Chapter 12 #3
“It wasn’t by choice,” Jeremy continues.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my folks. They’re good people.
But it certainly wasn’t what I expected for myself in my mid-twenties.
” He pauses and takes another sip. “But after everything that happened and medical bills piled up and my endorsements all dropped me, I didn’t exactly have a lot of other options.
” He dips his head and looks away from Sergio.
“But you don’t really want to hear all this. ”
“Sure, I do,” Sergio says with complete sincerity that causes Jeremy to look back at him. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his brown eyes. “Don’t forget. I failed to keep tabs on you.”
“Well, the tabs on me change day to day, so it’s hard to keep up.”
“How so?”
“Sometimes I wake up fine. Sometimes I don’t. Some days I wake up feeling perfect for me and end up a mess by lunch.”
Sergio suppresses a light laugh as this is a wholly inappropriate time to chuckle, but in a strange way, due to his current circumstance, Sergio can relate.
Wisely, he says, “And sometimes you go on a nice string of days where everything goes just right. And others are an endless stream of disasters.”
“Pretty much.” Jeremy laughs and takes another sip of his tea. “That is, until one day, I’ll end up being nothing but a stream of disaster days. And that’s the part I hate.”
“They’re only disasters if you think of them that way. And who knows? That might not happen at all.”
“I'd like to say that’s the case. But most studies show that with males, this only goes one way—and fast.”
“Hmmm …” It’s almost a shame that Jeremy has no recollection of all these New Year’s Eves.
Because, from what Sergio can tell, Jeremy is caught in what would be considered a good day for him.
Hopefully, if he ever manages to break this loop, Sergio can help to extend this run into the days and weeks and months and even years out for him.
“But, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I can’t change anything about my situation. All I can do is go with the flow and take care of myself.”
“And if you could change it, would you?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“So you could continue to skate professionally?”
“So I could avoid ever having to have this type of conversation with anybody ever again.”
“Sorry.” Sergio winces. “I shouldn’t have pried.”
“You didn’t. You weren’t keeping tabs, remember?”
“Touché.”
“Besides, saying it all out loud now, I gotta say, I’m kind of glad you didn’t. This shit is depressing.” He tugs the corner of his eye again.
“I don’t know about that.” Sergio admires him as he takes a sip of his tea, enjoying the way the ginger slightly lights up the inside of his ears as he swallows.
He lets go of his mug with one of his hands and reaches across the small space between them to grab onto Jeremy’s hand, finally satisfying the craving he first felt when they left the restaurant.
“I think your story, as it stands right now, is kind of inspiring.”
To his relief, Jeremy doesn’t pull away. “How so?”
“Look at you,” he says, giving Jeremy’s hand a squeeze. “Sure, you’re not where you thought you would be, and your life took a major, unplanned left turn—”
“To put it lightly.”
“But you’re still involved in a world you love, coaching someone who is showing promise of being the next great skater. That’s rare. Not a lot of people can do what you can.”
“Says the world-renowned photographer,” Jeremy points out.
“Anyone with a camera can do what I do,” Sergio says. “I know for a fact that not everyone on a pair of skates can do what you do.”
“Is that so?” Jeremy asks, a conspiratorial smirk spreading across his lips. “You want to put your money where your mouth is?”
Sergio narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Jeremy puts his tea down on the coffee table, then rises to his feet and tugs Sergio up with him. “Come on. Let’s get you in a pair of skates.”
Sergio gulps. He’s never been on the ice even once. “What about Henry?” he asks in a feeble attempt to stop this train.
“He’s fine,” Jeremy assures. “He’ll be out for at least another hour.”
“All you need to do is hold my hands,” Jeremy instructs once he has Sergio up and standing in a pair of Holden’s skates on the ice. His cheeks are lifted, causing the corners of his eyes, sparkling more than the smooth ice, to crinkle.
Sergio, despite his earlier want to hold Jeremy’s hands, hesitates and keeps himself braced with his back against the rink's wall. “Oh no,” he says. “What if I knock you over? Rose will kill me.”
“You’re not going to knock me over and, if you do, it’ll be our little secret.” Jeremy glides forward to be even closer to Sergio. He extends his palms. “Now quit being a wimp and grab my hands.”
Sergio eyes him warily, but eventually gives in and grabs hold. After all his longing, he’d be damned stupid to turn down this opportunity for more physical contact with Jeremy.
“Good,” Jeremy says, giving Sergio’s hands a little squeeze as he begins to skate backward, tugging Sergio along with him.
As Jeremy moves, Sergio can feel the way he pulls at him in a rocking motion, steady and comforting.
“Now all you have to do is shift your weight with me from side to side. Don’t even worry about picking up your feet. ”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Jeremy says, continuing to sway side to side, setting the rhythm they use for gliding across the ice.
Sergio is sure Jeremy’s feet are doing more than simply shifting side to side as he instructed Sergio to do, but he’s not about to look.
He’s convinced that any second not spent staring at Jeremy’s lovely, smiling face will throw him off-kilter and land both of them on the hard ice below their blades.
“Nice and slow,” Jeremy encourages. “Get used to the way your feet feel on the ice. Feel the grip of the blades as they carve and find your balance.”
Sergio lets out a tentative laugh. “I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m balanced is because of you.”
“Nah, I could let go and you’d be fine.”
Sergio grips Jeremy’s hands tighter. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
Jeremy’s lips pull up into a playful grin with one eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other. “I can’t hold on to you forever, Sergio.”
He stares right into Jeremy’s eyes and swallows. “Bold of you to assume I ever want you to let go.”
Jeremy stops his motions, and slowly they come to a stop in the middle of the rink. His smile fades, and he bites his lip. “Is that so, Mr. Durand?”
Sergio, standing stock still, nods his head yes.
Whether it’s Jeremy gazing directly at him or his paralyzing fear of losing balance on the ice, right now is the most earnest Sergio has ever felt in his life.
His heart beats wildly in his chest as he gazes at Jeremy.
Pleading, hoping his little gamble today will be rewarded with a shared moment of exchanged affection in the shape of a kiss with the man he never should have let go of.
“And why is that?” Jeremy pulls at Sergio’s hands, drawing him in closer so they are a mere few inches away from standing chest to chest.
Careful not to lose his balance, Sergio releases one of Jeremy's hands. He brings his now free hand to Jeremy’s cheek and lets his thumb drag gently at the corner of Jeremy’s left eye.
“You’re so beautiful on the ice,” he says, as he slides his hand away from Jeremy’s cheek to cup the back of his head with his palm.
With his fingertips, he feels the softness of the hair on the nape of Jeremy’s neck. “You look … free.”
Jeremy tilts his head and looks at him. He lets out a low hum. “I guess I am.”
Daring to lean in, Sergio places the gentlest of kisses onto Jeremy’s lips and holds his breath waiting for Jeremy to respond. The moment Jeremy opens his mouth slightly and begins to kiss him back, he feels his head spin. If he gave into it, he would pass out in relief.
“Are you two kissing?” Henry’s voice echoes through the rink, causing them to quickly pull apart and for Sergio to lose his footing.
Slam! He lands on his back with a thud, and his legs fling his feet into the air.
“Henry!” Jeremy calls out, visibly trying not to laugh. He holds out a hand for Sergio to grab and helps him up. “You should see your Uncle Sergio on skates. He’s terrible.”