7. Savannah
SEVEN
SAVANNAH
“I’m horny,” Max says from across the mat. We’re doing some stretches before we head out for the night.
“When are you not?” I ask before I look over at him, my eyes focusing right on his crotch to confirm that he does, in fact, have an erection in the middle of the warm-up room. “Max! What the hell?” I whisper-shout.
He shrugs innocently. “I don’t know. It’s been a while, and I’ve had my hands all over you today. It was hot.”
“You have your hands on me all day, every day.”
“I know, and it’s hot.”
“Max.”
“Come on, Sav. We haven’t fucked since like March. I’m dying here.”
I roll my eyes. He’s so dramatic sometimes. “There are plenty of other women you can call. Don’t you have a roster going by now?”
When we first started sleeping together, I made it clear that we would not be exclusive.
This wasn’t a relationship. I told him very explicitly that I was completely fine with him sleeping with other people because I would also be sleeping with other people.
I haven’t actually slept with anyone else, but I don’t want Max to know that and get his hopes up for anything between us.
I simply haven’t had the time to find someone.
I love Max, truly. But I’m not in love with him. Unfortunately, I think he might have feelings for me. He’s always been super flirty, which is just his personality, but sometimes, I think he wants more than what I’m willing to give him.
I don’t feel like I have the time or energy to give him or anyone a relationship. My sole focus is achieving my skating goals. That’s why it was easy for us to strike up our bargain of casual sex.
“I don’t want another woman. I want you. Tonight. In my bed. Or your bed. Whichever.”
“I’m too tired.” We’ve been practicing for hours every day, doing dance lessons, yoga, and weight training. It’s nothing I’m not used to, but we’re two days away from a rest day, and I’m barely hanging on.
“Savannah.” Shit, he’s whole-naming me. He always just calls me Sav.
I bend over to touch my toes. “What?”
“When are you going to realize that we’re endgame?”
Oh, god. Not this again. “Max… I thought—I thought we both agreed.”
His head tilts back like he’s thinking before he meets my eyes again. “I know. Yeah, we agreed to stay friends.”
“Should we stop sleeping together completely?” I ask, cautiously. I don’t want to start an argument. I’m too tired for that.
“No,” he says a little too quickly, making us both laugh. “No. I don’t want that.”
“If you’re starting to have stronger feelings, then maybe we should.”
“No, I’m fine, Savannah. Like I said, I’m horny and it’s always easy with you.
” I raise a brow at that, to which he clarifies, “Not that you’re easy!
Just that sex with you is easy because I’m not trying to impress you or figure you out.
I already know what you like, just like you know what I like. ”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Max. You’re my best friend.”
“You’re not hurting me. Maybe I’m hurting myself, but it’s not your fault.”
“So, we’re good?” I ask.
“We’re great. I mean, I’m still horny, so that sucks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe we can work something out on our rest day, but my body is so damn tired right now.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ve dropped you more times than I would’ve liked to this week.”
I laugh. “Yeah, that’s pretty rude of you, actually.”
“I’m an asshole.”
“Then I guess it’s only fair that your hand takes care of your blue balls tonight.”
He groans. “Goddamnit. Just hearing you say balls makes it even worse.”
I laugh. “Oh my god, you have a problem.” I stand from the mat. “I’m going home. See you tomorrow.”
“Yep. Bright, early, and miserable.”
He follows me out of the room, and we both head to the locker rooms. I grab my bag and start to leave. Max is a little in front of me, so I yell, “Enjoy your hand!”
He responds by flicking me off over his shoulder.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” I turn and see Logan heading toward the ice with his skates in his hands.
“Uh, probably not. You skating again? This is like the fourth time this week.”
“The fourth time? Have you been counting? Better be careful; it’s starting to seem like you might actually like me.”
I scoff. “Um, no. But just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean you’re not a great skater. People notice when one of the best skaters in the world is on the ice.”
“Again, be careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.” He smiles at me. I almost smile back, but then I remember who he is and what he did and all potential levity leaves my body.
“Not a compliment. Just a fact,” I tell him.
“Hmm, right.”
“Is your mom coming to skate with you again today?”
Logan’s mother seemed really nice when we met her the other day.
She mentioned she was a skater, so obviously I went home and looked her up on the internet.
Nothing came up under Natalia Sokolov. Reluctantly, I changed my search to Logan and hoped that no one ever tried to look at my internet history.
I found her name listed under the parent section on Logan’s page. They don’t share the same last name.
Turns out, not only is she a skater, but she was also a gold medalist at the Olympics. It must run in their blood.
“No, she’s at home today.” He pauses and then adds, “Do you want to take her spot?”
“Where?” I ask, confused.
“Skating with me.”
“No,” I say quickly. “Sure don’t.”
He nods slowly, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks… disappointed by my answer. Does he want me to skate with him? Does he care?
“Right. You should get home. Rest up. See you tomorrow.”
He turns and continues to the rink. I stand frozen, watching him lace up his skates. Then I watch him glide onto the ice.
It’s late, and there are only a few people left on the ice. Logan skates around them with ease. He looks at peace. It’s a different experience skating for fun versus skating for practice. Sometimes the ice becomes your enemy when you’re training, but Logan looks like he’s completely relaxed.
He also looks lonely.
Goddammit.
I stomp over to the benches and pull my skates out of my bag. I quickly lace up and meet him on the ice.
“What are you doing?” he asks when he sees me skate up.
“I can’t leave Logan Sokolov to skate alone.”
His smile widens, and my stomach does a traitorous little flip. “You absolutely can, but thanks for joining me.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
He chuckles, and I follow his movements. He’s skating elements of our free dance, so it’s easy to match. “Are you trying to prove you’re better at our choreography than we are?”
“Wow, I truly am the villain in your head, aren’t I?”
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth to stop myself from smiling before saying, “It’s possible.”
“Well, the answer is no, I’m not trying to be better than you. I really just like the routine and wanted to try it.”
I guess I’ll believe him… for now.
“Do you want to try the lift?” he asks.
I look over at him. We both know it’s dangerous to do lifts on the ice when you haven’t practiced them on the mats.
“We did the lifts on the mats the other day,” he adds. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, then we don’t have to. Just thought it’d be fun. For me, at least.” He chuckles softly after that last part.
“What if you drop me?”
“Max has dropped you a ton of times. More times than I would like, honestly. I know you’re not scared of falling.”
Yeah, I have the bruises on my ass to prove it.
For some stupid reason, my mouth opens and starts saying exactly what’s going through my mind right now. “What if you drop me on purpose and then I get hurt and can’t compete… again.”
He stops suddenly, and I follow a few beats after him.
“Savannah, first of all, if the two of you don’t compete, it looks bad on me.
I’m trying to build up my coaching career here, too, ok?
Secondly, I would never, ever hurt another skater on purpose.
That time with you was a complete freak accident.
And like I said, I didn’t even know about it until a few weeks ago when I met you. What can I do to get you to trust me?”
“Do you really care if I trust you?”
“Yeah, I really do.” Maybe I’m stupid or na?ve, but he looks like he’s telling the truth.
His dark eyebrows are furrowed in concern.
His cheeks are pink, likely from the cold of the ice, but his eyes look sad, and that’s what makes me give in.
As much as I tell myself that I don’t care about other people’s feelings, I do. And it’s frustrating.
“Alright, let’s try the lift. If you don’t drop me, then I’ll think about trusting you.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
He takes my hand in his. His hands are bigger than Max’s, something I noticed the other day when he was lifting me.
We get into the position we need to be in to start the lift process.
On the ice, it’s different. We’re not standing still, and then suddenly, I’m up in the air.
We’re skating, and he has to lift me while we’re moving.
I try to relax and pretend like Max is the one lifting me. Even though Max has dropped me… a lot, I’m comfortable with him. I’m putting my life into Logan’s hands right now, literally. For all I know, he could drop me on my head and call it an accident.
I take a deep breath and remind myself over and over again that he wouldn’t do that.
“Ready?” he asks, over the scrapes of our blades on the ice. My heart is pounding, but I nod.
Before I realize what’s happening, his hands are on my body. I’m twisted upside down, and miraculously, he doesn’t drop me on my head. I pull myself up, and he holds me while I move my body around his until I’m balancing on his knee before bringing my blades back down to the ice.
He doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls me back toward his body, stopping us completely in the middle of the rink.
“See? Told you I wouldn’t drop you.” His voice is deeper and lower than usual. Or maybe it just sounds like that because my heart is beating so fast in my chest.
I look up into his blue eyes. The sadness I saw earlier is gone. Now there’s something else there entirely. His eyes dip to my lips.
My throat suddenly goes dry. I swallow quickly and look away. “Yep.”
I skate backwards, and he lets me go.
“I gotta head out, but thanks for the extra practice,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me as I skate away from him. I practically trip off the ice and onto a bench to take my skates off. I don’t know what the fuck that was, but it was not something I wanted to be feeling with my coach. Logan Fucking Sokolov, no less.
I quickly change into shoes and book it out of there.
The apartment I share with my sister is only about a fifteen-minute drive from the rink, so I’m home before I can process what just happened.
Kelsey is in the kitchen cooking something that smells amazing when I walk in.
“Hey, sis,” she says.
“Hi.”
She sets her spatula down and turns to me. “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I look around. For what, I don’t know. Maybe to make sure we’re alone. “I, uh... Is this a no judgment zone?”
She laughs. “No, it’s my legal right as your little sister to judge you.”
“Fine, then I’m not telling you.”
She grabs my arm and pulls me back. “Come on, you know you can tell me anything.”
I sigh. “I don’t know. Something weird happened with my coach tonight.”
She gasps. “Did he touch you inappropriately? If he did, you need to tell someone right now.”
“No, no, no, it wasn’t like that. It’s just the way he… looked at me.”
“He looked at you,” she repeats slowly as if she’s trying to understand what I’m saying. Hell, I’m trying to understand what I’m saying.
“Yeah, he looked at me like he wanted me,” I whisper.
“I thought he hated you?”
“I’m the one who hates him, actually.”
“Oh, right, right. So… did this make you uncomfortable? Is that why you’re worried?”
“It didn’t make me uncomfortable, and that’s why I’m worried.”
“Oh,” she says with wide eyes. A slow smile spreads across her face. “So you’ve got a little crush on your coach?”
I put my hand up to stop her from going any further with that crazy theory. “No. Hell no.”
She shakes her head. “That’s definitely what it sounds like.”
“Well, that’s not it. You’re misinterpreting this completely.”
“Enlighten me then,” she says with a smirk. When I don’t say anything else, she nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You have a crush on your coach, and you’re mad about it because you’re supposed to hate him.”
“I do hate him,” I add quickly.
“Ok. If you say so. So, when he looked at you , did you want him to kiss you?”
“No!” She gives me a pointed look like she knows I’m lying. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. This is why I’m confused.”
“Are you even allowed to kiss your coach?” she asks.
“How should I know? It’s never been an issue before. I’m sure it’s frowned upon.”
“Yeah, like occasionally sleeping with your partner is frowned upon?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh god. Don’t get started on this again.”
She puts her hands up. “I’m just saying, it’s weird that the two of you are sleeping together.”
“Yes, I know your thoughts about that.” Kelsey loves Max. She does not love the fact that Max and I sleep together and aren’t in a relationship. She thinks one of us will end up hurt, and it’ll ruin everything. I know she’s probably right, but it’s frustrating how vocal she is about her opinion.
“You’re right,” she says. “That’s a topic for a different day. So, are you going to kiss your coach?”
“No! He probably didn’t even want to kiss me. We were skating and got caught up in the moment.”
She eyes me suspiciously, and I know she doesn’t believe me, but for the first time tonight, she throws me a bone and lets it go.
“If you say so. But if he “looks at you” anymore, you’d better tell me.”
“Yeah, don’t count on it,” I say as I start heading down the hall to my room.
“Come on! Looking is so hot!” She laughs.
“Shut up!” I close my door behind me. I’m probably overreacting. Maybe Logan was looking at me how he looks at all of his skating partners.
I should’ve taken Max up on his offer. Maybe I’m just horny, too.
At any rate, I absolutely cannot have a crush on my coach.