Page 18 of Love and Other Penalties
“I promise.” He presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Now promise me you’ll get some sleep.” He touches his lips to my cheek next, then below my ear. “Okay?”
I curl up against his side, my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around me. For the first time in days, the constant tension in my chest eases.
I promise.I’m not sure I say the words out loud, as I’m already drifting toward sleep. The last thing I remember is the steady rhythm of Finn’s breathing and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I’m already gone for Finn too.
nine
. . .
I’m sittingat the airport, earbuds in, routine music on, eyes closed as I mentally go through my Free Skate routine. I’m traveling alone to Nagoya, as I fired my mother as my coach and I didn’t hire a new one.
I push off the corner of my phone case and extract a small piece of paper from where I keep it against the back of the device.
I WANTsits at the top, and I recite every letter of the first sentence.
…to try to qualify and skate in the Olympic Games.
Gold or no gold, I don’t care about that. Gold is my mother’s dream, not mine. I just want to skate in the Olympics as part of Team USA.
…to tell Finn I love him and really mean it and feel it.
I smile softly at the second of only three items on my list. I’ve shown it to Finn, and I told him it wasn’t organized in order of importance.
…to bake with and for my dad until he’s ready to retire from the cupcakery. Then I’ll take it over.
I’ve sat down with him and talked that through too, and I know my place is in Briarwood. Cinching in my stomach tells me that I might not get everything I want, because I still have to qualify for the team, and Finn could be traded to another team, in another city—heck, another country—and then what will I do?
Pack my flour and sugar and piping bags, I think.
I tuck the paper back between the phone and the case and close my eyes again. I can see myself in my feathered costume, a blue streak of motion and power on the ice in Japan.
Someone sits next to me, but I ignore them. I’m deep into my amazing footwork, which leads into the long strokes that flow into my triple lutz.
In my mind, I see it perfectly, imagine myself executing it with exactness. I hear the crowd cheer and fantasize about what the television announcers might say about my flawless execution.
Someone touches my left arm, and I flinch away at the same time I reach up to swipe the earbuds out of my ears. I look left, my heart pounding as I lean away from a would-be attacker.
Finn is sitting there, all smiles, one hand up in surrender.
I blink, sure my eyes aren’t seeing correctly.
He holds up his phone, but I can’t focus on it. “What?—?”
“You’re in seat four-D, right?” He tucks his phone under his leg.
“Yes.”
He grins and grins. “I’m in four-C.” He settles back into his seat and folds his arms. He looks like a giant in a chair made for children, and I can only gape at him.
“You’re coming to Nagoya?”
“Yep.”
“What about the—the schedule? The team?” I lean closer. “Your position.” I hiss the last words at him, searching his face for some explanation.
“I had a meeting with Coach Kessler and Xavier, and we came to an agreement. I’ll be in Japan with you for a few days, and Xavier’s going to play my position. Coach is going to put me on the injured list, which is sort of true, because the thought of you traveling alone, performing without anyone cheering for you in the stands, and making the team without someone to celebrate with makes my heart break.”
He smiles and slings his arm around me. “And I certainly can’t skate and shoot with a broken heart.”
