The weather is warmer today, which means the bottom of the hill could cause some problems for the skiers. I stand at the bottom because I can't be up on top with her—her mother might push me down the hill.

“Hey, has she been up yet?” Mia comes up alongside me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“No,” I say nodding with my head at the hill. “There's still three skiers before her.”

“Hey, man.” Grady fist bumps me.

Another skier shows up on the giant screen. Not Demi, but the three of us watch her come down the course. She's fast, although I don't know everything it takes to make a great downhill skier, her time overtook the first place.

“Two more and she’s up,” Mia says, and leans back against Grady's chest. His arms come around her so that she’s firmly wrapped in his grip. Those two couldn't be more lovesick.

“We haven't missed her, right?” Skylar runs up to our group huffing and puffing, stopping next to me.

“I forgot how hard this one is to get to.” Beckett, who seems equally as exasperated as Skylar, stands alongside her.

“No. There's two more to go before her.” Mia gives the wicked witch the information she seeks.

“Hey,” Skylar elbows me and I look down at her. “I'm sorry.” With a fleeting look at Beckett, she focuses back on me. “I know we're on the same side, so…” she places her hands in the air, “backing off.”

I nod. She had some fair points. Points I haven't forgotten.

I've known for a while that Demi and me have been crossing a line—that we're more like a loving couple than fuck buddies. The notion of her being my lucky charm hasn’t been my motivation for wanting to hang out with her for a while now. But I'm still the guy who doesn't want a permanent address. I don't want to settle down and have two point five kids in the suburbs and spend my day at a desk job. Demi deserves what her mom found. To be able to go into any store and buy whatever she wants. To go on luxury vacations filled with expensive dinners with extravagant jewelry around her neck. Someone predictable and responsible and give her all the things that she needs.

“Thank you,” I say. “Is it gonna be hard to bite back your words?”

She elbows me in the ribs. Fucking hard.

“We'll just forget it happened.”

She focuses in front of her. Beckett looks at me over her head with his I'm-the-legend grin on his face for getting Skylar to apologize. Maybe he is because Skylar reminds me of myself a little and I rarely apologize for anything.

While all this is going on I miss another racer, but she doesn't make the winner’s board.

The five us stand there in silence. One more racer before Demi and my heart starts thumping in my chest.

“Where's Salty?” I ask anyone who will answer because I need to redirect my attention to anything other than the fact that Demi’s next.

“He's busy.” Grady waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Mia elbows him in the gut.

“You can't get mad, he watches us together and says nothing.”

Mia turns to me, a look of annoyance on her face. “The girl is like...so not good enough for him.”

Grady laughs, and Mia elbows him again. “You're hitting a little too low there. You do want kids one day, right?”

Like someone turned on a light switch, Mia turns around, her arms stretched to the back of his head, her eyes looking up at him lovingly. “You want some?”

Grady glances at me for a second with the biggest grin on his face. Then he fixates back on Mia. “Of course. I want to see what me and you together looks like.”

She jumps into his arms and plants her lips to his. Grady's everything I’m not. Mia would nail him here on the hill for saying he wants kids. Another checkmark in the wrong column for Demi and Dax being right for each other.

“Here she is.” Skylar hits my arm.

What is it with these women?

Demi's at the top, she circles her neck around, positions her poles and her eyes shut briefly, her head moving like she's mentally going through the course.

“You got this, girl,” I whisper to myself as I stare up at the screen.

The announcer crackles and fades, but I catch Harrison. She leaves the gate, her body bending, her skis flawlessly moving down the line.

“Great one,” Grady says.

She's under the mark at the halfway point, already beating the first-place pace.

“I have no idea how she does this. I'd close my eyes the entire way down,” Mia says, her arm now entwined in mine, her hand on my forearm.

“She loves speed,” Skylar says.

All their voices fade into background noise.

“That's it. Don't overdo it,” I say quietly.

My gut clenches as she takes a turn that looks like she could lose her footing at any moment.

“You're the best, baby. The gold is yours.”

She's coming into view on the mountain, so I shift my eyes from the television screen to her and I watch with a dry mouth and lump in my throat as she comes through the hardest area.

She lands her jump with minimal air. It's hard to process anything completely because of how damn fast she’s moving.

“That's it. She had to have done it.” My heart finally beats again as she crosses the line.

Demi carves to a stop, moving her goggles off her eyes and staring at the screen. A minute later, the time comes up and she's number one. With fifteen other skiers behind her, she knows there's a chance she could get overtaken, but my gut says she's got it.

She glances around the crowd and her eyes find me.

“Congratulations,” I mouth.

Her smile grows wider and she unclips from her skis and heads through the inflatable.

“Look who's talking to themselves now?” Mia says, a cocky grin on her face.

Ignoring her, I weave my way through all the people, grabbing my girl by the waist and swinging her around.

Carla looks on with a scowl, but whatever because her dad and grandma have smiles on their faces.

“You did it!”

She laughs. “Not yet. We'll see.”

I lower her to the ground, the spandex of her jumpsuit sliding easily down my body. “You'll be on the center podium.” I wink.

Our friends come and swallow her up with congratulations. I watch from afar, her eyes seeking me out every now and then. For the first time ever, I wish I could be one of those guys who could work twelve hours a day in an office and had an appreciation for white picket fences.