Page 1 of Kiss Me

CHAPTER 1

Tania

“That’s it, Tania … Look this way,” the famed sports photographer encourages as he shifts his body toward the right.

I keep the smile plastered on my face as I pivot to face the camera.

“Yes, just like that,” he compliments.

Despite the ache in my cheeks from hours of smiling, I hold my expression while doing my best not to become blinded by the sun’s reflection off of the snow and mountains surrounding us.

I’m currently at one of the most exclusive ski and snowboarding resorts in the country. Only a select few are allowed to book this resort during the holiday season. Especially at the last minute, like I did.

Thankfully, my Olympic gold-medal status was enough to get the resort owners to rent my assistant and me the last suite available for the week before Christmas.

That and the added bonus of the resort getting featured as backdrop for this last-minute photoshoot.

“Just a few more,” the photographer comments. “Can you turn this way?” He moves to the left a couple of steps, obviously wanting me to turn my body to follow the direction.

“Make sure to get the logo on the pants,” Janine, a rep from the sports apparel brand sponsoring this photoshoot, reminds the photographer.

Janine turns to me. “Tania, can you hold the snowboard behind your head?”

Following instructions, I lift the new snowboard, which Janine’s company gifted me, over my head and place it on my shoulders to get the signature shot.

I know I’ve struck the perfect pose when the photographer gushes and Janine applauds.

“This will look brilliant inSports Demonstrated!” she comments, referring to the famed sports magazine.

“How about we try to get some shots of you riding down the slopes?”

I open my mouth, feeling excited for the first time in hours since this shoot began. However, my assistant quickly dashes those hopes.

“We can’t,” Liza intervenes. “Tania needs to rest her ankle. She’s already been on her feet long enough. We should wrap this up soon.”

My ankle.

Right.

I shift my body to take the weight off of my right ankle.

“I almost forgot.” The photographer frowns. “I was looking forward to seeing you in action, but your recovery takes priority with the X Games coming up next month.”

A glance over at Liza reveals she’s already in action, asking the few staff members from the magazine and sports brand to begin packing up. Not for the first time, I’m grateful for my reliable and stern when she needs to be assistant.

I make a mental note to double her Christmas bonus this year.

“We’ll need just a few more shots and then we can wrap it up,” the photographer says.

It sounds like music to my ears. Typically, I don’t mind photoshoots, but my whole reason for coming out to this exclusive resort in Northern California was to leave work behind for the next week, at least.

Somehow, though, this photoshoot landed on my schedule, and when my dad said the brand and photographer promised the shoot wouldn’t compromise my ankle injury, I felt like I had no choice but to agree.

About twenty minutes later, Liza hands me my crutch, tucking it under my right armpit as we watch both the photographer and his team pack up their equipment.

“Well, that went hell, huh?” she asks.

“We’ll see next month when the spread comes out,” I reply.

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