“Why not both at once?” Saskia says. “Find a quiet place on the mountain.”

“In the bubble lift, maybe?” I say.

Saskia smirks. “Are you speaking from experience?”

I laugh. “No! Your turn now. Which is better?”

I’m dying to hear what she’ll say. Men turn their heads wherever she goes, yet she shows no interest in any of them, apart from maybe Julien, whom I suspect she only puts up with for his snowboarding advice. I presume that like me, she prefers to focus on training.

“Yeah,” she says. “You’re right. I need both.”

“With Julien?” I press.

She laughs and looks away.

I’m about to ask Odette but the buzzer rings. And it’s bloody Julien.

I watch Saskia greet him—a cool kiss on either cheek.

Odette frowns. “It’s a girls’ night.”

“Oh, what does it matter?” Saskia says.

You’d think Julien and Odette would be friendly, with both of them being French, but Saskia’s the one who always talks to him. Odette doesn’t even kiss him tonight but merely nods at him instead.

Julien says something in French.

“We’re speaking English tonight,” Saskia says.

“You see my inverted seven twenty today?” he asks.

We listen to him for a bit. It would be interesting except his English is so broken, I struggle to follow. Saskia interrupts to ask Odette about an upcoming competition in Switzerland. Julien seems unconcerned with Saskia’s lack of interest. He can’t take his eyes off her. Like she’s his muse or something.

I turn to Odette. “I saw you land some huge nine hundreds today.”

Odette waves her fingers. “Not huge. I saw you grabbing your seven twenties.”

“I screwed up most of them.” We’re doing that thing women do. Putting ourselves down.

Saskia yawns. She doesn’t talk herself up like Julien does, yet she doesn’t put herself down either. Wouldn’t feel the need. She rubs her neck, easing it one way, then the other.

“You hurt it?” Julien jumps up to stand behind the sofa. He sweeps Saskia’s hair aside and starts working his fingers into the tops of her shoulders. The intent look on his face reminds me of my parents’ cat when he kneads someone’s lap.

I stifle my laughter and glance at Odette to see if she’s noticed. She’s watching them with a strange look in her eye. Until she sees me looking.

Her expression clears and I’m not sure if I imagined it.

For a moment I thought I saw hatred.

CHAPTER 21

PRESENT DAY

Dale’s grip tightens around my arm. Some guys couldn’t hit a girl—Brent, for example. Curtis probably reckons he could if he had to, but I’m not too sure. Looking into Dale’s cold, gray-green eyes, I believe he could.