“I don’t care,” he said, talking into my hair. “We are champions. Officially.”
I grinned at him. The words made my stomach jump into my chest. Hazel Pierce and Dominic Hughes, Winter Games champions. It had a nice ring to it. And now it was true, not just a longstanding dream of ours. “We did it.”
He leaned down and planted a kiss along my hairline. “We did it,” he murmured. My throat went dry, even though he’d kissed my head several times before. “We did it together.”
I desperately wanted a sip of water. My entire torso tingled. I didn't trust myself to speak. I had to settle for nodding.
There was no time to process what had just happened before we were being pulled all over the place. Everyone seemed to want a piece of the new winning team. Thankfully, most of the questions you got asked immediately after a skate were predictable. Somebody would ask how you were feeling, like it wasn’t an obviously fantastic feeling to have won something you had been working towards your entire life, and you would talk about how good it was like it was a surprising answer. You could also expect a question about any milestones that were passed, either with your score or if the victory had an interesting place in your country’s history. And, like it or not, people always liked to hear about a comeback story.
Because Dom and I had struggled a bit with the Grand Prix finals, I had a prepared answer about how it felt to have come back from that competition strongly enough to beat the reigning champions. But this time, the question wasn’t lobbed at me. It was directed to Elodie. I guess, even four years later, her struggles at the last Games were more impressive when followed up with a win than Dom and mine.
“I have tried not to think too much about four years ago,” Elodie said into the microphone. “I wanted to focus on doing my best this time to help my team, since they were all relying on me. I am so glad to have been able to help them out and to have gotten this win after all the struggles I’ve had.”
The interviews after a competition were usually my least favourite part of it. Less so when we had done well, but without question when we had done poorly. Yet for once, I didn’t mind talking about whatever the interviewers brought up. I was enjoying revelling in our gold and the stream of congratulations and excitement kept the mood going. It also didn’t hurt that there were so many people to split the attention with.
By the time we got away from the cameras and the interviewers, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I still can’t believe this is real.”
“Believe it, baby!” Nick said. He hadn’t stopped beaming yet, either. “We are going to have gold medals around our necks soon.”
“That isn’t going to seem real until I can feel the weight of it,” Alexa said. She rested one of her hands on her chest absentmindedly, where the medal would rest.
“Gold medals and the anthem.” Nick was practically bouncing with excitement. “Then you’ll never have to wonder if you’re dreaming again.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop wondering if this all actually happened,” Grace said, shaking her head. “I haven’t let myselfgo there ever since Katya showed up.” As important as it was to believe in yourself, I had to admit that it was probably a good call. There was being confident, and then there was believing in something incredibly unlikely would happen. As long as Katya was healthy, she was about as unstoppable as a runaway train. Grace’s dark eyes darted between each of us in turn. “I’m so glad that we’re able to say that we are champions as a team now, though. It couldn’t have happened with a better group of people.”
Elodie had tears glistening in her eyes as she pulled the woman she usually competed against into a hug. “I agree. I’m glad I get to share this with you.”
When we made our way to the top of the podium together, she wasn’t the only one who was fighting back tears. I wanted to remember every moment of the ceremony, from the countless flashing lights that illuminated the otherwise dark room to the weight of the medal being draped over my neck to singing along with the national anthem, loudly and off-key, beside my teammates.
Dom mirrored my thoughts as we were leaving to head back to Athlete’s Village after the medal ceremony. From there, we would need to get ready to meet up with our parents and siblings for a quick bite to eat and some celebratory sightseeing. “I am so glad that my parents obsessively record every competition we’re in. I would never get tired of reliving this.”
“Definitely,” I said as we weaved our way through the crowd. “This night will be hard to top.” Tied maybe, but not beat. Not anytime soon.
Dom glanced at me sideways with a look that made me think he had something up his sleeve. Sure enough, he said, “I can think of a few things that would make this better.” He raised his eyebrows, his face illuminated in the darkness by the light of the streetlights, and he smirked.
I stumbled over my own feet as we walked down the sidewalk. “What?” He surely couldn’t be implying what I thought he was implying.
“Cake,” he said with the mock innocence of somebody who knew exactly what he’d made me think and why it was a bad idea. “You aren’t about to argue that having a giant slice of cake to celebrate wouldn’t make this night better, are you? Maybe a drink we could toast with, too. Then getting to sleep forever.”
“Oh,” I said. My cheeks burned. “No, I wouldn’t argue with that. It’s just the way you said it made me think...”
Dom’s shit-eating grin made me feel dumb. “What, you thought I was going to suggest that we do something that backfired the last time we did it?” He laughed at my red face and gave me a gentle elbow jab. “Even if it was pretty damn good.”
Images of his body, naked and on top of mine, flooded my mind before I could push them away. My heart started beating harder against my ribs. He was right. It had been really fucking good. But damn, if there had ever been a time when we shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks, it was in the midst of competing.
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket so I wouldn’t be tempted to pick at my nails. “You shouldn’t talk like that,” I said, admittedly more to my feet than him.
“Why? Am I too hard to resist?” he joked.
My head snapped up to look at him again, so fast that my neck hurt. “I’m serious,” I said sternly. “Don’t make me think about that again. I… I can’t think about how good things could be in different circumstances. Not now. I do not want to risk screwing things up again.”
He opened his mouth twice before finally responding. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice serious. “Even as I said it, I wasn’t sure if it was too far.” He bit his lip. “Believe me, I get the temptation to think about what happened. Maybe even give it another shot.” He sighed. “But you’re right. No distractions now.”
His audible disappointment made me feel a bit better. If I had to tell him I couldn’t handle the flirty undertones to his teasing right now, at least I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t happy about the situation.
It took longer for us to get back to Athlete’s Village than I had been expecting. There were so many people milling about that we constantly had to step around people who had stopped in their tracks, either to take photos or to talk to people they had just run into. Now that we were further into the Games, the crowds had been ever increasing. It was getting harder and harder to make your way anywhere in a reasonable amount of time or to get a good view of anything. Even though we had been so focused on preparing for the first event, was thankful that we had taken a bit of time to check things out before the crowd had gotten crazy.
The halls of the building I had been assigned to were well lit and loud, with people milling about. I could hear conversations in several languages and multiple songs blasting, each one competing with the others to be heard. I had never been so grateful that I had brought earplugs with me in my life. Despite the strict instructions we had received to keep our heads down and stay focused, most people weren’t listening to that. Even with earplugs, an eye mask, and a white noise machine, it had been difficult to get to and stay asleep.
