Cate
Taylor Swift pumps through my ear buds as I up the intensity on the elliptical trainer, sweat dripping down my temples and between my breasts. Deb and Scott want me to take it easy on my ankle, so no treadmill and no jumping for the next three days. Which is fine, because today is an off-ice training day, anyway. It’s a day where we workout, practice lifts, and work on the more complicated bits of choreography. It’s not usually my favorite, but…I glance over to where Alex is currently doing squats with a massive barbell across his shoulders and gee, I don’t seem to mind so much.
He’s wearing a loose-fitting black tank, which gapes when he moves, giving glimpses of his carved physique, and a pair of dark gray track pants that pull tight around his ass every time he lowers into the squat.
His ass is delicious. Round and hard. I want to bite it. I want to sink my nails into it.
This crush, the one I vowed to ignore, and then get over, is running rampant. I feel powerless to control it. Especially because I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and the way he looked after me. The way he touched me so gently.
I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at my mouth like he was thinking about kissing me.
He sets the barbell back on its rack and looks over at me as he swipes a towel over his forehead and across his neck. My rhythm falters on the elliptical and I grab for the handlebars to steady myself. We haven’t had the chance to talk yet today. I was already on the elliptical when he came in and started warming up and lifting weights. He gave me a friendly wave, but that was it.
I finish my thirty on the elliptical, my ankle only protesting slightly. I dismount carefully, grabbing my own towel and wiping off before heading over to my bag, excitement bubbling out of me. I stash my phone and my ear buds and then pull out the small gift bag and practically bounce over to Alex. It’s probably just my imagination or a trick of the overhead fluorescents making it look like his eyes light up when he sees me coming.
“I got you a present,” I say, holding the bag out towards him.
His eyebrows crawl up his forehead, and he shoves a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “You did?”
I nod, grinning like a complete idiot. “Yeah. It’s just something small. But I saw it and it made me think of you.”
His full lips pull up into a smile as he takes the bag, our fingers brushing and making my entire hand tingle.
My heart pounds in my chest as he opens it and then pulls out the twin green sticks.
“They’re lightsaber chopsticks,” I say in a rush, a little breathless.
He finds the buttons on the underside of each stick and turns them on, making them glow a vibrant green.
“A must have for any sushi-loving Star Wars fan,” I say, hoping he likes it.
He stares at the chopsticks for a moment before a huge smile breaks out across his face. “You got me a gift?”
My face feels like it’s on fire. This is me, trying to flirt and be cool. “Yeah. It’s just something small and silly that I saw on Amazon, and it made me think of you.”
“This is my favorite thing anyone’s ever gotten me,” he says, twirling one between his strong fingers.
“Yeah?” I ask, heart soaring in my chest, stomach full of butterflies.
“Definitely. You know what this means, though.”
I shake my head. “What?”
He points one of the chopsticks at me. “I need to treat you to sushi. Obviously.” He steps closer. “To try out the chopsticks, and to say thank you.”
“Like a date?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the tremble out of my voice. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Deb and Scott step into the gym. Scott’s eyes zero in on us, standing close, and they narrow the tiniest bit.
I swallow and take a step back, my heart a jumbled mess, my stomach a pretzel.
I’ve had crushes before, but this, whatever this is with Alex, it feels like more than a crush. I might be inexperienced, but even I know enough to know that the chemistry between us, the magnetic pull…it’s more.
It’s crazy and it’s fast but…I have feelings for Alex. Pants feelings, and brain feelings, and heart feelings. The trifecta. He’s hot and he’s sweet and I like being with him and we have the shared passion of our sport as this common language…And when he looks at me with those gorgeous brown eyes and tells me I’m a good girl, I think I might combust.
We grab some water and then start working through some lifts with Deb and Scott’s help, adjusting my positioning, fine tuning Alex’s grip, working through different types of dismounts. With the points system in figure skating, every small part of what we do is scrutinized and we need to add difficulty—and points—wherever we can. A more difficult dismount means more points, and when the difference between first and fifth is as little as two points out of nearly two hundred, every little bit counts.
We take a break for lunch, where I can’t help but notice that Scott takes up all of Alex’s attention while I eat and chat with Deb and a few other skaters who are training on the ice today.
After lunch, we move to a different room, one set up just like a dance studio, in order to work with a dance instructor in preparation for our long program. It’s a tango-inspired number to music from Moulin Rouge, so the plan is to actually learn the tango to make the program as authentic as possible.
And so that’s what we spend the afternoon doing. We work on the basic holds, the steps, the dips and turns. I struggle more than Alex does, mostly because it’s freaking hard to concentrate with his hands on me, his body flush against mine, his eyes boring into me as we move in time to the music.
“I think this is excellent progress,” says the dance instructor, a friendly woman in her forties named Nicole. “I think now you should work on it on your own, experiment and play, and get comfortable with the style of movement. That balance of rigidity and passion twined together.” She twists her fingers together in a visual demonstration.
Then she leaves the two of us alone together in the dance studio, sweaty, breathing hard.
I move to the corner to take a sip of my water, and Alex retreats to the stereo.
“Run it again?” he asks, and when I turn, his eyes are locked on me, his face a mask of intensity.
“Yeah, sure.” I nod, hands on my hips.
“Unless you need a break? How’s your ankle?” He takes a few steps in my direction, and I feel all melty inside.
“It’s okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He lifts his hand and brushes a strand of sweaty hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. I feel like a little kitten who wants to rub into his touch. “As long as you swear you’re good.”
“I swear.”
He nods, and we move into the center of the studio and take our position, standing side by side with his hand on the back of my neck. He starts the music with the remote in his pocket, and I dive into his arms at the first abrupt sound of the violins. He catches me easily and then we’re dancing, kicking and marching and twisting toward each other.
He is a phenomenal dancer. He leads naturally, easily, moving my body like it’s nothing but water flowing around rocks in a river. As though our bodies were made to move together.
The music swells in intensity as we move toward the end of the short routine until we reach the big finish, where Alex spins me in his arms and then dips me low, his face mere inches from mine.
The song ends, and the room is silent save for our sawing breaths and the rush of blood in my ears. Alex’s fingers curl against my back, sending heat radiating outward from his touch, but otherwise, he doesn’t move, his eyes flicking back and forth between my eyes and my mouth.
“Cate,” he says, his voice a raspy whisper. His chest is heaving against mine, and I wonder if he can feel my heart going wild against my ribs. His gaze turns heavy-lidded as it drops to my mouth and stays there.
“Yes, Alex,” I whisper. Whatever he’s asking right now, the answer is yes.
He lets out an anguished groan and then his lips are on mine.
My first kiss.
And it’s a million times better than anything I could’ve imagined. It’s more thrilling than winning a gold medal, more exhilarating than when he launches me in the air.
Alex’s lips are warm and firm, his kiss gentle, almost tentative. I loop my arms around his neck, and he wraps his arms around me, lifting me out of the dip and against him, my feet dangling above the floor. Slowly, he slides me down his body without breaking the kiss, his lips working against mine in a slow, hot rhythm that has me feeling like I’m dissolving.
He pulls away with a groan, his face tight with tension.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“For?” I ask, raising my hand and touching the tips of my fingers to my tingling lips.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He shoves a hand through his hair, looking absolutely tormented.
“Yes, you should’ve. And you should do it again.” I arch up onto my toes and press my lips to his, taking what I want. He moans and instantly his hands are on my hips, pulling me against him. This time, his tongue slides into my mouth and I gasp against him, the sensation hot and wet and everything I never knew I needed. I kiss him back with everything I have, which probably isn’t much given my lack of experience, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Especially not when his hands slide down to my ass, cupping me and holding me tight against him. I can feel the hot, hard press of him against my belly, and it turns my insides molten. I might be a virgin, but I’m not some naive innocent who doesn’t understand basic human anatomy.
He’s so hard. For me. Because of this kiss.
It’s heady and thrilling and I only want more.
He licks into my mouth and I open wider for him, my tongue sliding against his. He sucks on my lower lip and slides his hands up my sides and cups my face, holding me in place while he kisses the absolute daylights out of me. It’s slow and unhurried, as though I’m the most delicious dessert that he wants to savor.
I could kiss this man forever.
“Alex,” I moan against his mouth, my hands fisted in his tank top. He makes the hottest growling sound I’ve ever heard and suddenly my back is against the wall, my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and the kiss turns fierce and needy. I’m on the best kind of roller coaster—my stomach keeps flipping over on itself, my heart is racing, my skin is tingling.
And in this moment, I’m happy. I’m so freaking happy that Alex is kissing me like he owns me. It’s like golden light is radiating through my chest.
His thumb glides along my jaw as he tastes me, over and over. I have no idea how long we’ve been kissing when he pulls away. Two minutes? My lips feel swollen and tingly, and I let out a little giggle.
He presses his forehead to mine, his eyes closed. “Wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you,” he says, his voice coated in gravel.
“You have?” I’m still clutching his tank top, not ready to let go of this moment.
“It’s taking everything in me not to kiss you again right now. And I really shouldn’t. We shouldn’t do this.”
“Oh.” I feel like a deflated balloon, my heart shrinking and flapping around in my chest.
“No,” he says, slipping a hand under my chin and bringing my gaze to his. “Don’t ever think that I don’t want you. That seeing you and skating with you isn’t the best part of my day. That that wasn’t the best kiss of my fucking life.” He traces his thumb over my cheek. “But this…us…this is a new partnership, one that has a lot of potential and if we give in to this and you decide you don’t want…” He swallows thickly and shakes his head. “And I’m too old for you, even if we didn’t have the complication of being partners.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I get that. I do. Believe me, I’ve been thinking the same thoughts about the partnership, over and over again. But, I don’t care that you’re older than me. In fact…” I bite my lip. “I kinda like it.”
His eyes darken. “You do?”
“I’ve had the biggest crush on you,” I admit in a shy whisper. “Since before we met. For years.”
“Fuck,” he groans, and I can tell he’s about to kiss me again when approaching footsteps echo down the hall and we spring apart.
He mouths the words I’m sorry just before the door opens and the moment ends.