A few racers pat me on the back or offer a fist bump as we start to clear out of the finish zone, all of them saying it’s good to have me back. A few catch my eye and nod their head, their version of saying they’re sorry for my loss, and I nod back, grateful that no one makes a bigger fuss.
Spotting my parents with Blake and the rest of our crew in my peripheral, I head in that direction, fighting a smile as they wave their arms like lunatics. I’m not used to having a cheering section, and while it’s kind of embarrassing, it’s also kind of nice.
“Ryder.” I swing my head around toward the sound of my name, going stiff when I see a reporter moving in my direction. I’ve managed to avoid them up to this point, but my day is over, so I can’t escape back to the top of the run.
I rest the tip of my board on the ground and give the guy a little up-nod, the bare minimum acknowledgement I can offer, and wait for him to approach.
“How did you feel out there?” The guy holds a microphone in front of my mouth.
“Not too bad.” I can tell he’s waiting for me to elaborate, but I’d rather keep this little interview as short as possible.
“How important was it to start your comeback on your home slope?”
Who said anything about a comeback?
“It wasn’t. It was convenient.” I press my lips together in a tight smile and give him a curt nod as I try to walk around him. He blocks my path.
“I’m sure it’s hard to race here at home without your brother, what would he think of your performance?”
My eyes narrow into slits as a wave of rage overcomes me. I straighten my spine, looking down on the little shit who dared to ask that question. His face blanches as I open my mouth, but before I can get any words out a small, gloved hand yanks the guy’s press credentials off his coat.
“You’re in a restricted area. Take your cameraman and leave.”
Frosty?
The reporter points to the laminated tag in Hayden’s hand. “That press pass says I’m not.”
“Since I just revoked it, I’d say you are.”
“You can’t do that,” he sputters.
“When you don’t respect the athletes or this town you forfeit the right to be here. Bringing up someone’s personal tragedy for a soundbite won’t be tolerated.” He crosses his arms over his chest, which inhis puffy coat makes him look imposing, despite the fact he’s shorter than both of us.
“It was a relevant question.”
“And it got a relevant response.” Hayden stands his ground, and even though I’m still kinda pissed at him, I can’t help feeling proud right about now. I know all too well you don’t mess with Frosty when he’s got his mind set on something, and right now it’s set on protecting me.Why would he do that?
“You’ll be hearing from my network,” the guy seethes.
“And I’ll be happy to explain to them why I authorized my employee to ask you to leave my resort.” Carter appears beside me, although I have to do a double-take cause the guy’s wearing jeans.Actual jeansinstead of a suit.I didn’t even know he owned any.
Carter pats me on the back as he moves to escort the reporter and his cameraman away from the finish zone, leaving me standing alone with Hayden.
He looks fucking adorable with his chocolatey hair peeking out from underneath an oversized beanie, his cheeks pink with cold. His eyes are wary as they track over me, though.
“You, um. You looked good out there.” His lip tries and fails to hold a smile.
“Thanks. I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Why?” He blinks up at me.
“I didn’t think you cared about seeing me race.” Before he confronted that reporter, I really believed that. Now, I don’t know what to think.
He wrings his gloved hands together. “I said I wasn’t sure how to do my job and travel to the races, not that I didn’t care about them.”
Digging through my memories for the conversation I tried to block out, I vaguely remember something like that. I wrote it off as an excuse though.Shit.
“I freaked out again, didn’t I?” My eyes fall shut with disgrace, but not before I see him nod his head. “Why didn’t you call me out on that?” I crack my eyelids, wary of the expression I’ll find on his face.
