He shifts just slightly, like he’s about to step closer.His hand flexes at his side, veins standing out, then curls into a fist.He’s holding himself back, I know it.And the fact that he has to restrain himself sends a hot shiver straight through me.
I blink first, glance back out the window.Snow falls like static, blurring the peaks into a soft mess of white and shadow.More work for the diligent snowcats.
“You’ve made it this far,” I say.“Can’t be that slow.”
He doesn’t answer.Just watches me the way people watch avalanche fences; curious if they’re there for safety… or for show.
I hold his gaze a second too long.My pulse trips.My throat tightens.His jaw shifts, teeth grazing his bottom lip like he’s stopping words, or something else, from breaking loose.
Then I shake my head.Reset.
“I’ve got a call sheet to rewrite.”
It’s not a lie.
But it’s not the reason I walk away, either.
I head back down the hall.Steady steps.Not fast.
I don’t hear him follow.
And I’m disappointed.
I wanted him to follow.To press me against the glass and kiss me like the rules never existed.
Yes, it might ruin my career.It might reduce me to the cliché I swore I’d never be.
But when I glance at my reflection in the stairwell mirror… my cheeks are flushed, my pupils blown wide.Desire written across my face.
I’m not sure I care anymore.
Outside, the snowcats keep chewing the hill, diligent ants with steel jaws, while I pretend I’m not about to let one man ruin my plans.
Two days have passed, and we haven't been alone since.Probably for the best, my reputation and my sanity thank me.
Thomas lost the downhill to Matteo but took it with the graciousness of a gentleman.Today, though, he won the Giant Slalom with his usual ease.
Two wins and a runner-up across the Colorado weekend — he leaves Beaver Creek with +240 points on the swing.
My head is about to split after the North American legs of the tour.Not to mention the emotional load.I need a break.
Good thing I planned a coffee with Maddie.She's in Colorado, too, just for the weekend.
I managed to handle all the press chaos and pushed the rest of the work to later.As I walk down the stairs after changing, I find the guys in the lobby, singing and laughing.Apparently, the fan party has moved indoors, just without the fans.
I know I should stay.Niko made the podium for the first time, and the rest of the team has reasons to celebrate.Lukas and Martin scored solid points in the speed races, and everyone's in high spirits.The coaches are smiling.I even spot some of the techs, including Thomas's chief technician, Roman Gruber, holding a beer.
That's rare.The techs are like horse-keepers.While everyone else celebrates, they stay with their darlings in their dark little stables.But after a weekend like this, even they make an exception.
Still, I don't see Madison every day.
"Didn't have time to properly congratulate you, guys," I beam at them.
