Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Dean
I barely remember getting off the ice.
One moment we were standing at center rink with the crowd roaring around us, and the next we were heading for the exit tunnel while the applause followed us all the way to the gate.
My pulse was still racing. Every nerve in my body felt alive.
I couldn’t stop smiling, and judging by the expression on Luka’s face, neither could he.
The second we stepped behind the boards, Mila came straight for us.
“You were amazing.” Her voice shook and her eyes were suspiciously bright.
She wrapped Luka in a fierce hug before giving me the same treatment.
“Knowing what you were going to do and witnessing it were definitely not the same thing.” She shook her head, still smiling.
“The two of you have managed to turn an Olympic gala into an international incident.”
I grinned. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”
Mila laughed. “You would.”
A burst of applause rolled through the arena as the next introduction began. Nathan and Brooke appeared at the edge of the tunnel in full costume, both of them moments away from taking the ice themselves.
Brooke looked at us and immediately pointed an accusing finger. “How are we supposed to follow that?”
Nathan nodded in agreement. “We’ve spent days putting together our exhibition. Then you two go out there and decide to emotionally devastate an entire arena.”
I held my hands up. “That wasn’t the objective, I swear.”
“It may not have been the objective, but it was definitely the result.” An official appeared beside Brooke, motioning them toward the entrance. She groaned. “Fine. We’re going. But if nobody remembers our skate because they’re still talking about yours, I’m blaming both of you.”
I shrugged. “That’s fair.”
Nathan hugged Luka, then me. “Don’t leave. We have some serious partying to do tonight.”
“I’m not making any promises.”
He snorted. “You never do.”
A moment later they disappeared toward the ice while the announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.
The brief lull lasted all of five seconds before my team arrived.
Ethan reached us first, grabbed me in an exuberant hug, and nearly cracked a couple of my ribs.
“You two rock!”
Behind him, Mark Winton approached at a more dignified pace. He folded his arms, studied Luka and me for a few seconds, and then shook his head.
“I should have charged double.”
I laughed. “You loved every minute of it.”
“Except for the nights when I lost sleep.”
“You volunteered.” I glanced at Luka. “He did volunteer, right?”
Before Luka could reply, Mark guffawed. “Relax. Your boyfriend caught me on a good day.”
A week ago, none of this had existed. The program, the lifts, the transitions, the hours we’d stolen on empty practice ice… Mark had somehow managed to help us turn Luka’s reckless idea into something real.
His gaze moved from me to Luka. “It worked.”
Luka smiled. “It did. Thank you, Mark.”
“Am I allowed to offer my congratulations?” Helen Brooks had appeared next to Mark.
Luka stilled. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
She nodded. “That’s why I’m here. If I can steal a moment of your time? Both of you? Because I’m assuming Dean needs to hear this too.”
We followed her along the corridor, where she paused.
“Okay, this is not me wearing my US Figure Skating team hat, all right?”
Luka blinked. “Do you have other hats?”
She nodded, then handed him a card.
Luka took it and read aloud, “Helen Brooks, Director of Athlete Development, Broadmoor Skating Club.”
I caught my breath. Of course.
He frowned. “Where is this club?”
I answered for her. “Colorado Springs. It’s where I train.”
Helen nodded again. “It’s also where US Figure Skating headquarters are located.
Olympic athletes relocate there all the time.
” She gazed at Luka. “You’re an Olympic silver medalist, Luka.
You’re exactly the kind of athlete who qualifies for an elite-athlete visa.
You don’t have to answer me now, but I wanted you to know where we’re up to with your situation.
” Helen looked him in the eye. “I’m offering you a coaching and athlete-development position at the Broadmoor.
Ice time, training support, immigration assistance.
A pathway into coaching and choreography when you're ready. We already have legal representation lined up.”
“Where would I live?” Luka’s eyes were enormous.
“We’ll arrange temporary athlete housing, a club-arranged apartment, or a furnished rental for you.”
“You could always stay with me,” I blurted.
Luka swallowed. “That is a conversation for another time.”
“The point is, if you say yes, we can have you on a plane as soon as the Games are over. The paperwork has already been prepared.” Helen’s eyes were warm.
“Like I said, you don’t have to answer right this second.
I’m simply giving you all the available information.
” She straightened. “And right now I think you need a little breathing space.” She flashed me a smile. “Take care of this one?”
“I intend to.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I thought you might.” Then she turned and headed along the corridor.
Luka shuddered out a breath. “This was not part of my Olympic planning.”
From behind us came a loud squeal, and we both turned to see Donna envelop Mila in an enthusiastic hug. As we drew nearer, Donna’s voice rang out.
“Oh, sweetheart. You did great.”
Mila laughed. “I spent most of the program standing at the boards.”
“And you were wonderful at it.” Donna kissed her cheek, then pulled back to encompass the three of us in her stare. “I’m so proud of you.”
Then my phone buzzed. I pulled it from my pocket, took one look at the screen, and started laughing. “It’s my mom.”
Ethan snickered. “Is she crying yet?”
“Undoubtedly. She’s also yelling in capitals.” The message consisted of an alarming number of crying emojis followed by:
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
YOUR FATHER IS CRYING.
A second message arrived before I could finish reading the first.
YOUR FATHER SAYS HE IS NOT CRYING.
Another notification appeared almost immediately, this one from Dad.
Your mother is exaggerating.
There was a pause before the next message arrived.
You were extraordinary.
Luka glanced over, and I handed him the phone. He read the messages and smiled.
“Your father is definitely crying.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
Another notification appeared, but this time it was Claire. I opened the message and my throat seized.
“What is it?” Luka demanded.
I turned the screen toward him. Claire had sent a selfie from the audience. A Pride flag was wrapped around her shoulders, and her mascara was halfway down her face. The accompanying text read:
YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME.
A second message followed.
Actually, no. Never mind. Don’t you dare apologize. I’m proud of you.
Luka’s smile widened. “She looks nice.”
“That’s because she is. And one day you two will meet.” I typed back a quick reply and slipped my phone into my pocket.
The noise from the arena drifted through the tunnel as Nathan and Brooke’s music ended. Around us, people were talking, laughing, replaying moments from the performance.
Then a voice cut through the conversations.
“Davorin. Kadanek.”
Everyone around us seemed to freeze. One of the Velkaryan federation officials stood a short distance away. His expression was polite enough, but it didn’t take a genius to guess why he was there.
“Director Vasiliev would like a private word.”
I glanced at Luka. “I’ll come with you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
A week ago, I would have argued.
Tonight, something in his expression told me not to.
I searched his face for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”
His hand brushed mine before he stepped away. Mila let go of Donna’s hand and joined him, the pair of them following the official.
“He’s a big boy, Dean,” Ethan murmured beside me.
I stared after Luka. “You’re right. I guess.”
Ethan coughed. “Okay. While international diplomacy is happening, I’d like to remind everyone we’re getting pizza afterwards.”
There were whoops and whistles.
Mark looked resigned. “Why do I feel like I’ve lost control of this whole group?”
Ethan snorted. “What makes you think you ever had it?”
Mark shook his head. “Sure, rub it in, why don’t you? I’m gonna find my husband. At least I know he appreciates me.”
I caught his arm. “I appreciate you. We all do. So go find David, and then both of you join us for pizza.”
He smiled. “You got it.” Then he headed off.
I thought about how Luka had looked at me when he said he’d be fine.
What surprised me?
I believed him.
Luka
We stopped outside one of the smaller conference rooms. The official bade us wait while he went inside.
“More torture,” Mila groused. “They must attend classes in it.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Then the door opened, and we were invited inside.
Vasiliev was already there, seated at the table with another official I recognized from international events.
Neither looked pleased.
The dragon pin on Vasiliev’s lapel caught the light whenever he moved.
I seemed to have spent half my life sitting in rooms with men wearing that pin.
No one asked us to sit.
Vasiliev clasped his hands together. “We’ll be direct.”
I nodded, doing my best to stand tall. Mila stood beside me, her head held high.
“The situation has become complicated.” The words came out in a dry, gruff tone.
“It was an exhibition gala,” I interjected. Where that boldness came from, I had no idea.
“That was viewed by several hundred million people,” he fired back.
The second official opened a folder. “We’ve received inquiries from sponsors, government offices, cultural organizations—”
“We have defended you publicly,” Vasiliev interrupted.
Defended.
An interesting choice of word.
“We described the incident following the pairs event as emotional excitement.”
Not love. Not a relationship.
The president leaned back. “We would prefer not to revisit that discussion.”
I waited.
“We need your cooperation.”
I blinked. “What does that mean?”