“Who is that?” I ask Dax as he comes out of the lodge. My stomach growls at the mouthwatering cheeseburger he's just about finished devouring.

Stuffing the last piece in his mouth, he positions his goggles on top of his head and squints in the direction I was looking. “Not sure. They all look the same, but even with those snow pants on, I can tell that her ass is definitely slapable.”

Dax has great vision, but you could be halfway from here to Denver and still notice this girl. Then she does her signature move. One she perfected especially for the Winter Classics. One that the announcers won't stop raving about.

And suddenly I’m glad I didn’t get in on that cheeseburger when my stomach pitches. Because again, I caught myself checking out my ex-friend’s little sister.

“Come on. Let's go get a beer.” I knock Dax's shoulder, but he doesn't budge.

Dax swallows his last mouthful of burger. “You're going to have to face her eventually. Now that the Winter Classics are coming up we’re going to be around the women’s team more often,” he says, zipping his coat. “If I were you, I'd be searching for the quickest way to get her out of those snow pants.”

I roll my eyes. As if. “I don't need her shitty attitude today.”

I unhook the straps of my board, step out and start walking toward the lodge.

“You're never a pussy, what's the deal?” Dax follows behind.

“Nothing, I've seen her, okay? It’s not like I’ve gotten through these past few years without seeing her. I just prefer not to.” Why am I even explaining myself? Dax should get it.

He shrugs. “If I leave this slope, coach will be slapping my ass…and not in a good way.”

I forgot that Dax got in trouble for having more fun than training last week and that his qualifier event got delayed until tomorrow.

“Shit. Go.”

“I'll meet you in the bar in twenty minutes.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Twenty minutes and coach will still have your ass. I'll catch up to you tonight.”

My gaze veers to the halfpipe, seeing Mia at the bottom, smiling and laughing with some girl I don't know.

“We could double date.”

I snap my eyes back to Dax. “Go!”

He holds his hands up in the air, heading to the far chairlift.

“There you are,” the high-pitched voice of my agent slaps me on the back. Not that I'm complaining about the new sponsor I acquired last week because of her.

“Hey, Candice, I was just heading out.”

She's bundled up in her snow gear. Boots, tight ass jeans and a long coat. A USA hat and glove set she obviously just bought, not vibing with the rest of her designer outfit.

“No, you're not. We have a late lunch meeting this afternoon.”

I rack my brain for a second. I would remember a meeting since I had plans of being on the slopes all day. “I don’t have anything on the schedule.”

“It's an impromptu one. I worked some magic and I think you'll be happy to hear what I got for my two top clients.” She pulls out her tube of ChapStick, unable to take the cap off with her gloved hands, but she keeps trying anyway.

I take the ChapStick from her and pop the cap off. “Thanks.” She coats her lips again. “I've never been this dry in my entire life.”

“Two top clients?” I ask, dreading her answer.

“Yeah, you and Mia Salter. Now come on, she's meeting us at the restaurant.”

Candice pulls on my arm, but my feet stay planted to the ground. She's got to be kidding me. Mia and me sharing a table? We'll be lucky to make it past drinks. Does she think because we cordially made it down the hill yesterday that means we're cool with one another?

“How long has Mia been your client?” My boots click on the concrete pathway to the lodge.

“Well,” she says, waiting for me to catch up. “Mia was my first sports client.”

I think for a moment, if Candice got Mia to hold all those companies on her board and the sponsorship with one of the biggest brands, I guess my cousin Jagger picked the right person to represent me. I shouldn’t make waves and fuck it up.

“I have to change, I'll meet you there in fifteen.”

She nods, pulling out her ChapStick again as she stares over at the slopes. “Sounds good. I'll order you a water.”

“If Mia Salter is at the table, you can order me a vodka tonic and leave the bottle at the table.”

She purses her lips and shakes her head. “You two need to learn to get along.”

I ignore her, heading into the lodge.

It’ll be a cold day in hell before Mia forgives me for what I’ve done.

---

I walk into Warm ‘N Toasty, the comfy log cabin restaurant with a large double-sided fireplace nestled in the middle and comfy leather booths lining the outside edges of the room. It's the go-to for most of the riders because of its proximity to the chairlifts and loose dress code.

Though, Dax might’ve forced the owner’s hand when he showed up last year in only his boxer briefs. To his defense, it was an unseasonably warm winter day. The girls weren't complaining.

My eyes scan the room until I spot Candice's arm up in the air, waving me over, while a sour looking Mia sits across from her. I weave through the tables, fist-pumping and high-fiving a few fellow boarder’s hands. They all study where I'm going with curiosity when I don’t stop to chat.

Mia has one yoga pant clad leg propped up on the edge of the bench and a slice of pickle an inch from being devoured into her mouth.

“Ladies,” I say, shrugging off my coat and hanging it on the hooks between the booths.

I slide in on the other side of the booth next to Candice. Mia doesn't even so much as glance in my direction.

“I got you a water.” Candice eyes the tall bottle of water on the table in front of me.

“Thanks.” I snap the seal open, downing a hefty gulp, my gaze trained on Mia the entire time.

She bites off a piece of the pickle, showing her teeth like she’s a guard dog who’s cornered me. When she’s done chewing, she brings her drink to her lips and sips it.

I turn my attention back to Candice. “So, are we celebrating something?” I ask.

“Great idea.” Candice raises her hand to flag down the waitress.

The red-haired waitress, Natalie, stops at the edge of our table, an array of empty hot chocolate mugs on her tray. “Hey Rogue,” she says and then looks across the booth from me. “Mia.” Her eyes widen and she does a double take at the both of us.

Yeah, you got it right. Grady Kale and Mia Salter are sitting at the same table together.

“What can I get you?” she grants Candice her undivided attention.

“I need a bottle of champagne.”

“I don't drink champagne,” I mumble.

“Me either,” Mia murmurs.

Candice's attention moves from me to Mia and then back to Natalie. “Well, I do. Just a glass then.”

“I'll grab that for you now.” Her hand lands on the edge of the table, pausing for a second. “Rogue, do you want anything else?”

Mia scoffs, but when my gaze shoots in her direction, she pretends to concentrate on her Bloody Mary.

“Um...yeah, Nat, can you grab me an Amstel?”

Nat's knuckles knock the wood table. “Sure thing.”

She's a good distance away before Mia's gaze stops following her. She has to know Nat, she's the owner’s daughter and one of Mia's biggest fans.

“Surprise, surprise, another female who caters to Grady.”

Candice ignores Mia’s snide comment. “What's up with the Rogue thing?” she asks, sipping her mix drink.

Mia snickers, twirling her celery around in her drink. “That’s what they call him because he only cares about himself.” She looks across the table, daring me to argue with her.

“How’s that?” Candice asks, a little warily.

I bet she knows for sure now that having both of us as clients is a bad idea.

“My friends started calling me that when I was younger because of the tricks I’d do. I’d try stuff no one else would dare to.” My eyes bore over at Mia, but apparently her drink is still more interesting than me because she can’t meet my gaze. “I set myself apart.”

“More like you isolated yourself. I think your nickname should be changed to Ogre.” She laughs to herself, pulling the piece of celery from her drink, smiling to herself.

“Okay, you two. I know there's history, but we have to remain professional,” Candice says.

“Ogre, huh? I don't think you were staring at me yesterday like I was Shrek.”

Nat comes back, placing a glass of champagne in front of Candice and a beer down in front of me. I lift the bottle to my lips as Nat slides a plate of pickles, celery, olives and a pepperoni stick in front of Mia.

“Thanks, Nat.” She grabs the pepperoni stick and chomps down on it aggressively. “I love biting down on a good piece of meat.”

Nat glances to me and then hurries off to help some other customers. I wish I could go with her.

“There wouldn't be a problem if you kept us in our assigned corners,” I say to Candice.

“Unfortunately, that's not a possibility. Why do you think I'm celebrating?” She lifts her champagne.

Mia's foot falls to the floor and she lets the celery plop back down into her glass then leans forward, fixing her eyes on Candice.

I swivel in my seat, giving Candice all my attention.

“What exactly are you celebrating?” I ask.

Candice's smoky grey eyes move between the two of us and then she plasters on the fakest smile I've ever witnessed, and I've seen many. “You were both chosen to represent the snowboarding team on a press tour. Yay!”

Mia leans back in the booth, downing the rest of her Bloody Mary. “Not going to happen.”

Once again, Mia Salter and I see eye-to-eye about something.