Sex is one more way for me to disconnect. Except with Ophelia, it doesn’t feel like disconnecting. It feels different. Not permanent or anything like that, because I’m so not going there, but … it feels good. Like I’m connected to something besides the total fuck-up that is my past. That is my life.

Reaching inside my jacket, I pull my phone out of one of the zippered pockets with the vague idea of texting her to see if she wants to catch dinner when she gets off work. But before I can do much more than swipe my finger across the screen, the thing starts to ring. I glance down at the number, hoping it’s her. It’s not, so I let it roll to voicemail.

The only problem is, my voicemail is full. Plus, when I flip over to messages, it says I’ve got one hundred and eighty-seven new ones—from other boarders, from three of my sponsors, and from a bunch of snowboarding sites and magazines.

For the first time, I plug back into what Ash is saying. “What the hell’s going on?” I demand. “My phone fucking exploded in the last six hours.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The video of you going down the mountain has fucking blown up.”

“You posted it already?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am, but I’m having a hard time keeping up. “Damn right I did. I cleaned up the beginning and then posted it on YouTube and the website yesterday afternoon. That’s all I did, man. Just put it up, linked to it a couple of places, and let it go. And people are going nuts for it. You should see the comments—a ton of the greats have watched it and left messages. Plus they’re spreading it around. No one can believe the tricks you shredded, not to mention the sheer balls it took to just go off the mountain the way you did.” He pumps a fist in the air. “You’re a fucking legend, man.”

I stare at him, barely able to comprehend what he’s saying. “I don’t want to be a legend.”

“Too late for that,” Luc says, coming up behind me and clapping me on the back. He’s just gotten off the lift and his phone is in his hand. “They’ve embedded that video into every major snowboarding site in the world. The pingbacks are coming in every few seconds.”

“Shit. Are you serious?”

He shoves his phone in my face, shows me the latest stats on the website we share—and they’re insane. Totally insane. Page hits, visitors, comments. And yeah, pingbacks. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of them, every hour.

What. The. Fuck.

“Is this really happening?” I ask. But before anyone can answer, my phone rings again, followed by a couple of beeps that mean I’ve gotten more text messages.

Shit. Who knew one little trip off a mountain could cause so much damn trouble? If I’d known, I would have smashed the damn GoPro to bits rather than let Ash have it.

“We need a plan, man.” Ash is all but rubbing his hands together with glee. “You need to call Mitch, figure out how you’re going to capitalize on this. I told you, going into the trials, this is going to be huge.”

“And I told you, I don’t give a shit about the trials.”

“We know, we know.” Cam punches me in the shoulder. “But let’s pretend just for a minute that you’re normal and you care about things like this, okay? You don’t have to be excited about it, but can you at least let us be excited about it for you? This is fucking awesome!”

It’s something. I’m not exactly sure awesome is the word I’d use to describe it. But it’s something.

My phone rings again, and I check the ID. It’s Mitch, the agent Ash, Luc, and I share. For what looks like the seventh or eighth time. “I think Mitch already knows.” I hold up my phone, shake it a little.

“Yes!” Ash punches the air. “I say we take the rest of the day off the slopes and start planning how we’re going to use this to get you more endorsements—and a shot at Olympic gold.”

I shake my head, start to argue with him about the fact that I want neither of those things. But it doesn’t matter. Ash is off and running, his vision for us—for me—even bigger than it’s ever been before. For now, I’ll just let him run, get the energy out. Then we can talk about what I want versus what he and the others want for me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Luc agrees, nearly as hyped up as Ash. “Powwow at Ash’s and my place. We’ll start by calling Mitch, see what he has to say, and then go from there.”

Yay. I’m so fucking excited I can barely contain myself. “I’m stopping by the lodge first. I want to see Ophelia.”

“Seriously?” Cam asks. “You’re still going on about her? I thought you’d be over it by now.”

“Over it? He’s got his fucking Burton on the line. Of course he’s not over it,” Luc tells her. “He’s got to bang her before the competition starts on Friday or he loses his soon-to-be-legendary snowboard.”

If I thought it would shut him the fuck up about the stupid bet, I’d give him the thing now, even if it is my favorite. I wasn’t trying to be a disrespectful asshole when I made the bet, but now that I’m with Ophelia—or at least kind of with her—it seems fucking horrible.

Of course, I could end everything by telling them I won the bet, but that seems even worse. Which means, at least for now, I’m stuck taking all the shit Luc decides to dish out. But as he heads through the huge front doors into the main lodge, I promise myself that payback is going to be a bitch.

It’s late in the day, so the coffee bar is crowded when we get there. Ophelia’s working behind the counter with three other people, and the line is still out of control.

“Maybe this could wait,” Ash says. “We’ve got stuff to do.”

“You can go on,” I tell him, not taking my eyes off the beautiful girl I’ve spent the last two nights with. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. We’re not letting you out of our sight.”

He weaves through the crowded room, snags us a table in the back corner. “I just texted Mitch, and he’s got a meeting for the next two hours anyway. We’ve got some time to kill, and we might as well do it here.” He settles into the booth and kicks his feet out like he owns the thing. “I’ll take a large Power O.”

“Me too,” chimes in Cam as she slides in opposite Ash.

“Me three,” adds Luc, settling in next to Cam.

I think about telling them to get their own damn drinks, but who am I kidding? Getting up to that counter is the only reason I’m here.

“Think he’ll do any better than last time?” I hear Luc ask as I walk away.

“I don’t know,” Cam says. “Ophelia seems tough, but he is Z.”

I put my hands behind my back, flip them all off, then keep walking as their laughter sounds behind me. It’s a long line and I prepare myself for the wait, but I’m only standing there a couple of minutes before my phone dings out another text.

I almost ignore it, considering that the ones I’ve gotten so far have been all about shit that doesn’t interest me. But I’ve got nothing else to do, so I figure I might as well look at it. Turns out it’s from Ophelia.

My break’s in ten. I’ll bring your drinks out then. Three Power O’s and a …?

Have you made up your mind yet?

I know she’s referring to the whole give-me-something-sweet debacle that went down the last time I was here, and I laugh out loud. My girl’s a clever one.

Large coffee, black. It turns out I much prefer strong and bitter to sweet.

I send the text, then stay where I am because it gives me a good view of her face. She makes a few more drinks before she pulls out her phone and checks the text. When she does, she turns around to face me and sticks her tongue out at me.

I can’t help but laugh, then fire off one last text.

Promises, promises. Don’t think I won’t hold you to that.

I’m heading back to the table when her last text comes in.

I’m looking forward to it.

I stumble, nearly run into some poor woman carrying a tray of drinks. Shit. I’m never clumsy, but a couple of days with Ophelia and I’m practically tripping over my own feet. This doesn’t bode well for my snowboarding future, but considering how fucking happy I feel right now, I’d say it was an even trade.

When I get back to the table, my idiot best friends all look at me like I’m crazy.

“What? You gave up already?” Luc asks. “It’s like you’re just giving me the snowboard.”

“Chill out. The drinks are coming.”

Cam looks annoyed. “Which of the other girls did you talk into making our order?”

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

That seems to placate Luc and Ash, though Cam still looks pissed as the guys go back to the website, continuing to check out the stats and trying to figure out if they need to change the home page around to get maximum exposure.

I spend the time barely listening—the web page has never really been of much interest to me—and glancing at the counter every ninety seconds or so, trying to see when Ophelia is coming. It seems forever before I see her walking toward us, a full tray of drinks balanced on one arm.

I can’t help grinning as I jump up to meet her halfway. “Hey, let me help with that.”

For a second she looks like she’s going to fight me for it, but then she lets go with a soft smile. “What do you say you give the drinks to your friends and then meet me around back? I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to be back on shift.”

“I can do a lot in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” She bites her lip, looks at me from under her lashes. And I nearly dump the whole damn tray on the ground.

Shit. I can barely function. Ophelia’s in front of me, her lush hips wiggling just a little extra, and I’m spellbound by this flirty, sexy side of her. Suddenly I can’t wait to find a little privacy and spend the next twenty minutes making her come.