I spun out, hands coming out to my sides with flourish. Jumps and spins were a huge part of figure skating, but the most important thing about it was the artistry that came with it. You needed to bring the judges and fans into the performance and make them feelsomething.Every hand flick, every facial expression, every little dance move counted.
I transitioned from the spin to a leap in the air, legs spread in a split. Every move was choreographed perfectly to fit the music, filling every moment.
With the song seconds away from ending, I put the last ofmy energy into the last spin of my routine. Squatting down, my left leg came parallel with the ice, arms coming around to wrap around my leg as I rotated.
The world blurred as I moved, the song approached it’s final notes.
“I’m willing to…wait for it.”
It ended just long enough for me to stand up and spin once more before stopping on my toe pick, head and arms thrown back.
I held the position for a moment, chest heaving, eyes glued to the rafters. I finally broke the hold and stood straight up, hands coming to my hips as I tried to catch my breath. Four minutes straight of skating had my lungs and thighs burning. This new ending to the routine was even harder than the previous one I was practicing.
Regionals were only two weeks away, which meant I didn’t have much longer to get this right. This would be my first figure skating competition being back in the circuit as I tried to make it to the Olympics one final time. I was going to do my absolute best to not fall flat on my face.
“You’re distracted,” Marcy commented when I neared the boards. She held out my water bottle. I took it with a winded, “Thank you.”
I was distracted. Hard not to be when all I could think about was Mateo. What we did a few nights ago replayed in my mind on a constant loop. The feel of him, the taste, the way he made my toes curl and my body shudder with every brush of his hand and tongue. I swear I could still feel the aftershocks of the orgasms he gave me.
So, yeah, my mind was not here at all.
“I know.”
“Want to tell me what it is?” she asked.
I stayed quiet for a moment, debating if I should tell her about Mateo or not. Not that I thought Marcy would beupset if I was dating, but she knew how serious I was about my career. How I’d do anything for it. There was a good chance she’d ask if Mateo was worth it. I didn’t have an answer for that quite yet.
“I met someone,” I finally answered.
I braced myself for whatever Marcy was going to say. She was my coach, but she was also a motherly figure in my life, so I did care about her opinion.
“Okay.”
“I know but—wait. What?” Her response floored me. I froze on the ice, eyes wide as I stared at her, truly not expecting nonchalance on the matter.
“Emmie, you’re a grown woman, and you can make your own decisions. It’s not my business or my place to tell you what to do outside of skating.”
“I…”
Marcy flashed an amused smile. “It is possible to have a life outside of skating.”
I knew that,but sometimes it was easier said than done. I’d spent most of my life striving to be the best that everything else went to the wayside. Now that I was older and trying to figure out life outside of skating, I was starting to realize I missed out on a lot.
“You still need to show up and perform.” She gave me a pointed look, referring to my distractedness and continued. “But I’m happy you’ve met someone. What’s his name?”
It felt a little odd to talk about my love life with her, but the urge to tell someone other than Erin pushed in.
“His name is Mateo.” I looked down at my skates as a smile grew on my face. “He’s… He’s pretty great.”
Mateo was more than I ever expected him to be. I immediately pegged him as a cocky football player and wrote him off, but he was far from that. He was probably the most humble person I’d met. He cared about his friends, his team,his family. He was way more than just some guy that threw balls for a living.
Marcy’s eyes roamed my face, her gaze softening at whatever she saw. “You like him.” She said it so simply. I didn’t try to argue because it was the truth.
“I really do. He’s an athlete too, so he understands me better than anyone ever has.” The weight of expectation, the discipline, the obsession to be the best… It wasn’t something I had to explain to him. He got it.
“What sport does he play?”
I tugged my lower lip into my mouth and shot her a sheepish look. “He plays football.”
