I hang back, sensing Curtis won’t want me to see him like this. Anyway, Brent looks like he can manage.

Jacinta hurries over. “Crap, did you fall again?”

“I’m fine,” Curtis says through gritted teeth. “See you after training.”

Saskia watches from the top of the pipe, apparently unconcerned.

“Back in a bit,” Brent says, and the two of them walk off.

Ten minutes later, Brent reappears alone.

“Is he all right?” I ask.

“Popped his shoulder a couple of times last winter,” Brent says. “Thinks he felt it come out and go back in just now.”

Poor Curtis. I wonder how long he’ll have to sit out for.

Saskia rides past on her way to the tow. I glance at her, expecting her to ask about Curtis, but she heads straight by. Seen it all a million times before, I guess.

Brent and I head up the tow together. My goggles have misted up. The foam’s wet after so many falls. I search my pocket. Damn. “Have you got a goggle cloth?”

“Sure.” Brent hands me one with the Oakley logo.

He’s riding in his back-to-front baseball cap again. When we reach the top of the lift, he lowers his goggles over it. “I’ll show you a Crippler.”

“You don’t have to,” I say.

He frowns down the length of the half-pipe.

“Seriously,” I say. “I’ll look on YouTube.” I couldn’t cope with seeing him fall as well.

“I’m just trying to remember how to do them. It’s been a while.”

He speeds off down the side of the pipe and plunges in. My breath catches as he flips on his second hit. A few hours ago he was inside me, looking down at my face with more tenderness than I wanted to see. And now he’s upside down, twisting his body through a crazy diagonal, high above the ice.

Emotions flash through me. Pride. Envy. Guilt—he’s doing this for my benefit—and terror.

Mainly terror. If he doesn’t get his board around in time . . .

He gets his board around—just—and I breathe again.

Odette laughs softly as she straps in nearby. “Cripplers are scary.”

I didn’t realize she was watching me. “Hi, Odette.” I’m flushing now.

“So you are together with Brent. Yes?”

I hesitate. “It’s a casual thing.”

“He rides well. And can he beat you at arm wrestling?”

I manage a smile. “We’ve never actually tried. But yeah, I reckon he’d win.” I try to pull myself together. “Nice McTwist earlier, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

I should ask her if she’s tried a Crippler but I’m still breathing hard. I didn’t want to feel like this about anyone out here. Friends with benefits; that’s all Brent and I are supposed to be.