“How are we going to get her to believe that?”
“By making sure she knows she’s part of this team,” I answered. “It’s always been the four of us—you, me, Nick, and Penna. That wheelchair Nick is in might be permanent, but the one Penna’s riding in sure as hell is not. She’ll be back raising hell in a few months.”
“Physically, maybe. But she’s going dark, man. I don’t know if we’ll get her back in the right head space to compete, and you can bet the X Games are off the table for her. She’ll barely be out of a cast in time, let alone in competition shape.”
I blew my breath out slowly, watching it steam. “Yeah, well, if anyone is going to get there, it will be Penna. She’ll be out of that cast in no time and back on her bike before the docs tell her it’s a good idea.”
“That’s our Rebel,” Pax said with a grin, giving a little nod to her stage name.
Wilder, Rebel, Nova, and Nitro…the Original Renegades. We might have started in Paxton’s backyard and the local skate park, but we were bigger now, with at least twenty Renegades on the ship and more than a few fledglings. No matter how big we got, it would always come back to the four of us. After a decade of risking our lives together, we were a closer family than my biological one. I would give up anything for them.
You already have.
The lift came to an end, and we jumped onto the luscious snow beneath us. God, I missed the crunch, the flow, the way my body was pushed to its limits with only a board beneath my feet. Not that I didn’t love skateboarding, but snowboarding was always going to be my number-one love.
“Did you smooth everything out for Gabe and Alex?” I asked as we studied the options beneath us.
“Yeah. The program wasn’t too happy about taking them on at second term, but I leaned pretty heavily on the issue.”
I snorted. “Since you own the ship and all.”
“That may have helped,” he admitted. “I know you need them, so it had to be done. They actually flew in this morning, so they’ll be ready to start class with us.”
“They’re the best big-mountain riders of our generation.”
“You’re the best big-mountain rider of our generation,” he corrected.
I shrugged. Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t. But I knew that there was a difference between cocky and confident, and I needed those guys with me in the Himalayas. I needed their judgment and experience to temper my own.
“Hey, let’s hit this run,” Pax suggested as the cameras caught up to us, nodding toward the black-labeled slope. “It goes right by the place where Leah’s watching.”
I laughed. “Sure, we’ll go show off for your girlfriend.” We traversed to where the black run started while I mentally cursed the camera crew. Try to keep up on this one. “Speaking of Leah, did her roommate get here? We probably need to include her on the Nepal shit, right?” There were a ton of moving pieces to get that trip perfect, and now I’d need to add one more.
Paxton stiffened next to me. “Yeah, she’s here.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, slapping his back. “Her friend cramping your solo time with the missus?”
He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
“Hey, Nova,” the same sweetly feminine voice called as she skied over to us. The blonde was back. “We have a little time before the ship leaves port. Want to grab a drink at the bottom of the hill?”
Want to fuck me so I have a story to take home? That was what she was really asking. Usually I wouldn’t mind, but something about watching Pax and Leah lately was getting to me.
Which really sucked.
“I think we’re pretty tight on time here, but maybe if you grab me back at the ship?” I suggested with a smile and hoped I didn’t hurt her feelings.
“I’ll be on the pool deck.” She grinned. “Oh, and I’m Erin,” she offered.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. “I’m—”
“Nova,” she answered for me, her girlfriend behind her twittering.
Landon. “Right.” She wasn’t interested in who I really was, just the persona, which was fine. But it’s not. Besides, it was better than the girls who thought they’d be more than a one-night stand, be the one to reawaken my iced-over heart.
None of them stood a chance.
None of them were her.
I shoved the thought back as far as I could get it in my head—and slammed the door shut. The minute I opened it I was useless, barely functional, and I wasn’t going back there anytime soon.
“Well, we’ll see you on board,” Erin said, giving me a pretty obvious once-over before heading back to the easier slope with her friend.
“You didn’t seem too interested,” Pax said as he pulled down his goggles.
I did the same, the world taking on the sharpened hue that my specialized lenses gave it. “It’s because I’m not.”
“Ah.” He nodded slowly, like he understood.
He didn’t understand shit.
“Ah, what?” I asked, briefly checking around us to make sure the camera crew was out of mic range.
“Maybe you’re ready to stop fucking around?”
“Hardly,” I snapped.
He shrugged. “She was pretty.”
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Yeah, she’d been an eight.
Problem was I wanted an eleven, and I only knew of one in the entire fucking world. One with hair blacker than night, a tight, toned body that had fit mine to a T, and almond-shaped chocolate eyes that made me forget my name, but never hers.
“Yeah, well, she isn’t what I want.” Let it go.
He nodded. “Okay.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I said, okay.”
“That’s not what you meant.”
“Stop reading into shit. If you don’t want the girl, I really don’t care. I wish you’d stop self-medicating, because it’s eating you up. But that’s none of my business, right?”
My jaw locked. “Let’s just go.”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he said, then rocketed down the hill.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my mind, but once she was in it there was no going back.
I tried to think of the blonde, to fill my head with her face, her offer, the same way I could use her body later to fill the hole in my soul for a good hour or so, but it was no good.
My head swam with her face, her eyes, her incredibly smart mouth. She would have tossed me a kiss and headed down the hill with Pax. She would keep up with me move for move, pushing me farther, faster.
Two and a half years and my chest still felt like it was caving in whenever I thought about her.
Rachel. I let her name roll through me, allowing her in for just a moment. Just this ride, I promised myself as I launched down the run. If I gave myself these thirty seconds with her memory, I could shut off the tap once we hit the bottom.
I moved with the run, wondering where she was, what she was doing. Did she still hate me? I hoped so. I deserved it.
Lord knew I hated myself enough for the both of us.
The problem with love was that once it was gone, there was no filling that hole, no substitute for that euphoria. Losing love came with withdrawal symptoms for which there was no known relief.
At least none that I’d found, anyway.