Page 98 of Just Let Go

“I should’ve been here yesterday. All day.”

“You wouldn’t even have been able to get in,” Grady said pointedly. “Ryan had to clear the whole shop—that includes people, too.”

“I would’ve heard the phone ringing.” Did she sound as hysterical as she felt?

“From upstairs?”

She should’ve sent the calls to her cell. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Quinn had never given it a second thought—never dreamed for a single moment that her application for the contest was anything but completely thorough. She’d worked for days putting it together. Her hand-drawn designs of this year’s Secret Garden event. Her portfolio of past work. Her details—name, address, age, phone numbers—how had she forgotten to include the business license and tax information?

“Call them tomorrow,” Grady said, still sounding uselessly hopeful.

“What’s the point?”

“Is it important to you?”

She glanced up at his quizzical face. “Of course it is.”

“Well...?”

“Well, what?”

He searched the air. “Well, don’t just throw in the towel.”

She watched him for a second. “Do you hear what you just said?”

His mouth tightened into a line, but his expression was blank.

“You said, ‘Don’t just throw in the towel.’”

“So?” he gave her an exasperated shrug.

She narrowed her gaze, fixing it on him. She was angry, but she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass her by. “So, I could say the same thing to you. About skiing. If you love it—if it really matters to you—why would you give up without a fight?”

“I’m not giving up.”

“You’re not training. You’re eating garbage food. You’re not working out. Do you really think everything is going to be handed to you for the rest of your life?”

He shook his head and turned around. “We’re not talking about me.”

She followed him as he walked back to the ladder where he was... Whatwashe doing over here? “You’re older now. Your body doesn’t work the way it used to. So what? Stop wallowing and start fighting. You might have to actually listen to your coaches instead of doing everything your own way for once.”

“You don’t know anything about that.”

She knew plenty. She was embarrassed to admit how much. She’d read everything she could find on Grady Benson, and the articles were always the same.Most talented skier we’ve seen in years. Doesn’t listen to instruction. Wants to do things his own way. Faster than everyone else. Natural talent. Reckless and rebellious.

It all left Quinn wondering—what happened when natural talent wasn’t enough? What happened when the demigod he was on the slopes suddenly discovered his own mortality?

“I know you haven’t said a single word about anything personal since you got here today. You wouldn’t even tell me what you were scared of.”

He started up the ladder. “I told you plenty. You just didn’t want to hear it.”

“That’s not even true.”

He stepped back down, meeting her gaze. “Then why’d you walk away? What areyouso scared of?”

“I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you think.” She steeled her jaw, refusing to back down.

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