Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Name?” the registrar asked.
“Sutton Thorne. Team Summit.” Sutton beamed a smile, and my nerves lessened. If this was what made her glow with happiness, then I’d learn to live with the anxiety.
“Here you go.” The registrar handed over a bib with a number on it. “Waiver?”
I had to trust that Weston knew her capabilities and that her coach wouldn’t put her into a competition she wasn’t ready for. Inwardly cringing, I handed the paper over.
We met up with the rest of the team, then split for the gondola ride. Weston laced my fingers with his, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand as Sutton talked with a few of the other girls.
“She’s trained,” he said softly, so only I could hear. “It’s going to be the easier of the courses, not the extreme stuff you can see over there.” He pointed to the ridge above, where the course looked like a straight-up cliff. “And she’s smart, Callie. She’ll pick a good line.”
“Distract me.”
He squeezed my hand. “How would you feel about getting the condo?”
I looked at him as the gondola made its steady climb. “How would you feel about me getting the condo?”
“I want whatever makes you happy.” His mouth tightened. “But I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss seeing you every day. I’ve gotten so used to being with you all the time that I honestly can’t imagine not being with you.”
My heart freaking soared. “You could always come look at it with me.”
His eyes flared, and the struggle I saw written in the lines of his face made my chest ache. He wasn’t ready. Weston may have been a daredevil when it came to physical risk, but he moved with the emotional speed of a turtle. We were polar opposites that way.
“But you don’t have to,” I assured him. “Just because Sutton and I would be moving out doesn’t mean we wouldn’t still be together.”
“Just in different houses.” His brow furrowed.
“There’s that whole thing called dating. We just kind of jumped into this all backward.” I leaned into him. “You know I love you, right?”
“I know.” He kissed my forehead. “And you know I’m wild about you.”
“I know.” I grinned. Wild wasn’t love, but I’d take it.
Ten minutes later, we were at the base of the competition area, which looked like nothing but untamed backcountry to me as I surveyed the face of the ridge.
“What are you thinking?” Weston asked Sutton as they studied the lay of the land.
“That one looks pretty tame,” Sutton said, pointing up to the ridge.
Compared to the rocky cliffs and dramatic falls on the left, she was right.
“I can drop into that keyhole right there.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied the path. “And it’s got a couple good drops. That one looks like an eight-footer.”
“Solid choice.” He put out his fist and she bumped it. “Use your head.”
“Thorne!” her coach called out.
“Bye, Mom!” She hugged me quickly and headed off with her team to hike to the top of their runs.
“Have to admit, it’s not as bad as I thought,” I said to Weston as we picked our way through the small crowd of spectators. “I kinda thought that was their area.” I motioned toward the right.
Weston laughed. “In the under twelve division? No way.”
I watched her neon-pink hat as the group climbed. “Explain it to me. She picks her own path?”
He nodded. “They’re kind of set. There’s a score for the line she chooses, based on how steep it is, the snow conditions, exposure, and air.”
“Air.” I didn’t take my eyes off Sutton.
“The little jumps.” He rubbed his hand over my back.
“The little cliffs.”
He laughed. “Then she can earn up to three points more depending on how she skis that line. How fluid she is, her technique, style, control.”
The announcer called a name over the portable loudspeaker, and I watched one of the competitors come down, holding my breath the whole time. The crowd clapped as she made it to the bottom.
A dozen more went after her, all choosing different lines.
One girl walked away crying, holding an arm at a morbid angle that was obviously broken.
What the hell had I been thinking?
“From Team Summit, number eight eight two, Sutton Thorne,” the announcer said.
I lifted my camera from the strap around my neck, zooming in as my heart threatened to beat right out of my chest. Sutton’s pink hat appeared, and then the rest of her came into view at the edge of the line.
“Think smart, kid,” Weston whispered.
Sutton dropped into her line. She looked controlled and confident as she hit the first jump, but I didn’t exactly have the most experienced eye to judge as I clicked picture after picture. She landed it and continued down, cutting back and forth through a chute before taking the next jump.