I went home to drop off my things and take a long shower. I took my time shaving my legs and using deep conditioner on my hair to buy a few extra minutes. When I had run out of excuses, I finally texted Brandon.
Do you want to come over for a bit?
Sure. Want me to pick something up for dinner? Maybe pizza?
What I wanted and what I should do were very different. Now that I was getting back into the season, I needed to watch my food choices. Dom and I knew we had to be in the best shape of our lives if we wanted to be really competitive.
I don’t think it’s a good idea. I was going to cook some chicken. And I have a bunch of stuff for sides.
Sure. Be over once I’m done with work.
I had almost finished cooking dinner by the time Brandon arrived. I went to open the door, leaving the veggies I was chopping up for the salad half-cut. It would be convenient if hehad a key, but we weren’t there yet. So instead, I had to let him in.
He was standing a couple of feet back from my door, looking down the hallway, when I opened the door. He was dressed in what I had quickly learned was his typical summer uniform: shorts, a graphic t-shirt, and black running shoes. “Hey.”
I moved out of the way so he could come in. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “How was your day?” Best to start with the conversational ball in his court, so to speak. No point in starting the evening with an uncomfortable conversation.
“Busy. Lots of dumb people at work.” He must have just slid his shoes off, because his footfalls were quiet as he followed me into my tiny kitchen. “Need any help?” he asked, rubbing his hand against the light brown stubble that was covering his jawline.
“No, I’m almost done,” I said, tipping my cutting board over the salad bowl and pushing all the veggies in with the knife I was using. “Unless you want to get out plates and stuff, you can just grab a drink.”
He did both, first getting the plates out of the cupboard that was awkwardly high only for somebody as short as me before opening the fridge. He stared inside for a few minutes before deciding on something. “What did you do today?”
“I went to spin class with Elodie and Seohyun before heading to the rink. Then we just did the usual, running through the program we have so far.”
“Which one is that?” he asked as he reached into another cupboard for glasses.
He didn’t know much about skating, but he was trying to learn. It was slow going, but I hoped it would speed up once we were into the season properly. Then again, we wouldn’t see each other as much once I had to start travelling to competitions. With a bitof luck, a good chunk of my fall and winter would involve travel and adjusting to time changes.
“The free skate. We haven’t done much for the short program yet.” I put the cutting board and knife into my tiny dishwasher. The good thing about living alone was that it took a while to fill up, even though it was apartment sized. “But speaking of the short program, we ended up deciding on music for it.”
“Oh, cool,” he said. “Today?”
I turned to face him. I felt like I should tell him head-on, so he couldn’t accuse me of trying to hide it from him. “Actually, we picked it at the end of last week.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, but I couldn’t help but feel like he was suspicious. Maybe it was just my nerves about breaking the news.
I swallowed hard. “Well, I just want to give you the head’s up that Mark wants to really lean into the rapport Dom and I have on the ice.” I caught myself at the last second before the wordchemistrycould slip from my lips. “So he wants to do something that is fun and easy to dance to.”
“Is it another one of those old songs I wouldn’t know?”
I shook my head. When he looked at me expectantly, I told him the song Mark and Olga had decided would make up most of the musical score. “It won’t be all of it, but it will be the majority. They think we might need some slower instrumental music in the middle.Remember how I explained we do that sometimes, to give us a chance to slow down and catch our breath?” I knew I was rambling, but it was hard to fight the urge. A part of me felt like maybe if I kept talking, he wouldn’t think too much about the song.
His brows, thinner and much lighter than Dom’s, furrowed. He was typing something furiously on his phone. I hadn’t heard it buzz with a text, and it was soon clear why. He turned up thevolume as the opening notes of the song played. “This one? This song?” he asked, tone harsh.
I nodded. Getting words out was a struggle. “That’s the one.”
Brandon looked between me and his phone several times in quick succession. A second later, the music stopped and he slammed his phone down on the counter. The noise made me jump, stomach in my throat. “Are you serious? You picked a song where some guy is singing about the girl he wants to fuck?”
“I didn’t pick it. Mark and Olga picked it,” I said. I wasn’t sure that made it sound much better, so I added, “I don’t know if they are even going to keep the lyrics while we skate, if that’s what you’re worried about. They picked it for the beat.”
The beat was certainly was one of the contributing factors. But no matter what I said, I knew the lyrics contributed to the decision. The song was new enough that people would recognize it and know the words, even if we just went with the instrumental version. Among those people, the message that Brandon was so worried about would come through loud and clear.
“You’re saying that this is Mark and Olga’s idea? Not Dominic’s?” he asked. He somehow made Dom's name sound like a curse.
“No, it wasn’t Dom’s idea.” I crossed my arms so he couldn’t see my balled-up fists. “Mark thought that we should pick something different from what other pairs are going to pick. It will help us stand out. He wanted Olga to choreograph a routine that would get people talking.”
“And one that would get you and Dominic to look at each other like you want to fuck each other in front of thousands of people,” he said bluntly.
