Page 74 of Just Let Go

“We’ve talked about that, Jay,” Carly said, her voice a warning.

“Yeah, but if Grady thinks I’m ready...” Jaden looked at Grady with those pleading eyes, as if waiting for his okay.

“Oh no.”

Grady followed Carly’s gaze toward the bottom of the hill until his eyes landed on a white blob—Quinn. She obviously had no idea how to even move forward on her skis.

“I can’t believe she’s standing upright,” Jaden said. “Should we go help her?”

Grady couldn’t help but smile. “Nah, let’s see what she does.”

They all watched for several seconds while Quinn, who’d somehow figured out how to hook her boots into her skis, struggled to navigate the flat terrain beneath them. At one point, she almost toppled over, but righted herself, only to be thrown off balance by a small child who zipped past her on the way to the ski lift.

Her arms circled in the air as she wobbled back and forth, finally landing in a heap in the snow. Grady could practically feel her anger, even from up here.

“We should go help her,” Jaden said.

“I don’t know,” Carly said. “This might be good for her.”

“Why don’t you go show your mom what we worked on, Jaden?” Grady offered. “I’ll help your aunt.”

Carly and Jaden started off toward a more advanced hill, and Grady watched Quinn for several more seconds, convinced she had no idea how to get up. Worse, not a single person had stopped to help her.

In order to reach her, he’d have to ski down the hill to the much flatter stretch of land that led to the bunny hills. He wouldn’t say so, but every hill there felt like a bunny hill to him. Still, even coasting down Avalanche Mountain, which he could do in his sleep, brought back an unfamiliar fear—that his skiing career was over.

He’d never worried about that before, but then, when you had sports commentators and fans doing nothing but singing your praises, it was difficult to ever imagine a day when you wouldn’t be on top. Now, though, he was searching for something—anything—to rely on. Something that would give him the strength to believe he still had what it would take to win.

But as deep as he dug, he came up empty.

And for the first time in his life, that scared him.

“There will come a day when you will realize that everything isn’t just handed to you.... And on that day, you call me. Because you’re going to need someone to work through it with.”Benji’s words were back, flashing through his mind like a neon sign. But what was he going to say? He’d sound so ungrateful whining about his career being over to a man who would never walk again.

He watched Quinn struggle for a few more seconds, then started down and around the small incline until he reached her. Standing at her side, he cast a long shadow across her, and she scowled up at him. At least he thought she was scowling—it was hard to tell behind the goggles, which were too big and looked borderline ridiculous on her.

“Need some help?”

“I’m fine,” she snarled.

“Right. You’ve obviously got this under control.”

“If that kid would’ve watched where he was going, I wouldn’t have fallen down,” she said.

He dropped his skis. “Oh, I think you probably would’ve fallen down eventually.”

She tugged at the ski on her right foot. “It’s stuck.”

He knelt down next to her and unhooked the ski, popping it off the boot in one quick motion. She was clearly not amused.

“Ready for your lesson?” He stood and reached a hand out in her direction to help her up.

She looked at it, as if she wasn’t sure what the ramifications of accepting his help were.

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

“I think maybe I should just call it a day. They’re probably finished with my floors. I should get back and get the shop set up.”

“They’re not finished with your floors.”

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