I grinned. He knew me so well. I turned so I was skating backwards. I was a couple of paces in front of him, but we were still in sync. “Should we start with the beginning of last year’s short program to get warmed up?” I asked.
Dom nodded, eyes sparkling under the bright fluorescent lights. A moment later, his expression changed. I knew he had turned all his focus to the routine. He offered me his hand and we pushed off together. We had a few warm-up moves, each of them so ingrained in my muscle memory that I didn’t have to think about what I was doing. Then both of my hands were in his and he lifted me into the air easily. I was above his head, legs spread, spinning as we went. A turn later and I was down, each of us balanced on one foot with our free hand outstretched.
We continued for a bit, getting past our side-by-side jumps and a bit of footwork before slowing down. Mark and Olga were standing near the boards at the entrance to the ice. He was wearing a nondescript black jacket and jeans, while Olga had her signature ruby red jacket on. I had been vaguely aware that they were watching at first, but once we started skating, my world shrunk to Dom and me. Everyone and everything else was simply background noise. Nothing else in the world mattered. It was a good thing in competitions, since I didn’t overthink all the judges and cameras watching me. It didn’t have the same benefits during practices, especially when somebody was trying to talk to us or get our attention.
We stopped in near unison, a few feet in front of Mark and Olga. Even though we had skated over on our own, we still stood only a foot apart. We didn’t need to be so close together when we were talking about our plans for ice time, technically speaking, but it was habit. If it were anybody else, I would feel crowded, but personal space with Dom was different somehow. Grinding up against him earlier had been weird, and maybe that feeling would extend to the ice too, but I didn’t think it would be so bad. On the ice, we were one. It was weirdnothaving him with me here. On the very rare occasions that I skated without him, I found myself looking for him absentmindedly.
“You practised your steps earlier?” Olga asked. We nodded and, if not quite pleased, she at least seemed satisfied. “Let’s see how the practice transfers to the ice.” She unclasped her hands, which were covered in black leather gloves, and gestured to the spot she wanted us to start from.
Dom and I took off for centre ice together, close enough that we could reach out and touch each other if we wanted to. My on-ice instincts for him felt like those of a child reaching for a favourite stuffed animal. Knowing that he was there if I needed him was always reassuring. I didn’t know why I would need to grab at him now, but him being next to me was comforting just the same.
We got settled into our opening position. I arched my back and leaned back slightly while Dom supported me. I did my best to look ladylike while Dom was allowed to look stoic. We stared into each other’s eyes like we had done a million times before, watching each other as we prepared to start. Yet the feeling from earlier came back, the tightening in my chest and warmth rushing through my body. The pressure of his fingers through my shirt sent a jolt of electricity through me.
Shit.
Dom was counting us in, so there was no time to think about it. Thankfully, my body registered that it needed to get moving before my brain did. Olga's criticism would be unbearable if failed to get out of the starting pose without screwing up. I might as well hang up my skates.
We moved slowly at first, arms out as we first skated away from each other and then closer together. A few spins as we skated in the same area, before we started off to one side of the rink. I could barely see him out of the corner of my eye as we flung ourselves into the air for a pair of triple Lutzes, landing in sync with our arms outstretched. It was the most difficult jump that we did, so it made sense to get it out of the way early.We could get extra points for doing moves in the last stretch of the program, but there were some things that were nearly impossible to pull off when you were exhausted. It was also why we had our twist in the first 45 seconds of the program.
Dom made it through the step sequence without speeding up like he had earlier, which meant Olga wasn’t yelling at us that we needed to fix our timing. A few more joining moves and then I was up against him like we had been in practice earlier, moving my hips. He spun me around with a grip of the hand, holding it through the rotations until I stopped so we were face to face. His free hand gently ran down my cheek and jaw while we stared into each other’s eyes. Focus, focus, focus, I told myself as he lifted me briefly, spinning both of us. My brain felt like it had turned to jello.
Thankfully, it was over with quickly. We started skating again and I turned my attention to our upcoming lift. We finished the program just off of centre ice, pulling out of a spin, bodies close together in a way that was awkward if you weren’t really focusing on what you were doing. Dom and I were both breathing hard as he pulled me out of my final position, making sure that I was steady before he let go.
“That didn’t go too badly,” he said.
I nodded rather than speaking. Two minutes and forty seconds wasn’t that long in most circumstances. But when you pushed yourself physically for that long on the ice, it took a surprising amount out of you. My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest and it would take me a bit to catch my breath. I licked my lips before saying, “Well, we didn’t fall. That’s got to count for something.”
“Because that's the bar we should be working to clear after eight years together,” Dom joked. “Any routine that doesn’t end in a fall is a success. That's going to get us gold medals at the Games.”
“Maybe, but we’re just hopefuls at this point,” I corrected.
Dom’s raised eyebrow made it clear that he thought we would have to screw up pretty badly to not make it. Even with our position as the favourites to win Nationals, I still didn’t like how he was talking.
“Don’t tempt fate,” I told him, looking down at my feet.
The sound of Mark and Olga skating towards us surprised me, making my head jerk back up. It really shouldn’t have. Of course, they would want to discuss what they’d seen with us after the routine, but I had been so focused on Dom that it had somehow caught me off-guard.
“I’m glad you practiced this morning,” Mark said, jumping right into it. He looked more satisfied than he had after any of our previous run-throughs. “We need to work on the fluidity of some of the dancing parts, though. You were much more consistent than you were last week with the footwork. Much better synchronization.”
I smirked at Dom, but he wasn’t paying attention. “I think the problem we’re having with the dancing stems from how different it is from everything else we’ve done." He spoke directly to Olga. "All the dance lessons we’ve had have been on more classical forms of dance, not whatever you want to describe this as.”
“You will be better after you have more practice,” Olga said firmly. She didn’t sound pleased, but her phrasing made it clear that she thought we could do it with some effort.
“It will probably feel less weird after more practice,” I said, the words slipping out of my mouth before I had time to think about the implications of what I was saying. Suddenly, the other three had all turned their heads and were looking down at me. Olga’s mouth was a thin line again. She never liked when we let silly things like emotions interfere with practice. Mark seemed confused about why I would find it strange at all. Dom was giving me a look I took to mean that we had already been overthis. If I was interpreting it all right, I could give them all some credit that there was some logic to what they were thinking.
Dom was confident when he spoke. “Brandon is dying in your head right now.” It wasn’t a question. He spoke with the authority of somebody who was absolutely sure of what they were saying.
He was irritatingly right. If Brandon saw the routine –whenhe saw the routine – he would not be happy. I had known that since the moment Mark had told us his idea. He still could not just let it go. I hadn’t even considered telling him about what Mark had been saying since. Nothing good could come from repeating Mark’s insistence that it needed to be sultry, sexy, and all those other words that nobody else’s boss would dare utter. Surely that was the main part of my discomfort: I was worried about what my boyfriend would think.
I wouldn’t dream of admitting that Brandon was affecting me, though. Letting your boyfriend influence your job was always bad. “I think it’s just because it’s different, like Dom said.” There, see him wiggle out of this when I used his own words. “Also, now I have it in my head that my mother is going to be watching at some point.”
“After everything your parents did to help you become a world-class skater, I think she will want you to do whatever you can to win,” Mark said firmly.
It felt absolutely ridiculous to say that somebody’s mother would be okay with them grinding against somebody they weren’t dating on international television, but he was probably right. My mother had not been a very open person when I was growing up. She had never talked to my brothers or me about dating, sex, or relationships. Most of that had come from school. But she had always been incredibly supportive of everything that I’d done on the ice. I’m sure the fact that everything on the ice was scrutinized and supervised reassured her. It probablyhelped that the first time she met Dom, he had been super polite and continued in the tradition since. I still found it weird how polite he remained to this day around them. He was never as formal as he was when he was talking to my mom and dad.
I didn’t know what to say, so I shut up. Everything that sprang to mind would seem like I was trying to back out of the sexy routine I’d agreed to earlier.
There was an uncomfortable silence, where everybody was looking at each other, but nobody was saying anything. Finally, Olga broke it by saying, “Okay. We will try again. You will focus on fluidity now. Start with the footwork and then the dance.”
