CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Mara had never had asmuch sex as she had after the team sprint.
At one point, in the middle of the night, after a sleepy round three, Kirby kissed Mara’s bicep and asked what they were.
“Are you asking to define the relationship, Kirby?” Mara’s arms were heavy. She was so drained.
“I guess so.”
Every other time they’d fooled around, they’d fought or miscommunicated or made digs at each other afterward.
Mara wasn’t going to let that happen this time.
“We go to Sweden after this,” Mara said. The World Cup resumed less than a week after the Olympics ended. “Falun, Lahti, Oslo, Lake Placid,” she continued, listing the hosts of the rest of the World Cup events.
“You’re so good at schedules,” Kirby said, a bit bemused. “Are we gonna fuck our way from Scandinavia to New York?”
Mara’s career would be over soon, but her life seemed suddenly open. Like something just as exciting could be starting.
It was hard to say the words. To open herself up to the possibility of hurt. To be vulnerable.
But she’d taken a crash course in vulnerability over the past few days, and nothing but good had come of it.
“How about we date and fuck and fall for each other from Scandinavia to New York?” Mara said.
Kirby rolled on top of Mara, quick as a cat, and framed her face with her hands. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Mara shrugged, almost like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal. They both knew it. “What do you have going on in the off-season? Training camps and a TV show?”
“Yes. Probably.”
Mara’s heart started to race but not in a good way. “Another dating show?” She had no idea how those contractual obligations worked.
“No. It’s a game show.”
“LikeHollywood Squares?”
A slow, affectionate smile spread over Kirby’s face. “Kind of. But that reference dates you more than the MySpace one, princess.”
“Ugh, stop.”
“And what are you going to do this summer?” Kirby asked.
“I have no idea.” Most skiers who retired had a plan. They went on to be coaches or motivational speakers or commentators. Mara just wanted tobe.
“Well, whatever we do, let’s do it together,” Kirby said.
Mara traced her fingertip over the scar below Kirby’s eyebrow. “I’m not doing a game show with you.”
“Mara, I say this with all the kindness in my heart, but you don’t have enough charisma to be asked on a game show.”
A laugh cracked out of Mara. There had never been a truer statement.
“We should sleep,” Kirby said.
Mara nodded, her eyes starting to droop at the suggestion.
