Kiss and Cry

“None taken!” Theodore called back.

“I want to do my best,” I said.

In unison, Sam and Theodore groaned, my brother grumbling, “We’re not the media. Be real.” He looked away from the camera and said, “Be there in a sec.”

Judging by his dreamy expression, he was speaking to Etienne. I said goodbye and chewed over his words. Be real.

I was real. Yes, it was a stock statement from skaters and other athletes, but aside from obviously wanting to win, I truly did want to do my best. I couldn’t control the judges—I tamped down a swell of irritation at Theodore for his inflated artistic scores—but doing my best was wholly in my power. And if I did my best, obviously the odds of winning were greatly increased.

The pairs skaters were finishing, and my Canadian teammates passed by. At least Anton and Hannah weren’t at this event, though I’d see them soon enough at Nationals in January. I pushed that thought away, nodding to Rebecca and Brent, who were sweaty and grinning and seemed surprised to see me for some reason. I wasn’t sure why since the men’s short program was next after a dinner break and all the competitors had surely arrived.

“Way to go!” Theodore said, jumping up to hug them quickly. They’d clearly skated well, and I congratulated them too as Theodore bumped his fist with their coach as Rebecca and Brent continued on to do press. “Henry, you know Dev Avira, right?”

I stood and shook his hand, my stomach fluttering ridiculously. “Yes. How’s Bailey?”

“Great! Having her first baby any day now and finishing her degree.” Dev grinned, his very straight teeth flashing bright against his brown skin. With his thick, glossy curls brushing the tips of his ears, he was very handsome, and when I was younger, I’d had a bit of a crush on him. And his husband. “Misha and I are going to be the godparents.”

“Awesome!” Theodore bumped his fist again. “He’s here, right?”

“Yep. Commentating for Russian TV.”

“I hope he said nice things about his husband’s team.” Theodore laughed. “Gotta love the incestuous world of skating.”

“Indeed. He rarely pulls his punches, but Becky and Brent nailed it today.”

“Clearly made the right move going to LA to train with you.” Theodore’s smile dimmed. “I miss it there.”

“I bet. I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Webber. Hope he’s doing okay?”

Theodore nodded too rapidly. “Yeah, yeah. He’s tough. He’ll be fine!”

Dev nodded too. “I really hope so.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of the incestuous world of skating, I didn’t expect to see you two so buddy-buddy. You’re the talk of the event. People are frankly shocked there hasn’t been bloodshed.”

That took me aback. The talk of the event? I glanced around, and sure enough a few people looked away suddenly. My skin prickled.

People were watching us? What were they saying? My pulse kicked up, though I wasn’t sure what exactly I was afraid of. I typically tried to ignore it, but gossip was in skating’s DNA.

Naturally, my mind leapt back to Anton, and the terror that it would all come out. No. Surely it would have already. It had been almost four years. Still, it was possible. Of course it was.

An iron band tightened around my chest, shame crashing through me like an explosion of lava. I’d been so gullible and weak and—

“Henry?” Theodore’s fingers touched my wrist. I whipped my hand away, crossing my arms as Theodore and Dev shared a frown.

Dev laughed uncertainly. “Hey, it’s okay. Didn’t mean to freak you out. The Gillooly thing was just a joke.”

I blinked. Apparently he’d said something else, but I hadn’t heard it in my panic. I swallowed hard. “I know.”

Theodore elbowed me. “Don’t worry. Everyone knows you’re way too honorable to have me whacked in the knee. I mean, you’re Canadian. I’m way more likely to take out a hit on you.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You’re annoyingly nice.”

They burst out laughing, and Theodore’s eyes lit up, his smile dimpling his cheeks. More heat washed through me. I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. This was why I didn’t like talking. But it didn’t seem like they were laughing at me, at least.

In fact, Theodore’s cheeks had gone pink. He said, “See? I really am impossible to resist.” He beamed at me and seemed about to say something else when he motioned with his chin. “Here’s Misha.”

Like Dev, Mikhail Reznikov was long and lean, though he was even taller than his husband. The male pairs skaters were typically the biggest of any skaters, and I’d often been attracted to them. As Misha greeted Dev with a warm, casual kiss on the lips, my belly somersaulted.

Dev and Misha had battled for gold, yet they’d ended up falling in love. When they’d gone public with their relationship, I’d devoured every interview and scrap of media coverage.