I crack my neck, staring up at the snow hill littered with too many damn novice snow lovers vying for space. Preparing for the Classics jumbles my mind as all the different sides of myself push to the forefront. The responsible one that knows I’m here to do a job. The technical one that’s looking at all the dips and curves of the slope and calculating the best route down. And the kid inside who’s eager for a chance to mess around in the powder.

The grueling hours of training will continue after this pit stop, but I need to recharge and remember why I love this sport. There’s nothing better than alone time on the slopes for that, except maybe veering off to backcountry to discover a new favorite spot.

“There you are!” Candice, my sports agent screams. Her blonde hair flies in front of her eyes from a burst of cold wind and one foot flies up in the air, her fall to the ground not far behind.

I reach out and grab her arm, unable to keep her from hitting the ground completely, but at least her head didn’t meet ice.

“This is all a sign that I should only have summer athletes as my clients.” She laughs at herself, standing up and brushing the snow off her ass.

Candice is bundled up like we're spending the day in Canada. Wait until she has to follow me there for events. I see a soft leather chair in the lodge in her future.

“So, where're the cameras?” I ask.

“We're heading to the back side of the mountain. They've closed off a run for two hours. Make sure you don’t fall and get it right the first time.”

She swings her arm through mine. Probably for her safety. At least that’s what I’m telling myself because when my Hollywood agent cousin, Jagger, recommended Candice be my agent, he immediately followed up with the advice on not to mix business with pleasure.

We’re making small talk when a snowmobile pulls up beside us. The guy introduces himself, grabs my board, strapping it to the machine, then holds the keys out to me.

Today must be my lucky day.

I hop on and just as I'm about to rev up the engine and hightail it where I need to go, Candice tiptoes over on her boots, careful not to slip. She slips on behind me, her thighs pressed to mine, her arms tight around my middle while her cheek is pressed against my back. “Be gentle with me,” she says above the noise of the engine.

It doesn't take long before we're on the other side of the mountain. Cameras are lined up and down the hill, sure to cover every angle of my descent and the sponsor’s logo has been freshly painted into the snow.

I cut the engine and Candice is off and walking with a little more confidence now since the ground isn’t slick from all the traffic of a busy ski day. She talks with Hal, the Creative Director of Gasoline Energy Drinks, for a moment and then the two of them make their way over to me while I wait for my instructions.

“Grady.” Hal sticks out his hand between us. “Congratulations on making the team.”

“Thanks, man.” I take his offering and shake. “Great to be here.”

He nods. We have a good working relationship. I do what he says and try to make his life easy. He, in turn, reports back that I’m easy to work with and that the company should continue to sponsor me.

“I was just telling Candice the other skier is already up there. The two of you will board down the hill at an equal pace, skid to a stop at the bottom. Take off your goggles and say, “We're going to be on fire in Korea thanks to Gasoline Energy Drinks.”

I nod, committing my line to memory. “No back trails today?”

He laughs. “Nope. After you win gold, we'll do one.” He winks, knowing I can't take the chance of injuring myself this close to the Classics, but damn if last year’s promo in backcountry where we helicoptered in isn't fresh on my mind.

“Okay,” Hal says when a guy about my age comes over, hops on the snowmobile and revs it. “Ollie will take you up to your starting point. Try to stay even with the other skier.”

I sit down on the snowmobile, position my goggles over my eyes. “Who's the other boarder?” I ask over the engine.

Candice looks at Hal and Hal to her.

Fuck me.

“Never mind.” I turn to Ollie. “Go.”

He speeds up the hill, a knot stacking on top of a knot for every inch we grow closer to the top. Because I know who’s going to be up there and I know there will be only hatred written all over her face. There always is.

We haven't said more than hi in the years since the…incident...and that's only when other people are present. She loathes me and I don't blame her, but it's been four years. Time for her to act like an adult and the professional athlete she wants to be.

Mia's strapping herself to her board when we pull up, her ass up in the air, front and center and hard not to appreciate. Damn, she's grown. There’s no trace of the lanky body that was once under the curves she boasts now.

She straightens at the sound of the snowmobile approaching, turning to look over her shoulder with eyes so cold that it wouldn’t surprise me to feel a gust of bone-chilling wind from her direction.

“Congrats on making the team,” I say stiffly, stepping off the snowmobile and then bending down to strap my feet to my board.

“You as well.”

Our words are stilted and formal, as if we’re a pair of Englishmen preparing for a game of croquet.

“Let's shred this then.” I place my goggles over my eyes, eager to get this show on the road. Nothing good can come from Mia and I having to be in each other’s presence alone for any length of time. I turn toward the hill and wait for someone to give me the signal that we’re ready to roll.

She says nothing else, but when I steal a glance her way, her posture speaks more than if she outright yelled at me. Her back is ramrod straight, her hands clenched into fists.

“Mia,” Ollie approaches her, tapping her on the shoulder. “I need you two to face one another.”

Well, hello sweetheart. I can’t help but wonder what she looks like under all those layers.

Ollie gives us each a thumbs-up. “I'm going to count to three. Try to stay on pace, okay? They want you stopping at the same time.”

We both nod.

His fingers go up in the air. One. Two. Three.

I leave the platform first, but she catches up to me right away. Our pace is consistent, weaving back and forth down the hill. Nothing crazy, no tricks. Just a leisurely lap down the mountain as if we have all the time in the world. I'm not sure I've done this since I was five.

Mia's the first one to hop over a mound and grab some air. I follow suit because this is boring as fuck and the hell if she'll show off and I won't. I fly up another mound and turn in the air.

I catch sight of Mia studying me under her goggles and I can only imagine she's pissed. Her competitive nature has only grown stronger over the years and I may not be close to her family anymore, but she never could take it when her brother and I left her in our dust down the mountain. She winds through the trees to her right, her body ducking and rising through the obstacles the woods present. Gutsy for a girl who just claimed her spot in the Winter Classics.

I should stay on course. Do a couple lame maneuvers I mastered at the age of ten, but... fuck that. My board follows her path and soon I weave by another tree and gain traction on her. We both fly off a shelf and flip, her air probably as high as mine. Even when Mia Salter is being crazy, she keeps it somewhat safe and cautious.

We land and continue to try to one-up each other as we fly past tree trunks that could ruin our careers, if not our lives.

I ride up one spot and the edge of my board hits a tree. Snow spraying all over me, leaving the tree as the only spot of green on the hill.

Somewhere along the ride, we end up back on the run, me a few seconds before her. I reach the end first and carve out a spot for us at the bottom, where we take off our goggles and stare into the camera.

“We're going to be on fire in Korea thanks to Gasoline Energy Drinks,” we say in unison.

“Cut.” Hal stomps over, his big boots leaving indents in the snow. “What the hell was that? Turn around.”

Mia and I truly make eye contact for the first time. Her eyes are a crisp sparkling blue, her lips a light pink that matches the rosiness of her cheeks and she’s breathing heavily. When did she become so hot? The way she’s panting from exertion makes me wonder if it’s reminiscent of what she’s like after she comes.

As soon as that thought enters my brain, I scrunch my forehead and give my head a shake.

Where the hell did that come from?

Mia scowls at me and a chill runs through my body. “What?” she asks, clearly annoyed.

“Hey, you two.” I drop her gaze and look over at Hal. “Those are the cameras.” He points up the run to where the cameras have been strategically placed along the edge of the run. “This was supposed to be the two of you out for a leisurely ride after winning your spots on the team—within camera range. Not some pissing contest over who can outdo the other through the trees.”

Hal's pissed and I can’t say I blame him. We wasted a good amount of time and money with our stunt.

“Now, Ollie is going to take you back up that mountain and you're going to ride down with each other, smiling and having fun. Got it?”

I nod, but it seems Mia’s a harder sell.

“I can't act. That's why I snowboard,” Mia says, her voice holding onto some of her earlier annoyance.

“Well, if you'd like Gasoline to continue cutting that check, channel your junior high theater class and get your ass up that hill.” Hal's no shit attitude rings loud and clear.

Gasoline's been my sponsor since I was twelve. I’ve got my fingers crossed that they’re going to build me my very own halfpipe for practicing. Damn if I'm going to fuck that up.

I head to the snowmobile, but I end up face-to-face with Mia. Holding out my hand, I smile. “Ladies first.”

Her eyes might be hidden under her goggles again, but her tight lips let me see how easy it is to get under her skin.

She hops on the back, holding her board to her chest and lets Ollie take her back up the hill.

“Can we all act civilized?” Candice comes to stand at my side.

“Sure thing.” I wink.

“That smirk tells me no, but listen, get this promo right and then you'll be done with one another for awhile.”

“Did you know she was going to be here?” I ask, curious why she wouldn't have warned me.

She nods, grabbing her ChapStick out of her pocket and applying a layer to her lips. “Of course.” She puckers her lips and then stashes the tube back in her coat pocket. “Mia is my client.”

The cold air seeps into my slack-jawed mouth. “What? This is something that should’ve been discussed when I hired you.”

“No.” She shakes her head and the rumble of the snowmobile engine grows closer as Ollie makes his way back down the mountain. “She has nothing to do with you. You can both be my clients.”

“You know our past.” I push back all the thoughts trying to invade my brain—the regret, the shame and disappointment.

She nods. “I do.”

“You're just trying to grab two big paychecks because we're the best.”

A sly smile crosses her lips and she peeks up at me. “Are you admitting that Mia Salter is the best?”

I stare at her blankly unable to find words for her. No wonder Jagger suggested her, she's sharp.

Her small mittened hand pats my back. “Now, hop on that snowmobile, and do this right so you can earn both of us a paycheck.”

My mind swirls like snow tumbling down in an avalanche—Candice represents both of us? It shouldn’t be a problem since men and women's ad budgets don't usually mix together…if anything, sponsors pick one of each and target to each sex.

I hop on the snowmobile and without delay, Ollie flies up the hill, engine roaring.

Once it slows at the top, I jump off, securing myself to my board without much thought. It’s second nature by now.

Mia's waiting for me at the top of the hill, her gaze assessing.

What’s this? There's no disgusted look on her face. I doubt all those little girl flutters from the past have had a resurgence in her stomach. Not after what happened with her brother.

“I thought you hated me?” I ask, unable to resist taunting her.

Her eyes snap up to meet my gaze, her lips straightening.

“I do.” She positions her pink goggles over her eyes.

I lower my own. “It looks like you were objectifying me.” I slide my board back and forth over the top of the snow, anxious to get going.

“I can appreciate the view. It’s no different than you did earlier when you were checking out my ass.” Her tongue slides out of her mouth, licking her lips.

I've never so badly wondered what lips taste like.

Whoa. What the hell am I thinking?

I’m going to chalk that one up to the fact that I’ve been so busy training that getting laid has been on the back burner and right about now any female would look appetizing.

“You're seeing things. I don't check out my best friend’s sister.”

She glances over to Ollie who’s on the radio talking to someone at the bottom of the hill.

A hollow laugh leaves her mouth into the still cold air. “You're not his best friend anymore.”

Her words cut deep, but I can’t let her see how deep.

We lock gazes and teeter back and forth on our boards, itching to go.

“Let me rephrase it then…I don’t date my ex-best friend’s sister.”

“And I don't date immature assholes who only give a shit about themselves.” Her lips turn up into a fake smirk.

She breaks our connection, looking down to fix her glove—not that there seemed to be anything wrong with it to begin with. “Ollie!” she yells.

He holds his hand up in the air, indicating that it’ll be another minute.

“Getting to be a bit of a diva, are you? I mean you don't even have a medal yet.”

Her smirk vanishes and even I know that was hitting below the belt. But damn if Mia and all that she represents doesn't bring out the worst side of me.

“That's all going to change. Care to wager a little bet about who will pick up more gold at the Winter Classics?”

I laugh, shaking my head. I could easily win that bet.

“Are we talking sexual favors when I win?” I don’t know why I can’t stop myself from baiting her.

She glances behind me for a second and then grabs a hold of her earbud, readying to put it in her ear. I assume Ollie's on his way over.

“I wouldn't sleep with you even if you had a nine-inch dick,” she spits out.

I grin. “You've heard the rumors I take it? I’m disappointed to know they’re shortchanging me. Ten inches and girth doesn't disappoint.” I wink.

“UGH!” she screams.

I laugh.

This girl has always been too easy to rile up.

Ollie approaches, looking over to me from the corner of his eyes.

“You okay, Mia?” he asks.

“Let's just do this.” Again, she rocks her board side-to-side.

“They’re ready for you guys,” he says. We watch as he counts us down again.

Mia and I might not agree on anything, but we each move down the hill at a consistent pace suggesting that we might agree on one thing—we both want this to be over, so we can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.