“I keep hearing that.”
His brow wrinkled. “You’re not, I don’t know, clingy, like some people can be.”
“Who has time to be clingy? I have a job to do over here, just like you.” I started walking again, still holding his hand so he had to walk a bit faster to catch up.
“Is that it?” he asked.
I glanced at him; he was smiling. “Is what it?”
“Don’t you want to know how I feel?”
My heart rate quickened. “Okay.”
He snorted. “You are a strange one.”
In a smooth motion, I bent his arm behind him, like I did with Jake, only slow and gentle, until his body pressed against mine. Handy move, that.
“I’m what?” I asked sweetly.
“You are completely and totally normal, Ms. Rossi.”
I batted my eyelashes and let him go. “That’s what I thought.”
He took my shoulders—carefully. “And I like you, too. A lot.”
I shook my head. “What’s wrong with you? I just put you in an arm lock.”
His eyes glinted in the lamplight. “I know. Loved every second of it, too.”
He slid an arm around my back, while the other cupped my face. His eyes searched mine, and he kissed me. Our lips moved together, fitting perfectly. Snow fell on my face, but I barely felt it. My legs went liquid, and a fire lit in my chest. I crushed myself against him. Damn, he felt good.
When we broke apart, we grinned stupidly at each other.
“More of that, please.” His voice was low and rough.
I winced as my stomach growled. “Dinner first?”
He laughed and took my hand again. Only he stopped a few feet later to tug me behind a kiosk advertising snowmobile tours and heli-skiing. He snuck a look around the side.
“What?” I asked.
“Look.” He pointed to the window of a fancy restaurant we were about to pass. L’Atelier, the sign said.
Two men sat at a table. One was beefy and red-faced with silver-shot brown hair. The other was tall, thin, and Asian. All around them at other tables people laughed and talked. These two sat stiffly in their chairs with grim expressions. The Asian man was speaking.
I studied the beefy guy. “That’s Darya’s coach, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Connor said.
“Who’s the other one?”
“Mei and Jia-Li’s coach.”
“Are they friends?”
“Not that I know of. Darya’s coach is pretty sure he’s God’s gift to the snowboarding world. I haven’t met the other guy; I’ve just seen him.” He studied the pair. “Maybe they’re networking—”
“The night before their athletes compete against each other?” And try to take the top spot from Veena? Mei, Jia-Li, and Darya were ranked second, third, and fourth coming into the Games. Connor shot me a dark look of understanding.
Sliding around the kiosk again, I took a picture with my phone and sent it to Brown.
Darya’s coach getting cozy with the Chinese coach. Thoughts?
We watched them until Brown acknowledged receipt.
“Ready?” Connor looked as distracted as I felt. We turned one corner and then another, lost in thought.
“Where are we going?” I asked a few minutes later, after realizing I had no idea where we were.
He turned us toward a building that resembled a stone castle with arched doorways, thick wood doors, and windows crisscrossed by wood to form diamond shaped patterns. Two flags hung over the entrance. One was Swiss, the other German, I thought. We stopped by the door.
“Do you like German food?” Connor asked.
“I’ve never had it.”
“This place is supposed to be fantastic. Local ski patrol recommended it.” He looked pleased. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.” Veena had done a light cardio workout at the gym today, so I’d hit the free weights. I needed to refuel.
Tables full of diners were crammed into every space and people waited inside the door, but the host led us right to a candlelit table for two. Connor pulled out my chair.
“How’d you manage this?” I asked.
He winked. “Being on staff with the U.S. Team has its perks.”
I picked up the drink menu, suddenly feeling shy. Previous guys I’d dated, and there hadn’t been all that many, had romanced me at bar and grill type places, the kind with football on multiple big-screen TVs, or messy barbecue joints where we ate on paper plates and had corn on the cob stuck in our teeth afterward. This was way more sophisticated.
The other patrons were glamorous, wearing nice clothes and speaking in a handful of different languages. Sweat broke out under my arms as I took a sip of iceless water.
I didn’t belong. It wasn’t so clear when I was with Veena and her friends at VMA, or even the athletes at the Olympic Village, but here? The obviousness was painful.
“Nic? You okay?” Connor asked.
I pushed my silverware around. I didn’t even know how to set a proper table.
He put his hand on mine. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No, no. It’s a nice place.” I breathed deep and settled into my chair. Time to grow up, Nic.
“Want a drink?”
The drinking age in Switzerland was sixteen. Even Veena was legal, a fact she’d probably take advantage of as soon as her events ended.
“Sure, I’ll have a beer.” I scanned the list but didn’t recognize a single thing. No Coors or Bud Light in sight.
A waiter with a blond man-bun and a German accent took our order. I must have looked as panicked as I felt, because Connor chose for me.
“Hope that’s okay,” he asked.
My muscles unclenched. “Yes, thanks. If you happen to want to order food, too, I eat almost anything.”
As we waited for our drinks, we compared notes about the Olympics so far. He’d been in the arena for the opening ceremonies, scoring a ticket from a marketing guy who had an extra. He told me funny stories about messing with the stuck-up desk clerk at his hotel, and we laughed about the various athlete hookups we’d heard about. I didn’t gossip about her, but Ali and her Canadian were still going strong.
“How are the other halfpipe riders looking in their practice runs?” I asked, wondering again
