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“I’m not sure about this,” Avery says, still moving cautiously with the skis strapped to her boots.
“Skiing really isn’t that hard,” I reassure her, keeping my pace slow beside her. “You’ll pick it up quickly.”
“No, not that.” She shakes her head, shooting me a concerned look. “You just got over being sick. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Of course,” I say, dismissing her concern. “You know firsthand just how good my stamina is these days,” I add, and she gives another giggle.
God, I could listen to her laugh forever. It’s only now that I’m realizing how little I know of the real Avery Carmichael. She’s been playing a role with me for so long that these flashes of her true self are a revelation, the teasing and lightness I’ve only ever glimpsed before.
“OK, old man,” she teases with a grin, picking up the pace. “Try to keep up!”
We set off along the road, moving faster than we did on our hike up. I keep a close eye on Avery, and she’s a little unsteady at first, but she’s a fast learner, and it’s not long before we’ve crested the ridge at the top of the incline. “All downhill from here,” I reassure her.
“Gee, that’s a comfort,” she quips back.
“You’re a natural,” I say, watching her. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”
Avery gives a sharp laugh. “Skiing? No, I wasn’t wintering in Aspen,” she retorts, sarcastic. “The closest I got was sledding upstate.”
I ski in silence beside her for a moment. “So, the story you told me, about your father…”
She glances over. “It was a lie,” she admits. “Well, kind of. He is dead,” she adds. “He passed years ago, in the line of duty.”
“He was a cop?”
She shakes her head. “A Barretti man.”
I put two and two together. The night that I first met her, over that high-stakes poker game with mob boss Nero Barretti. I thought at the time I was stealing her away from him. Taking my rival’s prize before he could enjoy her.
Now I know, she was pulling the strings, all along.
“You’re part of Barretti’s crew,” I say, and she nods.
“I’ve known him most of my life. I grew up in that world, and after my mom took off, well, I made myself useful. Running the legit organizations,” she explains, cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion. “Being the clean name on the liquor license.”
“That’s how you knew Miles.”
I regret saying his name immediately. Hell, I regret everything about that man. Not because I should have stopped him gambling his life away like that—it was his choice to make—but because losing him caused Avery such pain.
I brace myself for a bitter comment, but instead, Avery just nods. “Yes. We were friends.”
“Just friends?” I can’t stop myself asking.
“Just friends,” she confirms quietly. She looks straight ahead, skiing in silence for a moment over the powdered snow, then she adds. “I was in love with him, but… You were right. He didn’t love me back. Not enough, anyway. Not enough to count.”
I’m torn between guilt, and relief. Guilt, that Avery lost someone so close to her, and relief, that Miles was a damn fool who didn’t realize what was standing right in front of him.
How that man could have known Avery, even for a single day, and not worshipped the ground she walks on…
“I’m sorry.”
She stops skiing, looking over at me with a curious look on her face. “You’ve never said that before,” she says quietly. “Not about Miles.”
“Well, I am.” I take a heavy breath. I’m used to regret and guilt—those feelings have gnawed away inside of me ever since the night of the crash, making me numb to the sensation. But now, with Avery, I feel them burning like new again.
For her.
“He made his choices, but… I’m sorry they caused you pain. If I could go back in time now and stop him from placing those bets, I would,” I add honestly. “I’d turn him away from the game, and maybe then… Well, maybe everything would have been different for you.”
