Jordan jumped and everyone looked at Mara.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Mara said, politeness springing forward like a defense mechanism. “Mine broke. I need my other pair.”
Mara felt out of sorts and kind of pissed. It was probably a blessing in disguise that hers had broken during training ratherthan a race, but she couldn’t help but feel like they had brokenbecauseshe was wearing them for training.
“They’re in my room. I forgot them on my bedside table. I’m so sorry.”
“Okay.” Mara’s mind raced. She needed to get another pair regardless. She was sponsored by the brand but didn’t have any of the extras they had sent her over the years. They were all at her condo in Anchorage. So she would need to buy a pair or find the team’s cache of swag. But then which pair would be her competition ones? She wouldn’t get a chance to make one of them lucky.
“I can go get them for you,” Jordan said.
“No, you cannot. You have training right now. You can get them for Mara later.Right, Mara?” Coach Wu said, and Mara suddenly felt very silly.
“Of course.”
“Here’s my room key. It’s room 2B. They’re on my bedside table. Just go grab them, and I’ll find you to get my key back later.” Jordan practically tripped over herself to give Mara the key.
“Are you sharing with someone? Or are you staying with family?”
“Kirby. But she’s filming something.”Of course she was.“She won’t be back until this evening, so you won’t be disturbing her.”
“Thank you. I’ll get this back to you. I won’t forget.” Mara held up the key, and Jordan nodded with a bit of chagrin.
Mara showered quickly, threw on sweats and a tank top, and walked through an internal hallway in the apartment complex to Jordan’s unit.
Her brain couldn’t stop replaying her sunglasses flying off. Bad luck. Weird luck. Was it an omen?
She knew she wouldn’t settle down until she was holding the other pair of sunglasses.
She keyed into Jordan and Kirby’s suite. The team had booked all the skiers in a complex that was within walking distance of the training facilities and trails. Their apartments were nice, but Mara hated sharing. She could have insisted on renting her own apartment,hadinsisted on that in the past, in fact, but it was working out okay this year. She’d specifically asked to share with Lindsey, who she got along with better than most anyone in the world. And Mara felt more integrated with the team than in the past. She’d even walked to breakfast with Lindsey a time or two. And she’d shared her sunglasses. She was being a team player for once in her life.
Jordan’s apartment looked identical to hers, so it was easy to spot the bedrooms off the kitchen and dining area.
Jordan had said the sunglasses were in her room, so Mara headed through the living room to the hallway, only to hear a gasp. She froze.
It was a sex noise. Her body knew it before her brain had caught up. But no one was supposed to be there. Jordan was training. Kirby was filming.
Supposedto be filming, at least, because as Mara flattened herself to the nearest wall, it became quite evident that Kirby was not filming but was in fact in her bedroom having sex.
Mara didn’t know what to do. Her mind immediately reeled with images of Kirby twisting naked in the sheets with Apollo. There were rumors about them, of course. In fact, Mara knew of no fewer than five skiers Kirby had been rumored to screw around with. Mara pretended she was above that type of gossip, but obviously she wasn’t.
Once, she’d seen paparazzi photos of Kirby kissing one of the women from that dating show she’d done years ago. Not the most recent dating show. The first one Kirby had filmed justmonths after the Beijing Olympics. Mara had kept that picture open in a tab on her phone for years. It unstuck something in her chest to look at it sometimes. To examine it. The way Kirby’s hand gripped the back of the woman’s head. The way she had seemed so carefree. It gave Mara something to direct her anger at. This picture of Kirby living her life while Mara’s felt like it had fallen apart.
But now Mara let her brain gothereinstead. To Kirby taking apart that woman in the picture who had looked too perfect to be real. But Kirby was real. She was hot, and chaotic, and imperfect, and Mara had spent way, way too long trying to ignore that and failing miserably.
A moan filtered into the living room, and Mara’s knees about hit the floor. She needed to leave. To put one foot in front of the other and get out of there. But she was rooted to the spot, her brain screaming at her to leave but her legs incapable.
A muffled “Oh, God” echoed through the thin walls, followed by a sharp, short cry.
Jesus, Mara had fucked up. She could not believe she had listened to Kirby have… She couldn’t even allow herself to think the word.
What had she come here to get?
It didn’t matter. She had to leave.
As soon as she could draw a breath. As soon as she could move without passing out.
Fight or flight or freeze.
