Page 75 of Puck Happens

Dillon snorted. “No.”

I tucked my phone away. “Then I’m not going to show you.”

He pulled the phone out of my hand and hit the play button on the screen.

“Hey!” I said and reached for the phone, but he held it above his head and out of my reach. Familiar music began to play.

We were showing each other our best highlights. Mine was obviously the long program when we took the gold medal at Worlds. Our music that year was Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, and Brian’s costume was as dramatic as anything that had ever been imagined by our costume designer. She said she’d wanted his Romeo to be a peacock, and well, he looked like a peacock.

“Is his face green and purple?” Dillon asked, watching the video.

“You’re supposed to be watching me skate,” I objected.

He continued to watch the video. “Classical music? Isn’t that out?”

“I thought you didn’t pay attention to figure skating?”

“Whoa, what was that?”

“Side by side triple lutzs”

He grunted. “Nice.”

The music started to swell and I knew exactly where we were in our routine. The difficulty level in the second half of our routine was the highest of any teams that year. The following year – the year of my accident – we’d pushed ourselves even further. The lift Dillon was watching was one of my favorites: a triple twist lift.

The muscles in my abdomen and chest remembered their jobs during that lift and I fought to keep myself still.

“Holy shit!” he barked. “How fucking high did he throw you?”

I laughed. “We never officially measured, but it’s about six feet.”

“And he catches you?”

“Hello, you just watched it,” I said, pointing to the screen.

“That’s sick as fuck,” he muttered.

The music slowed and I did my backwards bend into the Death Spiral. Then eventually we collapsed into each other’s arms to end our routine.

I could hear the cheers coming from the phone. Could remember every second of that feeling. The high of performing at that level. Knowing we’d nailed the routine. Realizing we had a shot at winning.

“Look at you, babe,” he said, his arms coming around me, pulling the phone closer to his face. “Look how happy you were.”

The tears welled up before I could stop them, but I fought them back. No crying over the past. That was my rule. “Yeah. I really loved it.”

“Does it bother you to watch these videos?”

“I haven’t watched any videos since my accident.”

I saw him register what I was saying. That for whatever reason, I was ready to do that now. With him. In a Calico Cove laundromat.

Recovery was weird.

“You’re amazing,” he said, and kissed me.

Jeez. Why was I so emotional? Too much sex? Was that a thing?

“Okay, now let’s do mine,” he said.

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