Probably.
Maybe.
She’s fine. I cut into my chicken with unnecessary force.
Whether Jules was being her usual dramatic self by forgoing lunch or actually dying, I didn’t care. It had absolutely nothing to do with me.
By the time lunch ended, I’d pushed Jules out of my mind…for the most part. I didn’t blink when Ava left to check on Jules and bring her lunch, but my muscles knotted when she insisted Alex and I hit the slopes without her.
I’d avoided one-on-one interactions with Alex all morning. It seemed my luck had run out.
I fixed my eyes on the horizon as we walked toward the triple black diamond, our conversation consisting of nothing more than the soft crunch of our boots in the snow.
We’d exchanged a few sentences here and there at lunch, but Ava and I had dominated the discussion while Alex ate quietly.
That had always been our dynamic, even before our falling out. I talked, he listened. I was the extrovert, and he was the introvert. Ava used to jokingly call us yin and yang.
I could say the same for her relationship with Alex. Her sunny optimism was as far removed from Alex’s icy cynicism as the sun was from the moon, but they somehow made it work.
“Fifty bucks says Ava stays with Jules and doesn’t join us,” Alex said as we approached the ski run.
I snorted. “No bet. Jules always drags her into shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if we returned to the cabin and found the place on fire.”
Unless, of course, Jules really was incapacitated. Ava hadn’t elaborated on what she’d meant when she said Jules “wasn’t feeling well.”
Was it a migraine? A stomachache? Was she hurt after she’d crashed into me earlier?
Worry clawed up my throat before I forced it back down. She’d stomped off well enough after my joke. She was fine. If she wasn’t, Ava would’ve freaked out more.
Before Alex could answer, our phones emitted simultaneous pings. We checked our messages, and I shook my head when I read the texts.
Ava: I’m staying with Jules for a bit. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you at dinner.
Ava: Have fun! xx
“You called it.” I pocketed my cell. I wasn’t sure whether Jules needed Ava to stay with her, or if this was another one of Ava’s attempts to force me and Alex to make up. Probably both. “What’s up with Jules, anyway? Ava didn’t say.” I kept my tone as casual as possible.
“I didn’t ask.”
Of course he didn’t. Alex only cared about two people, and both their names started with an A.
“Well, I’m sure she’s okay.” I slid my goggles off my head and over my eyes.
“You seem unusually concerned with her well-being. I thought you hated her.”
My spine turned rigid at the implication. “I’m not, and I do.”
“Right.”
I ignored his knowing glance and angled my head down the hill. “Race you to the bottom.”
It was part olive branch, part distraction. I’d been handing out a lot of those lately. But if I could thaw my relationship with Jules—only a little bit, for short bursts of time—perhaps I could do the same with Alex.
It didn’t mean I forgave him. I had no trouble holding onto a grudge, but actively hating someone was exhausting, especially when you were stuck in close proximity to them for an extended period of time. And these days, I was just so damn tired all the time. Even when I was physically fine, I was mentally exhausted.
Life chipped away at me, bit by bit, and I didn’t know how to reclaim any of the pieces I lost.
Surprise passed through Alex’s face before the tiniest of smiles graced his lips. “Loser buys drinks for the rest of the weekend.”
“Considering I’m a struggling medical resident and you’re a fucking millionaire, I’m getting the short end of the stick,” I grumbled.
“Don’t insult me. I’m a billionaire,” he said. “But if you have that little faith in your skiing ability…” He shrugged. “We can call it off.”
I scowled. I hated his reverse psychology bullshit, yet I always fell for it. “I have plenty of faith in my athleticism, desk jockey.” I held out my hand. “It’s a deal.”
Alex let out a soft laugh, unperturbed by the desk jockey insult. He made a shit ton of money sitting behind his desk, so I guess I wouldn’t be bothered either if I were him.
He shook my hand with a competitive glint in his eyes. “Deal.”
And just like that, we were off.
We were both pros at skiing, so it didn’t take us long before we were flying down the hill.
We weren’t supposed to ski such a difficult run at such high speed, but neither of us had ever given a damn about such rules.
My stress from work, my tension with Alex, my disturbing new fixation with Jules....they all melted away as I entered my element.
Adrenaline pumped in my veins, fueled by the wind whipping against my face and the cold air stealing into my lungs. My heart was a wild animal uncaged, my senses sharpened blades that picked up on every detail of the world around me—the flecks of snow spraying up at me, the whistle of the wind and the quiet roar of my heart, every bump and ridge as I tore down my first triple black diamond.
A black-clad figure whizzed by me.
Alex.
My face split into a grin as my competitiveness kicked up another notch. I drove pressure onto the tip of my outside ski and blew past him.
I thought I heard Alex laugh behind me, but the wind carried the sound away before it fully reached my ears.
I made a tight turn around a jutting rock, then another hairpin turn to follow the path of the run. Most people would freak out going this fast on a triple black, but for me, nothing beat the rush of escaping death by the skin of my teeth.
Between Ava’s near-drowning, my mom’s suicide, and the people I saved—and couldn’t save—in the emergency room, Death and I were old acquaintances. I hated the bastard, and every time I survived one of my escapades, it was a metaphorical fuck you to the reaper.
One of these days, he would catch me as he did everyone else. But not today.
More turns. More obstacles that, if I were a less experienced skier, would’ve landed me in the ER as a patient instead of a doctor. I took each one as they came, never slowing down, though I didn’t go quite as fast as I would on a normal slope.
Alex and I kept roughly the same pace until the end, when I beat him to the bottom of the trail by less than five seconds.
Satisfaction filled my lungs. “Looks like drinks are on you this weekend.” I pushed my goggles back up my head, my chest heaving with exertion. “Good thing you’re a billionaire with a b, because I’m asking the bartender for the most expensive drink they serve. Every time.”
“Not yet.” Alex narrowed his eyes. It was always hilarious seeing his reaction when he lost because it happened so infrequently. “Best out of three.”
“Changing the rules after the fact.” I tsked in disappointment. “You’re a sore fucking loser, Volkov.”
“I don’t lose.”
“What do you call what just happened?” I gestured at the steep, winding trail behind us.
Rare mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Alternative winning.”