Page 175

Fuck, I’m a lost cause when it comes to her, but I have zero regrets.

Her smile is worth all the pain I’ve endured over the last two and a half years.

“Hey,” I say as she skates over to me.

“Hi. How long have you been here?” she asks, her words a little strained from exertion.

“Long enough to see you do a perfect quad lutz.” I reach over and tuck a few flyaways behind her ear, then cup her cheek. “You’re out of this world.”

“Thank you.” She covers my hand with hers and leans into my hold. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Fire flashes behind her irises as she leans forward. “I love being on the ice, but I know plenty of places I’d rather be with you.”

“I love how you think.” I wink and release her. “Go change, and then we can leave.”

“Sounds good.” She grasps my wrist and plants a kiss on my palm before she backs away. “Wait for me near the locker room.”

“What if I wait with you in the locker room?”

Head thrown back, she lets out a laugh. “It’s tempting, but there’s a group practice scheduled to start soon, and the girls are six years old.”

“Bummer.” I shrug as she skates away. “Come back to me quickly; I’m having withdrawals.”

“You’re impossible.”

I grin as she disappears. In a matter of minutes, she will be in my arms again.

And this time, I’m not letting her go.

I unlock the door of my apartment, then step back and let her in first. She enters slowly, taking it in, and I follow with her duffel bag in my hand.

When I pull the door closed, cutting us off from the outside world with a soft click, the air charges, like it did in the car on the way here. Like it always does when we’re together.

Clearing my throat, I push away the desire to drag her to my bedroom immediately. “Welcome to my home. I really hope you like it.”

She slips her Chucks off and glances at me over her shoulder. “It’s yours. Of course I’m gonna like it.”

Barefoot, she moves to the threshold of the living room and pauses.

I try to see the place through her eyes, noting the high ceilings and the floor-to-ceiling windows with a perfect view of the city. The dark gray sectional with throw pillows faces the windows, a black wooden coffee table in front of it. The TV on the wall is massive, of course, and the bookshelves are filled with books, trophies, and photo frames.

She takes a few steps forward and runs her fingers over the back of the couch. “This feels like you.”

I set her duffel bag on the floor and pad toward her. Cupping her cheek, I tilt her face up to me. “Do you like it?”

Her lips tip up just a little. “I’ve only seen the living room, but yeah, I like it.”

I lead her to the window, shifting so I’m standing behind her with her back against my chest. Central Park stretches out below, the trees bathed in the late afternoon sunlight.

“The view is great, and I’m close to the rink, but I chose this place for the quiet more than anything else. The calm,” I tell her, holding her close. “The second I close the door, all the noise, real and figurative, stays outside.”

“I get it. I get the same kind of feeling when I step into my apartment in Boston, or when I stay in Santa Clara with my parents.”

“How long will you be in New York?” I hide my nose in her hair, breathing her in. The peach and vanilla scent is as familiar as it is comforting. “We talked so much during lunch, but I feel like we barely scratched the surface.”

“We have a lot to catch up on.” She snuggles into me. “I’ll be training here until the Olympics.”