by Erin McRae
Katie approached as he dug through his bag for his skate guards, still out of breath.
“Are you okay?” she asked, pulling on her own gloves.
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”
Katie looked unconvinced, but she didn’t press. Aaron was thankful.
“Good,” she said. “Let’s start from the top of your short program, okay?” She brandished the remote for the rink’s sound system. “It’s time to make decisions about jump composition.”
Aaron wondered if Katie somehow knew he’d spent last night with Zack and was testing him on purpose, or if the universe just had the worst sense of humor. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. His run-through was choppy at best. When they moved on to trying out different jumps in different places, he couldn’t land anything, not even his old standby, the triple lutz. His attempt at a quad toe - triple toe combo ended with him sprawled halfway across the ice.
Katie stood there and watched him, the line of her mouth getting thinner every time he fell. Finally, he two-footed a triple sal, wobbled precariously and crashed onto his ass.
“Okay,” she said. “Break time. Before you break yourself.”
At the boards Aaron gulped water, as if that would somehow help him find stability, and pulled off his hoodie so he was just wearing a t-shirt.
“Aaron,” Katie said, looking up from her notebook.
Aaron ran his fingers through his disaster hair in the vain hope he might smooth it down somewhat. “Yes ma’am?”
“Charlotte has talked to you about training at other skating centers, right?”
“Um...some?” Aaron had no idea what this had to do with anything.
“I presume she’s told you all about the rules a lot of coaches have. Not only about how to work out and what to eat but who you can date. When and how you can have sex. With other people or yourself.”
“What makes you think I had sex?” Aaron blurted. His face, unhelpfully, was burning.
A quiver of amusement tugged at the corner of Katie’s mouth. “Did you look in a mirror before you left—wherever you left, this morning?”
“Why?” Aaron glanced down at himself. “Ah. I see.” Dotted across the upper part of his chest were numerous hickeys and other bruises. He could only imagine how many more were on his throat and jaw that he couldn’t see.
Katie continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Here, you will notice, we have no such rules. Because we are coaches, and we are here to help you, and we want you to have satisfying lives both on and off the ice. Right?”
“Right.” Aaron resisted the urge to pull his hoodie back on.
“To be clear, you can do whatever you want. In your own time. As long as it does not leave you splattered across my ice.”
“Er.” Aaron said. His face was on fire. He was fairly sure his hair was blushing.
“Whatever you did last night, restrain yourself in the future, okay? At least until after the Olympics.”
Aaron was sure his face did a thing at the word restrain. “The problem isn’t what I did last night,” he said before he could stop himself. Discretion was probably the better part of valor here, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“It’s not?” Katie looked wary.
“I mean yes, I hooked up with Zack, and you’re probably right that’s not a distraction I need but Charlotte got mad when I didn’t come home last night and googled him and showed me this morning and apparently he’s like, this really big bondage photographer and—” Aaron ran out of air and had to gulp some down. “Now I’m freaking out about a lot of things?
Katie took a deep breath. In for four seconds, hold for four seconds, out for eight seconds. Aaron recognized it because it was a breathing pattern she’d made all of them learn for regulating anxiety and stress. He bit his lip; she was trying not to kill someone.
“Skates off,” Katie said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and guiding him toward the door to the ice. “Let’s see if the yoga studio is free.”
THE YOGA STUDIO WAS one of the little rooms in the warren that made up the rink complex. It had probably been a conference room in a former life. Aaron appreciated the choice, because it meant he could sit on the floor, fold his chest to his knees, and make no eye contact whatsoever.
“What do you need?” Katie asked him. The fact that she was echoing what Zack had asked him a few hours ago didn’t help his equilibrium.
“Self-control and the ability to google?” he mumbled.
“Self-control isn’t your biggest problem, and we all could have googled. Do the pictures bother you?”
“No,” Aaron told his knees. “Not really. And I guess I don’t mind that I didn’t know. Everybody has hobbies. It’s just...distracting.”
“I can see why it might be, yes.”
“Also, I think I really like him,” Aaron confessed. “No matter what ridiculous thing I do or say, he just nods like it’s as unsurprising and miraculous as the sun rising and setting.”
Katie was silent for a moment.
Aaron hoped she wasn’t going to do the must-not-commit-murder breathing thing again. “I know I sound ridiculous. I know I’ve known him for all of five minutes. I know I always do this. But this is different. I promise.”
“You don’t sound ridiculous,” Katie said, her voice gentle now. “You sound like someone who wants to be seen. Now, do you want my opinion about this as your coach or as your friend?”
Aaron looked up at her. That was a choice he did not want to make. “I’ll take whatever’s useful.”
“All right. Everyone will make you think they can get to an Olympics by being absolutely regimented about every single aspect of their life at every second of every day. And I am here to tell you that is not possible. No matter how regimented you are, the fact that you’re human will come out somewhere. For Brendan and I it was the screaming matches and the panic. For you, maybe it’s how you’re always looking for love. Or maybe it’s this one particular guy. It is, of course, also possible that you just need a hobby. I don’t know, and I don’t care. My only job is to help you find what you need and make sure you don’t blow up your life in the process.”
“But you don’t like Zack. Or don’t trust him, or something. You didn’t want him at the farm.”
Katie shook her head. “I don’t have any feelings about him one way or the other. He was supposed to be useful and then...you were you.”
“Sorry about that.”
“We both know you’re not sorry, but Aaron, listen to me. I don’t care about the photos or whatever. I really don’t. I think the world is wildly fucked up for the ways it judges people. But it does judge people. If you want to have a boyfriend who’s a war reporter and bondage photographer...” Katie trailed off and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why is this happening to me?” she muttered to herself. “Look...don’t let him take any photos of you, and if you’re just in it for the sex, find someone else. This will all be funny after the Olympics. But not right now.”
Aaron stared at the faded pattern on the carpet, absorbing that. He felt strangely light, a burden he hadn’t known was there lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t need his coach’s permission or approval to date whoever he wanted to date—or fuck whoever he wanted to fuck. Like Katie had said, TCI wasn’t that kind of training center. But still. Knowing that being with Zack wasn’t going to be an issue was a relief.
“Do you think I’m going to get there?” he asked. “To Almaty.”
Katie looked at him for a long moment. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “You’re still looking for something, probably in the wrong places. But if you find it? Yeah. Then you’ll get there.”
Chapter 12
THE SAME MORNING
Twin Cities Ice
ONCE AARON LEFT, ZACK set about doing the cleaning they’d ignored last night in lieu of sex. The temptation to crawl back into bed and sleep for another few hours was strong, but getting the dishes done now instead of later was probably the more re
sponsible thing to do.
Sleeping with Aaron had probably not been responsible, however. Zack had been divorced for less than six months. He was definitely still in rebound territory. Aaron was trying to get to the Olympics. And the campsite rule probably didn’t approve of introducing aspiring Olympians to bondage weeks before the most important season of their careers began.
Oh well.
Zack whistled to himself as he put clean dishes away and wiped down the counter. He couldn’t bring himself to feel remorse or regret. Aaron was adorable and hot and eager and had been more than happy with everything Zack had offered. And as unwise as it may have been, Zack was pleased with himself. He liked Aaron. A lot. And last night, and this morning, had been excellent.
With the kitchen once more clean, Zack considered his options for the rest of the day. Revisions on his article draft wouldn’t come back from Sammy for a few weeks. Unless there was yelling. Then it might happen sooner, but it still wasn’t going to happen today.
He didn’t need to burn time chasing down Sauer for a comment at the moment either. There were probably emails he could send to his lawyer about his place in Miami, but that could wait. And he could noodle around with the personal essay that he was suspecting might become a full-fledged memoir, but.... He had time and a city to settle into.
It was probably only natural that he gravitated to the rink—and for once, not because Aaron was also going to be there, although Zack did see his car in the parking lot as he walked in. The sight made him smile even as he had no intention of being a distraction or otherwise interfering with Aaron’s work day.
Cal, the front desk guy, greeted Zack warmly and waved him back as usual, but Zack stopped at the counter. “Actually, I’m here to skate today.”
“You mean unlike every other day you’re here?” Cal grinned.
“I mean, on my own. If that’s a thing I can do?” Zack realized belatedly that he didn’t know anything about the public side of skating at TCI at all. He probably should have called. Or googled. Or just asked Aaron.
Cal, though, was enthusiastic. “Oh yeah, of course! The schedule’s there,” he said, pointing to a bulletin board across the lobby. “There’s public skate, that’s for anybody, any level, and you can rent skates if you need, though you’ve got your own, right?”
Zack nodded.
“Then there’s practice sessions for the people taking the intro-level group lessons. The kids are great but you probably don’t want to deal with those. A bunch of six-year-olds with hockey gear and no fear is chaos. We’ve also got stick and puck and pickup hockey sessions if you’re interested in that. It’s a good group and they’re always looking for new people.”
“That’s more choices than I was anticipating.” Zack said. He paid for the afternoon’s public session, and held out his arm for Cal to put a wristband on.
He couldn’t help smiling as he followed Cal’s directions down a different route than he usually took. TCI had four sheets of ice, and while Zack had been coming here for weeks he had never spent time in any of the rinks other than the one Aaron and the other high-level skaters principally used. But the smell of the rubber mats and industrial disinfectant was the same throughout the complex, as was the bite of cold, the fluorescent lighting, and the constant hum of compressors. It felt pleasantly familiar and just a little bit like home.
Public sessions in the middle of the day, as it turned out, were more or less empty. Getting his own skates on and getting onto the ice felt like a much less daunting task when the only other people there were a woman who might have been in her seventies practicing footwork and a father with his young daughter clinging to his hands.
The woman who had fallen and hit her head—Tasha, if Zack remembered correctly—came out on the ice as he was skating laps to warm up. She caught his eye and waved, looking none the worse for wear. Zack smiled and waved back.
Since her accident Zack had felt more confident on the ice. He could stay upright, go fast, and if Tasha had survived her fall, he’d probably be fine. Although he was starting to get the sense that skaters were as easily as tough as anyone he’d known when he’d been in the field. He wasn’t sure he, himself, was that tough, but he’d probably survive.
The real problem—if he allowed himself to view anything about his skating as a problem—was grace. He did not have it. Not like this. He also wasn’t sure if he wanted it. Sometimes, Zack knew, it was best to play to your strengths.
As he practiced stroking and worked on his stops, he thought about his options. Until Cal’s little spiel he hadn’t given hockey much thought. Much like public skating at TCI in general, he knew it existed, but the figure skating community was so self-contained, that it and hockey might have been in two separate universes.
But there was an instant appeal in the idea. He could keep skating—which he enjoyed—without undue overlap with Aaron’s sphere. Which maybe was giving himself too much credit, but given the whole introducing-aspiring-Olympian-to-bondage thing, he wanted to score karma points where he could. Besides, if he was going to be in the Twin Cities for the next little while, he could stand to have something to do and to meet more people.
At the end of the session, he went back to the front desk to ask Cal for more information. As they were chatting—and Cal was happily inundating him with various schedules and flyers—Katie walked by. Zack nodded at her and was surprised when she stopped to say hello.
“You’re thinking about starting hockey?” she asked, with a glance at the calendar Cal had laid on the counter for him.
“Yeah,” he said, curious what her reaction would be. Katie had never been an obstacle to his work covering Aaron and the TCI skating program, but she had never seemed overly thrilled at his presence either. Zack could both understand and respect that. They each had their own professional priorities to attend to: him, his writing; her, her skaters. He wondered what it was like to be responsible for so many people’s high-stake careers. Perhaps someday she’d even let him write about her.
“You can’t play hockey in those,” she said with a glance at the skates he was holding, the ones Aaron had liberated from somewhere for his first day on the ice.
“Do you think I can play hockey at all?” he asked. He realized, with no small amount of surprise at himself, that he wanted Katie’s approval for this endeavor.
Katie looked him up and down. Zack found himself standing up straighter under her gaze.
“You’re big enough and you’re stubborn,” she finally said. “Any rec league could do worse, that’s for sure,” she added, with what might have been a smile.
It was the kindest thing she’d ever said to him, and Zack gave her a crooked smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now. Niceties over. We need to talk.” Katie grabbed his arm and started walking.
She was easily as strong as Aaron. Zack could only follow.
KATIE PULLED ZACK INTO the break room where he’d first met the TCI skaters and shut the door behind them. Zack braced himself; he could think of only one reason Katie would want to talk to him like this: Aaron. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten the shovel talk, but he didn’t think this time was going to be any more fun than any of the others.
“I told him this, and I’ll tell you,” Katie said briskly. “What Aaron does on his own time is his business, even if I have opinions.”
“Does Brendan have opinions?” Zack asked. If this was going to happen, he might as well know where every potentially involved party stood.
“You mean, what does the more rational, easygoing man think?” Katie said sharply.
“Oh. Fuck. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry,” Zack said, chagrined at his own inadvertent sexism.
“Thank you.” Katie gave him a stare he could feel himself wilting under. “Brendan is too nice to have opinions. And look, everyone needs a life off the ice. I understand and support that. But Aaron is a competitive figure skater and he needs to get through this season without getting injured.�
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“Did I hurt him?” Zack felt a lurch of horror. That wasn’t the kind of kink he was into, and pain had never been any part of his intent with Aaron.
Katie shook her head sharply, but Zack’s relief was short lived. “You did not, and there are any number of details I don’t need. What you need to know is that he was so distracted during our session today that he kept falling over. On stuff he never falls on. Camp is coming up soon and he’s going to have to show off his programs for the federation for their approval. I don’t want him tempting fate, and I don’t think you understand the problem your photographs present.”
Zack could feel his brain catching up with her words and screeching to an abrupt halt before it slammed into the inside of his skull. “Oh,” he said foolishly.
“Yes. Oh.” Katie’s tone was mocking.
“I’m...sorry?” Zack knew this was a thing he needed to bring up with Aaron eventually. He just hadn’t thought he needed to, and admittedly hadn’t wanted to, last night.
“You’re not; he’s not; and neither of you have a responsibility to me regarding this in any case,” Katie said. “Believe me, I want to be having this conversation less than you do, so I’ll keep it to the point. I’m not telling you to not date him, or....” She trailed off with a wave of a hand and a pained look. “But I am telling you not to distract him. Whatever that means to you two. Which probably includes him not getting any more surprises via google.”
“Oh yeah. It’s not a thing you casually mention, you know?”
“You’re the one who put the pics with your name on the internet. It’s definitely the sort of thing you casually mention.”
Ashamed, Zack stared at his feet. All the time he’d been focusing on whether introducing Aaron to bondage was too much of a distraction, he never considered how his own projects—and his failure to talk about them—might be even more of an issue. “Yeah. That’s fair.”