Page 44 of Love Worth Gold
The lie tasted thin. Blaire had clocked her long before St. Moritz—the way Isaline laughed so easily, the way she bounced back from crashes like someone who genuinely loved being here, even when the sport treated her like a punching bag. She’d watched that joy from a distance, hungry for it and annoyed with herself for wanting anything that much.
“Then you showed up at my table in St. Moritz where I was innocently reading my book… and complicated everything,” she said with a quiet laugh.
Isaline’s mouth curved. “I’m very good at complicating things. Like a spider catching women in my web. How do you say in English… I am like a black widow spider. But I won’t kill you and eat you, I promise. Well, in a lesbian way, I hope to eat you like that.”
Blaire choked on a laugh, nearly spilling her hot chocolate.
“Remind me to send a memo to the press,” Isaline said. “Before Olympic gold medalist Blaire Hollis could enjoy her retirement, she was scandalously eaten by a Swiss black widow. Her body never recovered.”
They stood laughing for a moment with their shoulders pressed together. The cold nipped at their faces while the rings burned steadily below. Blaire felt the strangeness of it—handing over pieces of herself no one outside her team had ever seen. Instead of panicking, she felt a comfort settle easily in her chest.
If anyone had earned the right to see under the surface, it was the woman who she’d bumped off the podium in the Super G and still looked at her like this.
“I’m scared of whatuslooks like after this,” Blaire admitted quietly. “When we’re not in the same village, on the same hill, breathing the same schedule.”
Isaline shifted closer, her free hand finding Blaire’s. “Me too. We live in different countries. Different time zones. Very inconvenient for falling in love.”
Blaire huffed out a soft laugh. “Minor detail.”
“Yes, that is right. We throw ourselves down mountains at broken-bone speeds,” Isaline said, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I think we can survive a few airports and long flights to see if this works. We just navigate the terrain. Like always.”
Blaire looked down at their joined hands, then back at the view—the hill that had given her everything and the rings that marked the end. For the first time in years, the future didn’t feel like she was free-falling down a mountainside.
It felt like she was deliberately choosing the future for herself.
Blaire shifted her weight against the railing, letting the cold bite through her hoodie and jacket while snow began to drift down in soft, lazy spirals. The village noise had dulled further, leaving just the two of them and the glow of the rings below.
“So what do you want next?” Blaire asked, surprising herself with how much the answer mattered. “What is your four-year plan if medals aren’t the only thing?”
Isaline turned her head. “I want to prove that my medal wasn’t a fluke. That I’m not just my father’s daughter who got luckyonce.” She paused as her gloved hand tightened around her cup. “But I also don’t want to do it alone anymore. I’m tired of treating everything like a zero-sum game where caring about someone means I’m not serious enough about my racing.”
Blaire’s chest tightened. The opening was there—a perfect place to deflect with something clever and noncommittal. Instead, the honesty pushed out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“Watching your name lock onto that board felt as big as seeing my own.” The words came out shaky. “Part of me was hoping we’d end up there together, even if it meant you took gold and I had one of the two that followed. It didn’t matter which steps we occupied, as long as we were both up there. I’ve never let that thought enter my mind. It’s always been gold or nothing for me.”
Isaline’s smile turned soft, pleased in a way that made Blaire’s embarrassment worth carrying. “You wanted me on the podium with you, even if I took gold?”
“Yeah, sounds just as strange coming out of my competitive mouth.” Blaire’s free hand gripped Isaline’s tighter. “Turns out I’m capable of wanting more than one thing at a time. Who knew?”
“Character growth,” Isaline teased gently. “Very attractive.”
They stood like that for a long moment with their hands tangled and snow catching on their jackets. Blaire felt the shift happening—the clean pivot from rivals-with-benefits into a level of caring she couldn’t pretend was casual anymore. She could step back. Keep it light. Protect the exit. But this time, she chose not to.
The cold finally forced them to move. Blaire pushed off the railing, tugging Isaline with her. “Let’s get out of the cold. Come back to my room with me.”
There was no practiced smoothness in the request. Just the simple invitation that made Isaline’s breath catch audibly. There was no denying what they both wanted.
“Is this how you get women back to your room?” Isaline’s accent curled warm around the words. “Under the pretense of letting them see your gold?”
Blaire huffed a laugh, and warmth flooded her cheeks despite the cold. “Only the ones I’m trying to keep.”
Isaline’s smile turned brilliant. “Then lead the way, Goldilocks.”
At the entrance, Blaire flashed her accreditation at the security volunteer slouched behind the desk. He was half-asleep over a phone showing a soccer match. The kid barely glanced up as he waved her through with the muscle memory of someone who’d processed a thousand athlete faces that week.
Isaline hung back just enough to look casual with her hood pulled up against the cold and her lanyard tucked inside her jacket. When the volunteer’s eyes flicked toward her, Blaire reached back without thinking and caught her hand, tugging her forward like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“She’s with me.”