Page 32 of Love Worth Gold
Isaline’s reply came fast.See you in five minutes.
The cold bit immediately when Blaire stepped outside. She pulled her team jacket tighter and walked toward the midpoint between their buildings. The sound of her boots crunching on packed snow was the only thing that stopped the thoughts in her mind from taking over.
Isaline appeared from the opposite direction, breath clouding in the lamplight.
They fell into step without deep discussion, taking a path that curved away from the main plaza toward the quieter edges of the village. For a while, they kept the conversation surface-level: snow reports, shuttle logistics, a comment about how the Italian team had somehow claimed the best dining hall tables.
Beneath the small talk sat everything they weren’t saying. Fourth place and gold. St. Moritz. Every charged glance since.
“You skied well yesterday,” Isaline said finally.
Blaire kept her eyes forward. “So did you.”
“Clearly not well enough.”
The honesty landed like a boulder between them. Blaire’s voice snagged on the words. “Fourth at the Olympics isn’t…”
“Don’t.” Isaline’s voice stayed even, but the edge underneath cut clean. “I don’t need you to make it okay, Blaire.”
They walked another dozen steps in silence. The path narrowed near a darkened training room that Blaire knew stayed empty after hours. They slipped inside and stood in one of the small stretching rooms.
“I texted you because I wanted to see you. Not because I need a pep talk,” Isaline said quietly.
Blaire stepped closer and Isaline turned to face her. They were close enough now that the space between them felt like a roaring fire.
“Then why did you want to see me?” Blaire asked.
Isaline’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Because apparently I make terrible decisions when it comes to you.”
The admission sat between them. Blaire felt her control—the careful distance she’d maintained through breakfast and hallways and forced neutrality—fracture into a thousand pieces.
“That makes two of us.”
Isaline stepped closer. Just one step, but it erased the last buffer of safety.
“You’ve been avoiding me since St. Moritz,” Isaline whispered. “Then you texted me after I lost a medal. Walk with me in the dark. Look at me like…” She broke off and looked away.
“Like what?”
“Like you want something you won’t let yourself have.”
Blaire’s breath caught in her throat. She should walk away. Nearly every thought in her head screamed,you should go back to your room and lock this down before it costs you both more than it already has.
But there was that one lone, very powerful and insistent thought that screamed louder than all the rest. When that thought won her body over, she closed the remaining inches.
Their mouths met hard and hungry, months of restraint shattering in one rush. Blaire’s hands found Isaline’s waist andpulled her closer as they stumbled backward until Isaline’s shoulders hit the wall of the training room. The cold brick pressed through layers of fabric, but neither of them pulled away.
Isaline’s fingers tangled in Blaire’s hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp. The sound seemed to flip a switch. Blaire’s hands slid under Isaline’s jacket, finding warm skin beneath her shirt, and Isaline arched into the touch with a soft noise that went straight through her.
“We can’t—” Blaire started, even as her mouth traced down Isaline’s neck.
“I know.” Isaline’s voice was breathless. Her hands found the zipper of Blaire’s jacket and dragged it down. “We shouldn’t—”
“Definitely not.”
But neither of them stopped.
Blaire kissed her again, deeper this time, and Isaline met her with equal intensity. Hands roamed over fabric and skin, finding zippers and the edges of warmth. Blaire let herself drown in the taste of the Swiss star, the small sounds she made, and the way her body fit perfectly against hers like they’d been designed for this just as much as a gold medal.