Chapter 22 #3
Victor sat in the Leader’s chair, and as I passed him, he gave me a salute.
Then suddenly my team was there.
Noah tackled me first, grabbing me around the shoulders. “WHAT WAS THAT?”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t leave the rest of us a little dignity?”
Brooke pointed at me accusingly. “Four quads? In this economy?”
Ethan shoved through next and grabbed the back of my neck. “Dude.” That was all he managed before pulling me into a fierce hug.
Everything blurred after that, hands slapping my shoulders, voices overlapping. Ethan handed me my jacket, then tugged me into the empty chair, where I was instantly surrounded by my team, all crowding closer, hands touching my shoulders, my head, my back.
The arena announcer’s voice rolled through the building again, and the giant screen flickered overhead.
200.01
For one stunned heartbeat, I genuinely forgot how numbers worked.
Then it became real.
First place.
Olympic record.
Team USA gold.
The entire American section erupted around me.
Noah screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Nathan picked Brooke up while she shrieked in his ear. Ethan was grinning, his hands on his head as if he couldn’t process what he was seeing.
I kept staring at the score.
Gold.
We’d actually done it.
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket, and I dragged it out with shaking hands.
Dad.
I answered immediately. “Hey.”
“Dean William Foster.” His voice was rough with emotion and so fucking full of life that I almost wept to hear it. “What the hell was that?”
“You watched?” I croaked.
“Watched?” He snorted. “Half the damn cardiac ward watched. One of the nurses cried.”
Relief hit me so hard it was painful. He sounded okay. Tired, emotional, sure, but okay.
“You were unbelievable.” His voice dropped. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”
That undid me.
I pressed a hand hard against my eyes. “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too.”
The call ended shortly afterward because apparently multiple nurses were now threatening to confiscate his phone if he got too excited again.
I sat there for a second, trying to pull myself together.
Ethan leaned in. “Looks like you and the boyfriend are both gonna end up on the podium.”
I nearly choked. “Jesus Christ.”
“What?” He grinned. “It’s romantic. Very Olympic.”
I shoved him weakly while laughter burst out around us again, a mix of celebration and chaos.
“One point. We won gold by one freaking point.” Ethan’s face glowed. “Final scores: We got 69, Canada 68, and Velkarya, 60.”
They got the bronze.
I scanned the teams section. Luka’s gaze was locked on mine, and all I saw was pure, unguarded pride.
This victory felt tied to him.
And then we were all on the ice for the medal ceremony, three teams of whooping, beaming, emotionally exhausted athletes who couldn’t remain still, standing with coaches who were also beaming. The whole thing was a blur of lights and music and adrenaline.
I stood with the gold medal around my neck while cameras flashed endlessly and national flags climbed toward the ceiling overhead.
Across from me, Luka stood beside Mila beneath the Velkaran flag, bronze resting against his chest.
And when our eyes met again, everything else disappeared.
Then it was over, and we were heading off the ice, still buoyed by the crowd’s energy.
Noah leaned in as we headed through the tunnel. “Well, I think we all know how you’ll be celebrating tonight.”
Heat shot into my face. “Shut up.”
“Oh, he’s blushing,” Brooke announced in a tone of sheer delight.
Mark intervened before the situation could deteriorate further. “All of you behave yourselves.” His tone carried the impossible optimism of a man who’d forgotten he coached Olympians. “Press conference first thing tomorrow morning. You can celebrate tonight, but try not to destroy the Village.”
Noah looked offended. “You say that like it’s happened before.”
He snorted. “Hmm, let me think. That might be because it has.”
Noah coughed. “Okay, that’s fair.”
Laughter followed us down the corridor beneath the arena, athletes and coaches and officials all moving through the aftermath of competition.
But underneath the noise, underneath the awareness of the gold medal still hanging heavy around my neck, there was only one thought repeating steadily through my head now.
Luka was coming to my room tonight, and this time, neither of us intended to stop.
Then I grinned.
How many condoms would achieve their freedom?
The thought lasted all of three seconds before the truth hit me. If Luka knocked on my door tonight and announced that all he wanted was to crawl into bed beside me and sleep with his head on my chest while the world stayed outside for a few more hours?
That would be enough too. More than enough.
At some point I’d stopped counting down to the next time I saw him.
I’d started wondering what happened after that.
Then Noah yelled something across the corridor about celebratory tequila being “part of the Olympic experience,” and the moment shattered.
I laughed and followed the team toward the elevators, already hearing the knock on my door later that night.