With all the well-wishers wanting to congratulate me, it took forever to make my way back to my room. Finally, I closed the door and leaned against it. My head was abuzz. I was floating, that sense of surrealism that comes when you win something, and you aren’t sure how. My roommate Jodi wasn’t here, and I allowed myself to relax for a moment and take it in.
I lay on my bed, staring out at the snowy mountain outside as the sky darkened, casting a luminescent glow over the snow. This was everything I dreamed of. I had won my first event on the female World Cup circuit in two years. I had worked for this for so long. Now, I needed to back it up and podium at the next event in Chamonix. I could relax and enjoy tonight, but tomorrow, I needed to get back out there and train.
Closing my eyes, I remembered the roar of the crowd as my name was called in first place, the thrill of knowing that I had earned this. It all felt so remote, like a dream. It had been so long since I had won a race.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my daydream.
“Hi Mum,” I answered, unable to keep the smile from my face as she started babbling about how they had watched and were so proud of me. Dad’s voice was slightly quieter. She was obviously on speaker and holding the phone.
“Thanks …. Yeah, it’s pretty exciting…. No, I’m fine, just tired…. There is a party tonight, then I am moving on to Chamonix. You know how it is. I don’t get to celebrate for long… I will. I will enjoy this moment. Thanks for calling, I need to shower before this event… You need to go to bed, too; it must be early morning there. Love you too. Hugs to Dad and Chris. Bye.”
As I dropped the phone on the bed beside me, the silence in the room closed in. Once more, I tried to meditate, slow my breathing, and center myself. The conversation with my parentsreverberated in my mind. They were my biggest supporters. No matter what time it was in Australia, usually in the middle of the night, they watched every race and called me afterward. It meant the world to me to know they still supported me, just like they did when I was a junior and accompanied me to all my races.
The door clicking closed yanked me from my trance, and I opened my eyes to see Jodi in the room beaming at me.
“I’m so happy for you!” she squealed, dropping her gear in the doorway. “You absolutely rocked it. You must be thrilled.”
“It is quite the buzz,” I admitted, sitting up as she squeezed the air from my lungs. “I don’t really know how to feel.”
“I get that,” she admitted, pulling back, but the smile hadn’t left her face and I felt her joy at my achievement. Most of the women’s team were close, one win was shared by all.
“Not that you asked, but my advice is to enjoy every second. You earned this and you deserve it.”
Jodi was one of the senior female members of the team and my best friend since I arrived in the US three years ago. At twenty-eight, she was the oldest, and while still competitive, wasn’t quite as fast as she was in her prime. Still, she was solid, and nearly always finished in the top ten, and desperately wanted to go out on top. Retire on her terms. While no one else knew, was that this was her last year. Jodi wanted to marry her long-term boyfriend Leo, a ski patroller in Colorado, and have kids before her body gave out. Like most of us, she had experienced the usual litany of injuries, blown ACLs, shoulder reconstructions, and concussions. The body of a ski racer was old before their time, and too many brilliant skiers had retired early because of injury. Leo was so patient, waiting for her to fly around the world and come home to him. She was one of the lucky ones, and she knew it.
“Do you want to shower first?” Jodi asked, picking up her jacket and hanging it on the rail with our race suits and ski clothes.
“No, you go ahead. I need to rest for a few minutes more before I face the crowd.”
“Everyone will want a piece of you, you know,” she teased. “You are the woman of the hour. We work so hard and sacrifice so much for so many years for a few minutes of success. Enjoy it.”
“Trying,” I admitted. “I am not good at being the center of attention.”
“Well, you will get a lot tonight, so enjoy the peace while you can. Do you mind if I shower?”
“As long as you leave me enough hot water to wash my hair,” I joked.
“Your hair always looks gorgeous,” she sighed. Jodi had short, dark hair, which stuck up in all directions when she took off her helmet. Hedgehog hair, she called it, and while I never agreed, it was fitting. Mine was long, thick, and blonde. My mane was part of me, and I couldn’t bring myself to cut it. Usually, I braided it when I skied. Many people who only saw me on the course had never seen me with it out, mid-back length and slightly curled. Being Australian, I was so fortunate to have spent most of my summers on the beach and winters in the snow, until I started racing competitively. Then my life became an endless winter, flying back and forth between the northern and southern hemispheres. While I missed the relaxed beach culture of my youth, sailing, and swimming, this was my life now. Most of the time, I loved it.
“Holy shit, you are so hot,”Owen murmured under his breath as he greeted me, kissing my cheek as people milled around us. He had a slight scent of whisky about him as his lips warmed my cheek. It was expected that we would greet people together as the two gold medalists, and I had no objections to being in his company.
He slipped his arm around my waist, and I felt his fingers lightly stroking my side through the silky fabric of my electric blue dress. It showed off my athletic but curvy figure, and I had deliberately chosen this dress as the plunging V neckline, lined with lace, enhanced my natural assets.Fuck Jerkwad Jeff,I had thought as I dressed. Let him see I can win despite my DD cup breasts. Putting them on full display and wearing the snowflake necklace my parents had given me for my eighteenth birthday, I watched his face flush crimson as I entered the room, my already long legs elongated with the mid-height silver heels I rarely had the opportunity to wear.
Someone thrust a glass of wine into my hand, and I accepted it, sipping slowly. As an athlete, I didn’t have a head for alcohol and rarely drank while training. In the northern hemisphere summer, when I returned to Australia to work as a ski instructor at my home mountain of Perisher, I relaxed a bit more with my diet. But right now, everything I did needed to be focused on my single goal—winning. The refills helped me relax as Owen expertly steered me around the room, and he engaged me in each conversation, allowing me to enjoy the event so much more than if I had attended with the women. Competitors and officials from all nations came over to congratulate us, and I sipped more frequently than I expected as I was talking so much. Owen wasan expert at this, knowing who everyone was, and they greeted him like an old friend. But he introduced me every time, and I felt included in this little gang, one I had never really been a part of. Between conversations, he whispered snippets into my ear about who each person was, their coach, and their skills. It helped me remember each person, but the single overwhelming impression that remained with me was his respect for everyone. Even to his ardent opponents, he was kind and welcoming. He was a genuine guy, and everyone liked him. He was down to earth, well-mannered, and not arrogant in the slightest.
As the night wore on, I wilted with the constant need to be social after a big day. Owen felt it and studied my face for a moment before making a decision. Silently, he steered me past a few girls talking in the hallway, and around a corner into a secluded window seat covered with burgundy velvet. Drawing the heavy drapes around us, he carefully pushed me onto the seat, and sat beside me, cupping my face in his hands.
“I have wanted to do this all night,” he murmured, and kissed me before pulling back and scanning my face to confirm I was consenting.So, he was a gentleman.
I reached my hand behind his sandy head and pulled him towards me. He needed no further encouragement. My heart leaped into my chest as his hands slowly caressed my back, accentuating each movement.
“God, you are so hot,” he murmured as his breath came faster, and I knew it was true. This man could have any woman he wanted, yet he was here with me. His accent made my heart leap as he purred in my ear.
“Me?” I whispered.
“You are a real woman, not a pretentious stick figure. You have no idea how sexy that is.”
Stop thinking!I berated myself as my mind whirred, and my heart jittered with the thrill of being touched.StandardsSophie. Don’t be his one-night stand girl. You aren’t that kind of woman!But as he kissed me long and deep, I was his. There was no doubt in my mind. I was conflicted, torn between the desire for him to throw me on his bed and take me, and the fear of being perceived as easy. My head battled with my heart. He was an amazing kisser, and I couldn’t get enough. As he caressed my breasts, my head rolled back, and his lips ran down my neck, taking his time, savoring me. All resolve I had vanished, and I just wanted him. Now.