Chapter 20 Pike
Pike
Do my words sound slurred?” Skylar asks in the elevator.
“No?” I say.
“My brain-to-mouth thing isn’t working right. I feel like I have to force everything off my tongue.”
“Is your head worse?”
We rested this afternoon, but we’ve still done a lot. Luckily, tomorrow’s a nothing day. Brunch with Jax for me, and a spa visit for Skylar before we fly back.
“The altitude changes aren’t helping. But I’m also nervous. Are you sure I look okay?”
“‘Okay’?” I echo in disbelief. “You’re stunning.”
She still regards me doubtfully. I get it. I’m acting confident, but my heart’s knocking against my rib cage. We’re about to be featured in a national magazine for a relationship that isn’t real, and I’ll have to talk about the one thing I’m always avoiding.
“I’m having a hard time not staring at this…
this thing.” I indicate her soft white shirt that isn’t quite a shirt.
It’s got long sleeves and all, but it’s skintight and has a cutout off the right shoulder.
From there, it runs downward diagonally toward the smooth dip between her breasts, baring her left shoulder completely.
I want to press my lips to that shoulder so badly.
“It’s a bodysuit.” She turns to the right. “This is my better side.”
I have to pinch my leg right where it hurts over my bursa in order to force my attention away from how her hips pop in those high-waisted black pants. Her soft curls are straightened into light waves that fall halfway down her back. “All your sides are good.”
“You’re lying, but thanks.”
“Do I need to get on my knees?” I lean closer, brushing a finger over her bare shoulder. A faint blush spreads across her skin. “They don’t hurt that much today, sweetheart.”
Our eyes lock for one potent beat. A spark of confidence blooms in my chest. Her bright red lips part, and I wait, mere seconds that seem to expand into hours. I promised myself I’d take things slow, but Skylar might make a liar out of me.
I inch closer.
The elevator opens.
Her lips meet my cheek in a barely there kiss. “You’ve got this,” she says softly.
The only reason I’m able to leave the elevator is that she takes my hand.
I walk a little less steadily than usual, unable to get used to the handle on the elegant cane I’m using tonight.
Mom got it for me along with three others after I graduated from using a walker.
She was under the misguided assumption I’d care enough to “accessorize” with them.
The only cane I’ve ever used is the black ergo one I purchased for myself, unless you count the time I strutted around in front of a mirror in a moment of boredom and mild pharmaceutical influence.
I was not accessorizing, for the record. I was trying to figure out if I could still have swagger with a cane. The verdict is yes. Yes, I can.
This cane may be a nod to fashion over function, but it matches the outfit Skylar picked out for me: a casual dark navy suit—“jacket unbuttoned, please”—a slim brown belt, and a white dress shirt open at the collar.
“You look good, obviously,” she said earlier, “but I still wish you had to wear a tux tonight. I need to see this Magic Mike level of hotness I’ve heard so much about.”
Now I’ll have to find an excuse to wear a tux around her.
Blake’s already at the bar, his recorder next to his wineglass. After we grab a table, he dives right in, asking the basics. Where I work, what I’m up to now, and anything about Skylar we’ll reveal. She’s smart with her answers but grudgingly admits she’s a regional admissions counselor.
“How did you two meet?”
“A lot of things lined up.” I give the same cover story. “We eventually started talking in the support group, and one thing led to another.”
Blake pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve gotta say, that’s not your usual style.”
“Wasn’t looking to settle down before.” I beam at Skylar, meaning it.
Blake turns to her. “What’s Brandon Pike like off camera?”
Her hazel eyes meet mine, and my pulse spikes. We didn’t prepare for this question.
“He’s really sweet,” she says. “And…quiet, in a good way. He’s thoughtful and generous and validating. He’s kind even in situations when you’d expect him not to be. Those are qualities I’ve previously found rare in a man, if I’m honest.”
I’m a little stunned. People usually talk about me in relation to my body—what it can do in the pipe, how sexy it is, how much it can please a woman. I don’t remember the last time anyone said anything about my personality.
“One reason Pike and I get along so well is that we’ve both had our health change the course of our lives as adults, which nondisabled people can’t fully grasp.
We’re able to understand each other on a deeper level, and that makes everything else in our relationship easier.
It also doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous. ”
Blake chuckles. “I bet.”
“Yup. Just one broody look from him has me melting.”
“Broody, huh,” I say, making sure Blake sees me wink.
Under the table, Skylar hasn’t let go of my hand, and her knee bounces at my side. I put my leg out slowly, so she won’t startle, until it rests against hers. She releases some of her nerves at the connection.
“He’s such an attentive boyfriend,” she says. “Truly, I couldn’t ask for better.”
Blake scribbles a note. “And what’s your disability?”
Skylar eagerly talks about IIH, explaining its impact on her life, and the lack of treatment options.
“And what about you, Pike? Has your accident changed you?”
My stomach turns acidic at the question. But that’s what people will be most interested in. Am I a sob story, or am I inspirational? I don’t want to be either.
“I think pain changes everyone. For me, it was a quicker, sharper change than for those who develop chronic pain over time. I had to change my entire way of life the second I fell.” I see Skylar’s face soften at my words.
“No pro athlete can continue at the same level forever. My body just wore out sooner than planned. But recovery’s going well, so I can’t complain. ”
“More positive than I expected, I’ll admit. You don’t miss snowboarding?”
How is that even a question?
“I miss my crew. Being one with the mountain. The air and the adrenaline. Go big or go home, right? Well, I went big, and I also went home.” I laugh to lighten the mood, and thankfully, Blake joins in.
“But I’m lucky,” I add as I catch Skylar’s eye.
“I’ve got a great trainer, a low-key job with flexible hours, and an amazing girlfriend.
All in all, I’m excited to see where this new direction will take me. ”
Because hell if I have any idea where to go from here.
Skylar nods at me and picks up where I left off. “A lot of Pike’s new lifestyle is only possible because of his wealth.”
It’s also because Luis has an accessible home, but I let Skylar talk about financial barriers to access and treatment.
She discusses medical ableism and that it’s worse for people who are multiply marginalized.
I nod. Luis, who’s Mexican American and disabled, has explained how medical racism compounds ableism, and it’s a topic I still need to learn more about.
I love listening to Skylar talk. She’s intelligent and direct, and she challenges my thinking, the way Luis does. I’m proud of her for using this opportunity to spread awareness. If her hand weren’t trembling in mine, I’d never guess she was nervous.
“Let’s grab some pictures outside,” Blake says, closing his notebook but keeping the recorder on.
I sweep Skylar’s long waves to the side and drop a quick kiss to her delicious neck. Her breath hitches. Sweet floral notes from her perfume waft over me, making me want to lick and linger. “You did amazing,” I whisper. “Just a few more minutes, then we’ll be out of here, I promise.”
“Are you okay to walk?” Blake asks. “We could find a bench. Lose the cane?”
“I can stand for a few shots.” I want my mobility aid in the photos. Normalizing them is important, especially for younger people.
Outside, Blake tells us to talk amongst ourselves and pretend he’s not there. Snowflakes land in Skylar’s hair and on her cute, freckled nose. I slide my hands around her soft waist and draw her close so Blake won’t hear.
She drapes her arms around my neck. “You’re quite the tease today.”
“Oh?” I ask innocently, but I know exactly what I’m doing. “Do you want me to stop?”
“How about a kiss?” Blake calls.
“We don’t have to,” I reassure her.
“We’re doing what feels natural. And this,” she says, pushing up on her toes, “feels perfectly natural.”
Her lips meet mine with a confidence that leaves me breathless.
She kisses me more slowly than she did last night, but still just as passionately, like she’s savoring every moment.
I know I am. This kiss is deeper, more real, and somehow even better than before.
With each slide of my tongue against hers, my body tightens everywhere.
I know it’s not supposed to mean anything, but how can a fake kiss be this good?
I can’t even remember if I’ve had real kisses this good.
Right now, there’s only Skylar, the warmth of her mouth, and her arms around my neck.
When we separate, I hold her face in my hands and fight the urge to invite her back to my room. For the first time in my life, I’m considering a relationship.
Later, I think. When we’re back in Rochester. When I’ve had the chance to tell her how I feel.
I just want this night to be over.
To be alone with Skylar. To not have to put on a show anymore.
Throughout the awards dinner, she touches my leg, massages the nape of my neck, and sends me reassuring smiles.
She notices when I’m too overwhelmed for words and redirects the conversation, usually by asking Grace something.
Everyone’s eager to get to know Skylar better, and with all her allure the focus shifts easily from me to her.
I want to thank Skylar properly for everything she’s doing to help me get through this weekend. I hope the luxury spa package I got her is a good start, because my other ideas end with her moaning beneath me, and I’m not certain that’s what she wants yet.
I try to focus on the awards. They’re chosen by peers, so the ceremony is cozier and more meaningful. When it’s almost over, Jax jogs to the stage and claims the mic.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” he drawls, only to get drowned out by applause. “The last award is new, but we hope to continue it. I’m honored to present the Legacy Award, meant to recognize someone who has contributed immensely to the sport over their career.”
I clap along. It’s a good addition.
“This inaugural award goes to someone who pioneered countless moves and paved the way for the next generation of riders. We haven’t seen him around in a while, and it’s my immense pleasure to welcome him back now.
The Legacy Award goes to someone I have the honor of calling my best friend, the one and only, the inimitable… Brandon Pike!”
Thundering applause destroys my ears. I don’t have time to react before a slideshow of me starts playing behind Jax. It’s gut-wrenching, showing my best runs, snippets of interviews, and part of my speech after my first Olympic gold.
I watch myself in a daze. Morbidly, it reminds me of the Oscars remembrance reels of those who passed. It feels like death, like the me now is so separate from that me on the screen that I must be watching from the grave.
Just as quickly, it’s over, and Jax is beckoning me to the stage.
My table is on their feet hugging me. I’m hyperaware of everyone watching me limp to the stage and struggle up the steep stairs.
Fucking hostile architecture. Had I known, I’d have brought my comfortable cane, not this elegant one with its silver engraving and awkward chrome-plated bulb handle.
By the time I reach Jax, my hands are shaking as much as my legs. He pulls me in for a bear hug, and I take the Burton board off his hands. He realizes how awkward the award is at the same time I do; we’ve always given out boards and never thought twice about it.
“I guess I’m donating this,” I say to a round of nervous laughter.
Pretty sure I black out after that, but later, Skylar says I thanked my crew, my mom, and even her.
I keep hoping time will make the sting of my accident less pronounced. It hasn’t. Being here with everyone just makes the wound gape wider.