by Adele Hart
“Did I peak over the last few days and now I’m over?” My stomach tightens at the thought.
“No, hon, I’m pretty sure today is just a glitch. It’s the stress of having your parents show up and them finding you with Clint.”
I bury my red face in my hands. “Oh, God. That could not have gone worse.”
“Well, they could have walked in and gotten an eyeful of him going for a muff dive.”
I burst out laughing and Tasha laughs along.
When the moment passes, she says, “Your parents are really great people. They love you to bits, but you know what? They also put even more pressure on you than any of the other parents. I have a feeling that you did better when they weren’t here because you could put some distance between yourself and all that guilt they pile on you.”
My shoulders drop and I sit on the bench feeling suddenly numb.
“I don’t mean to be a bitch about your mom and dad. I know they’ve given up a lot for you, but anyone would crumble under the weight of that pressure.”
“Yeah, I guess maybe that’s it. But I can’t ask them to stay away during the games. It would kill them.”
“They want you to win, no matter what it takes.”
“I’d never tell them to go home. I just couldn’t.”
“Then you need to accept the fact that they sacrificed for you because they wanted to do it, not because you made them. They wanted this for you so they made it happen. You can’t spend your life feeling guilty for something they chose for you when you were four-years-old. Your only shot at winning is to unload that burden when you strap on those skates.”
That night, I lay in bed next to Clint, and we just talk. We talk for hours about my parents and all the guilt I feel for what they’ve done for me. We talk about what it would mean to win the gold and what life will really be like after I’ve achieved my biggest dream. Clint has gone ahead in this way and he knows what it’s like to go from having nothing to having nothing to worry about. He opens up and tells me about his childhood. He was raised by his mom, his dad having disappeared shortly after he was born. His mom, who was a baker, left for work at three in the morning so he had to get used to getting up on his own and getting himself to school, even as a little boy. When he started playing hockey, he had to figure out how to use the city transit system and had to drag his hockey equipment twelve blocks so he could catch a bus to practice.
As I listen, I realize that I don’t know the first thing about hardship. I’ve always had two parents who loved me more than anything. I never once had to get myself ready for school alone or come home to an empty house. One of them was always there.
It’s almost morning by the time we drift off to sleep and even though I’m exhausted, I’m somehow renewed. I know that I’m going to be okay and that I’ve always had what it takes. I just didn’t believe it.
It’s the morning of the short program. The stadium is packed with spectators when Clint and I arrive. The building that once echoed with the odd sound of one person’s voice now thunders with applause for the ice dancing pairs that are finishing up.
I take a deep breath when I spot my parents, who I’ve asked to meet me by the east entrance. They still haven’t forgiven Clint or given us their approval, but they will by the time the games are over. I give them a firm nod, then say, “Mom, Dad, I’m going to win today, and when I do, you’re going to have to admit that Clint is what I said he is—the right one for me.”
“Today has nothing to do with him. This is about you, Pumpkin,” my dad says, his face filled with intensity.
“No, Dad. You’re wrong. You got me here, I know that. But Clint has shown me how to dig deep and find my true confidence. He has never doubted what I’m capable of, but you both do that to me all the time…”
My mom opens her mouth, but I stop her by holding my finger in the air.
“No, Mom. It’s true. Neither of you trust me to do this on my own. You both think I need a therapist or one of you hovering over me so I don’t screw up. But I don’t need help. There’s a champion in me and she’s bringing her A game today. Nothing is going to stop me. Nothing is going to distract me. I’m going to get out there and win. And when I do, you will accept Clint.”
With that, I give them each a hug, then kiss Clint right on the lips.
He smiles down at me and whispers, “You’ve got this. That gold is waiting for you.”
I walk away from the three of them, head held high, knowing he’s right.
I am the last to skate today, so when the song ends, I don’t have to wait to find out if I am a champion. I will find out in about one minute. I stand on the ice, panting as flowers are tossed onto the rink. The scores aren’t up yet, but I’m already crying tears of joy, because even if I don’t win, I’ve just completed a perfect program. I’ve never flown so high or been so graceful in my life as I was in the last two minutes. I landed every jump, I gave it everything I had, and for the first time, it was enough. I know it.
I skate around and pick up the bouquets, waving to the crowd before I step off and sit down next to my coach. It’s like everything is happening in slow motion as I hear my score being called out and I see them appear on the television screen in front of me. Pierre sits next to me, crying and laughing and shouting, “Gold! We did it!”
Tears spill out of my eyes and down my cheeks as I sob, exhausted and filled with joy. He hugs me and I hug him back, then pull away so I can stand and wave to my parents. They’re both crying and hugging each other and waving to me. I blow them kisses and then search for Clint. I realize that I don’t know where he is, and I start to feel a bit panicky because I can’t wait to celebrate with him. Then I hear his voice behind me.
“You did it, Dani. I’m so proud of you.”
I turn to him and throw my arms around him. We kiss wildly and he lifts me up in his arms. I know that the TV cameras must be broadcasting this back home and that this will be huge news, but I don’t even care. In fact, I’m thrilled about the world knowing he’s mine.
When he pulls back, I say, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“As much as I’d like to take credit, it was all you.”
That night, we go for dinner with my parents and the rest of the team to celebrate. Tasha won bronze, and Brooke got nothing, so she spends most of the evening pouting in the corner. Clint sits next to me, his hand on my thigh as we eat. My parents are so thrilled about my win that they’re actually talking to Clint and being nice which gives him the perfect opportunity to not only redeem himself, but to impress them with what a thoughtful and smart guy he is underneath that cocky façade.
When we leave the restaurant, we walk them back to their hotel. We stand outside the lobby for a moment and my dad turns to Clint and says, “I may have been wrong about you, Clint.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cruz. I totally understand why you were upset.”
“Call me, Tom.”
“Tom?” Clint stifles a laugh with what I’m pretty sure is everything he’s got.
My dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I know. The actor.”
My mom shudders in the cold night air. “We should let these two get some sleep. Clint has an important game tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. I was so excited about Dani’s win that I forgot we’re going to kick some Canadian butt tomorrow.” Clint squeezes my hand.
Later, as I climb into bed, I see a small black box sitting on my pillow. “What’s this?”
“It’s just a little something to seal the deal we made a week ago.” Clint, who was already in bed, props himself up on one arm and smiles at me.
“Is that your lame-ass way of proposing?” I give him a sassy look.
“No,” Clint, says, kissing me softly on the lips. “This is. Danika Cruz, I have never loved another woman the way I love you. I know it’s fast and it’s crazy, but I also know it’s right. Will you make me the happiest man on the planet and say yes to being my wife?”
I nod, tear
s filling my eyes. “I will,” is all I manage to say.
He kisses me long and deep and soon he’s inside me, our bodies moving together in the perfection that is us. The world floats away and I lose myself in his eyes and in the promise that tomorrow brings. When we come, this time it’s different. Our eyes are locked on each other and it’s full of a tender passion that makes me want to weep. Neither of us say anything about it, but we don’t bother with the condom this time and I know it’s because Clint wants to make this the start of our forever every bit as much as I do.
When it’s over, he finally opens the box and shows me the ring. It’s an enormous round diamond set in a band of diamonds.
“Wow. I gave the right answer,” I say, then try to contain my excitement while he slips the ring on my finger.
The flight home feels fast to me. That’s because I’m sitting next to my future husband. We both go home with gold medals, except I have two of them, so I get to tease him about only having half as many golds as me. We snuggle together in the seats and watch movies, then sleep wrapped in each other’s arms until we land at L.A.X.
We’ve already figured out that I’m going to move in with Clint, which should work out nicely, since Hunter is moving out, having found love with a reporter. My parents aren’t thrilled that I’ll be moving in with Clint, but I think they can see how perfect we are together and they’re starting to trust that he has the very best intentions when it comes to their little girl. Well, mostly…
Epilogue
Clint- Four Years Later
“I’ve got her.”
“No, I’ve got her,” Dani says, one hand on her hip and the other one hanging onto our daughter’s hand.
“Babe, if anyone’s going to teach Isabella to skate, it should be the captain of the Kings.”
“As opposed to a double gold medalist and two-time world champion figure skater?”
“No way do I want her figure skating. I want her to play hockey.”
“What’s wrong with figure skating?”
“The tiny outfits.” I shake my head. “No way. She’s going to be covered up from head to toe. Besides, you shouldn’t be skating in your condition.”
“Of course I should. The doctor says I’m perfectly fine to skate.”
“Mom, Dad,” Isabella says. “I kate with both of you, okay?”
Grinning down at her, I say, “Okay. Deal.”
“Deal,” says Dani.
I take Isabella’s other hand and we skate around the rink for a few minutes, then Dani breaks off and does a single axel. When she lands, she turns back to us and smiles down at Isabella.
Our daughter laughs with delight and says, “You do it, too, Daddy.”
Dani gives me a smug look and I shake my head at her, then pull her in for a kiss. “Show off.”
“Your turn, Daddy.”
“Daddy doesn’t do jumps and twirls, but I’ll tell you what? I’ll teach you the secret to the perfect slap shot.”
“No, thanks. I want to twirl.”
Dani bursts out laughing, then pats her small tummy. “You better hope this one’s a boy.”
“I still have time to work on this one. I’ll change her mind yet.”
That night when I finish getting Isabella to bed, I find Dani fast asleep on the couch. Pregnancy takes it out of her, in spite of how she pretends it’s no big deal. I shut the television off and carry her up the stairs to our bedroom, laying her down gently on her pillow. Covering her up, I kiss her on the head, then go take a shower.
When I come out, she’s fast asleep. I get under the covers with her and put my arm over her, then pull her in tight. After a few minutes of snuggling, she stirs, and presses her ass against my cock. I slide my hand between her legs and feel that she’s not wearing any panties under that nightie. My cock twitches with excitement as I feel how wet she is for me, even in her sleep. Dani turns her head toward me and I lean over and kiss her. She sighs and arches her back, giving me access. I slide inside her pussy, feeling how tight and wet she is against my bare skin, loving the feeling of her full breasts in my palm. I rock my hips, as our bodies move together, perfectly in sync with each other, just like we’ve always been and like we always will be. Our love may have gotten off to a fast start, but it’s the kind that will last a lifetime.
The End
Take Me-Sneak Peek
One
TABITHA
I have the greatest job ever. Which is odd because I’m the unluckiest girl in the world. Don’t believe me? In grade ten, I was on the debate team (yeah, I know, geek alert!), and I was on stage in front of the entire school, about to make my final speech about why plastic should be banned, when my shirt buttons decided to quit on me. I took a deep breath and ‘pop’! All of them. All at once. It was like they said, ‘Ready? Now!’ In front of twelve hundred kids.
Good thing I was wearing my oldest cotton bra that I had turned that sickly gray when I washed it with my black jeans the day before. It wasn’t even underwire, so I had that whole saggy boobs thing going on. That little incident earned me the nickname ‘Gray Boobs’. My last name is Gray, so that made it extra easy for the jerk who came up with it.
After that, I learned about the glories of good lingerie, which I had to hide from my super religious step-mom, Lorraine. She spent my teenage years telling me about the dangers of boys and sex and the diseases you can get from them. She’s so disgusted by the whole thing that I swear I don’t know if she’s ever had sex, even though she has three kids of her own. All boys. All dick-heads. Lorraine and her boys are the reason I’m still a virgin. Between the four of them, they managed to turn me off guys and sex right around the age when most girls are starting to get curious about those things.
My dad married her three months after my mom died. Told you I was unlucky. We lost Mom to type one diabetes when I was ten. My dad was working nights, so the two of us were having girls night in. She and I were going to snuggle up and watch Beauty and the Beast right after she had a quick shower. She kissed me on the top of my head and told me to work on my spelling until she came down. Twenty minutes later, I realized something was wrong and went up to find her. By then it was too late. She was already gone.
That’s when Lorraine swooped in and snapped up my dad. He was a cop. A good one. And a great dad. Generous, but careful enough with his money so that we had a pretty nice house and no debt. Lorraine and her boys moved in, all traces of my mom immediately disappeared, and I was suddenly part of our ‘new family’. Three years later, my dad died. He got shot trying to break up a domestic disturbance.
And that was that.
I was alone with Mother Mary, Huey, Dewey, and Ewey (the one who always had a finger jammed up his nose).
As soon as I finished high school, I packed my lacy unmentionables and got the hell out of Virginia for good. Gray Boobs has left the building. I went to Washington University where I got my degree in economics, then managed to score my new job. I work for Theo Breckenridge—you know the one—the man who owns half of the western seaboard, the airline bearing his name, and most of the skyscrapers in downtown Seattle.
Mr. Breckenridge put an ad in the newspaper (seriously, the freaking newspaper) looking for a ‘bright, fun assistant’ and I answered it. It had nothing to do with my degree, but after six months of trying to find work and discovering that an economics degree is basically useless in the real world, I was willing to do just about anything to avoid going home again.
I’ve been working for him for almost a year now, and it’s been incredible. First of all, it pays well as far as assistant jobs go. But it’s the perks that really make it amazing. Mr. Breckenridge is eighty-five years young, and he’s trying to decide which charities get his billions. I know that sounds kind of sad, but it’s not. First, he’s super healthy and with it, so it could be another decade (or even two) before he says his final farewell. Second, he’s so happy that it’s impossible not to feel good when you’re around him. He’s a bit of a dirty old m
an, and he makes passes at me here and there, things like, ‘would you like me to share my endowment with you, Tabitha? It’s very generous.’ Wink, wink. It doesn’t bother me though because he’s harmless, and he’s only joking.
Besides, it’s kind of flattering in a weird way. This is probably because other than my ancient boss, I’m not exactly popular with the men folk. I’m pretty average looking—I’m a curvy, short girl with auburn, naturally curly hair that has to be kept at chin-length or it goes hog wild. I’m also super awkward around men and end up tripping over my own foot or spilling soup all over my lap. This actually happened once on a blind date. Tomato soup. Date over.
Anyway, I’m sure I could do better with them if I weren’t so awkward. But I am, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to change it.
Okay, back to the perks. I get to travel the world checking out organizations that apply for his grants. I examine ten charities per year and Mr. B chooses one that gets the big money. And I mean big, like with eight zeros at the end of a two.
Because of this, everywhere I go, I get wined and dined by desperate people who would rub my feet if I asked (which I would never do because I’m not a total hag, and also my feet are super ticklish). They show me around, I carefully go through their books and create a report for Mr. Breckenridge.
So far in the past year, I’ve been to Japan, France, Slovenia (which is beautiful, by the way, and you should totally go), Iceland (amazing!), Peru, and Canada. (Side note: It’s true that Canadians are always super nice except for when they’re in line for double-doubles at Tim Horton’s and they’re late for work and you are at the front of that line asking too many questions, like, ‘what’s a double-double?’. Turns out it’s a coffee with two creams and two sugars.)