Chapter 1
Adonis
The Previous Summer
When his mother called to inform him that he needed to come to the Rink immediately to film his free skate program so that they could send it to U.S. Skating’s High Performance Development program, Adonis Costa was busy giving his friend Guy a blowjob.
He almost didn’t answer the call. He was kneeling, naked, between Guy’s bare legs while Guy lay back on his elbows on his bed. Guy let out a moan and then said, “Hey, your mom is calling you.”
Just what every guy wants to hear while he’s sucking dick.
Adonis paused, wiped his mouth, and looked up at Guy. “She can wait.”
Guy surely wanted Anamária Costa to wait as much as Adonis did. Adonis was very good at sucking dick. But:
“You have two missed calls from her already,” Guy said. He was twenty-four, three years older than Adonis, who was still in college. Like Adonis, he lived in healthy fear of Anamária Costa. “You should probably answer,” Guy said. “My dick will still be hard when you’re done.”
“Fine.” Adonis stood, paused for a moment to enjoy the view of the naked Guy, who was a former collegiate swimmer and still very fit, and grabbed his phone. “Hi, Mom.”
In one breath, Anamária told him the news and delivered her instructions. “Meet you there in ten,” she said.
Adonis blanched. He was at Guy’s apartment in Boston, thirty miles from Bellford’s campus, and his mother’s impatience. “I can be there in forty-five.”
“Where are you?”
“In the city with friends.” The only part of it that was a lie was the plurality of his friends. Guy raised an eyebrow from the bed. Adonis waved him off. They were friends. Friends who fucked. Nothing more, it was simple.
“That’ll do,” Anamária said. “Bring your skates.”
Adonis ended the call, tossed his phone away, and dove back onto his knees. Guy’s head fell back, and he gripped Adonis’s thick black hair as he released in Adonis’s mouth.
——
Bellford University was one of the top Ivy Leagues in the country. It was known for its medical and law schools, its production of several presidents, and its ice sports teams.
Multiple decades ago, a wealthy alumnus had married an elegant former figure skater, and the two of them became the benefactors of the Trask Ice Rink and the sponsors of Bellford’s figure skating and later hockey team.
The hockey team was Division I in the NCAA.
Because figure skating wasn’t offered as a varsity sport, it was part of an elite intercollegiate club.
Even without the varsity label, it was prestigious.
When it came time for Adonis to pick a college, the choice was obvious.
By the time he finished high school, he was already a Junior Olympian and a multi-medalist. His mother was his coach.
Bellford didn’t need a coach for their figure skating program.
Anamária, an alumna of the college and a former Olympic skater herself (Gold medalist, Women’s Singles, 1994, Lillehammer), had a few words with President Crawford.
Suddenly, Bellford needed a coach. Adonis was accepted on a full ride.
He started skating for Bellford, and his mother was still his coach.
It wasn’t wise to keep Anamária Costa waiting. She was known among the figure skating team as the Ice Queen, and the Rink was her castle. The team feared her, and Adonis feared her more.
She was in the stands when Adonis arrived at the Rink. Her workout clothes looked like couture. Everyone said that Adonis favored his mother, with their tan skin and wavy dark hair, though Adonis’s light brown skin was several shades darker than his mother’s, and his hair was truly black.
Anamária loved to tell people how she and Adonis had once been mistaken for brother and sister (Adonis was still sure the waiter who’d said it was just hoping for an extra tip).
Even though Adonis would never say that she could pass as his sister, Anamária did look relatively young for fifty-three.
They did look alike, too, though Adonis was Indian on his father’s side, and people loved to ask him where he was from originally.
They were never satisfied with “Connecticut” as his deadpan answer.
“You’re here, good,” she said. She gave him a once-over.
She set up a tripod with a camera. “Run your free skate program. HPD asked me to email it to them. TJ Greer—remember him?—broke his ankle after Collegiate Champs and can’t skate in the Cranberry Cup.
They want to send you instead, but they need confirmation that you’ve tightened up your free skate.
I assured them you have.” She pursed her lips. “I hope you have.”
“I have. Cranberry Cup is next week.”
“Yes, lucky you. Show me you’ve improved.”
Singles skating events were divided into two programs: the short program, which emphasized precision and technique, and the free skate, which allowed greater creativity and artistry. Adonis was an excellent technical skater, but technique didn’t always translate into artistry.
He lost points on his free skate at the Collegiate Champs, yet he still medaled.
They said he was too restrained. He had to let go and loosen up.
Fat chance, he wanted to tell them. His mother left him no choice but to figure it out.
If she had her way, and Anamária Costa always did, he would enter the Cranberry Cup and win the Cranberry Cup.
Then it would be a merry dance straight to the 2026 Milan Olympics.
Then all dreams would come true, and world peace would be achieved.
Loosen up indeed, Adonis thought, and got on the ice.