He showed me the empty white heart on the back of the doll, and he pulled two markers from his pocket. “I got blue and green so it can have both our eye colors.”
I placed the doll on my palm and ran my thumb over the blank spaces for the eyes. I’d had so much bad juju when it came to making the Olympic team in the past. It couldn’t hurt to add whatever good luck symbols we could find.
“What happens if we don’t—”
Josh touched his finger to my lips. “Only positive thoughts.”
I smiled, and he traced the curve of my mouth. “Which color should we use first?”
“Your choice, my love.”
I surveyed them and selected the blue marker. “Do we have to say our goal out loud?”
“I don’t think there’s an official ritual, but that would be cool.”
“Let’s hold it together so we can both get the good luck vibes.”
We wrapped our hands around the doll, and I started, “Our goal is to skate—“
“At the 2014 Olympics together,” Josh echoed me.
We laughed at our unison, perfected from doing countless interviews the past few years.
“Ready to paint?” Josh asked.
I set the tip of the marker to the right eye, and Josh covered my hand with his. We swirled the pen together, painting a solid blue pupil. I capped the marker, and Josh set the doll on his thigh.
“We can bring it to Boston with us,” he said.
“And this, too.” I picked up the green marker.
Josh beamed at me. “Positive thinking. I love it.”
I looked down at the sorta creepy-looking Daruma. The idea of skating at the Olympics with Josh was motivation enough, but now I had an extra motivation to do well in Boston. We had to make the team because the last thing I wanted was a one-eyed doll haunting me the rest of my life.
Chapter Two
I TOOK A LONG INHALE OF the cold rink air and exhaled as I stretched my leg atop the boards. Josh and I had checked into the headquarters hotel in the Seaport area of Boston the previous afternoon and were about to begin our first practice. With the main arena still being set up for the event, we were practicing at the Skating Club of Boston, one of the secondary rinks for the week. The small venue should have made me feel at ease, like it was just another training day at home, but the volunteers wearing championship gear reminded me it was no ordinary day. The butterflies in my stomach had already started their wild party.
I switched to doing squats behind the boards, and Josh’s black skates walked up beside me. His neon orange blade guards gave him away.
“My mom is here?” he said.
I popped up and followed his eyes to the bleachers. Mrs. Tucker was slowly climbing in her stiletto boots to a spot beside our agent Kristin. She looked down at the bench and wrinkled her nose before wiping it with a tissue. God forbid she get a speck of dirt on her coat. Although, it had probably cost three thousand dollars.
“I can’t believe she schlepped all the way out here for practice after getting in so late last night,” I said.
“She had to be here in case there are any TV cameras,” Josh said.
I let out a dry laugh. Josh’s parents had been opposed to our partnership from the beginning because they wanted him to go to law school and join the family practice in Beverly Hills. They also hadn’t been fans of our relationship since I wasn’t the rich California girl they desired for their son.
All that had magically changed, though, once Josh and I won the national title and were hyped as Olympic hopefuls. Mrs. Tucker had become very interested in inserting herself into our limelight. She was all about us making the Olympic team and giving publicity to her family. Despite her new interest in us, I was pretty sure her feelings toward me hadn’t changed. I still felt her contempt whenever she looked at me.
“Poor Kristin,” I said. “Your mom’s probably giving her an earful about sponsorships she thinks we should have.”
“Steph needs to get here and run interference,” Josh said.
His sister and I weren’t besties, but we’d evolved from enemies into an amicable relationship. Since she was doing a fashion design internship in Los Angeles, she wouldn’t be arriving in Boston until the morning of our short program. That left two whole days for Mrs. Tucker to bother us uninterrupted.
The other three teams in our practice group inched closer to the boards, hinting we were moments from the start of the session. On cue, the announcer called all our names, and we left our skate guards with our coaches and took off across the ice.
Josh and I locked hands and sped into identical back crossovers, leaving a stiff breeze in our wake. With all the cool, difficult moves we could do, I still loved doing simple crossovers with Josh the best. We were one entity flying over the ice with just a few powerful strokes, and Josh always kept his eyes on mine, ensuring we were connected in every way.
After we finished warming up, we practiced side-by-side double jumps instead of our standard triples to establish our timing. Usually a double felt loose and easy, but my legs were tight, and having Mrs. Tucker in my sight line didn’t help. That woman always unnerved me with her critical stares.
While the program music played for the first team in the group, Josh and I did a few lifts and kept ourselves fresh for our own short program run-through. As the other pair took their bows, we applauded them and then settled into our opening pose. Josh stood behind me, and we faced the smattering of spectators in the bleachers. I could feel Mrs. Tucker’s cold glare on me, so I shut my eyes to get into character for the program.
Our flamenco-inspired music began, and Josh slid his hand up my arm, matching the mood of the sensual guitar. We turned to skate eye to eye and moved swiftly across the ice into our first element, the triple twist. I spun quickly in the air and landed neatly in Josh’s hands, right on the staccato beat. The twist had always been one of our strongest elements. Any trouble we had usually came on the side-by-side jumps, which were coming up next.
We curved toward the boards, and my legs tightened with nerves again. I pushed off my back inside edge and spun three times, but I was so tilted in the air. I came down hard on my hip, and the wet ice soaked my tights. Josh stood tall next to me, having done the triple Salchow cleanly, and I hurried to sync up our strokes.
Josh squeezed my hand, his little sign of encouragement, but I still felt unsteady as we began our intricate footwork sequence. My blades weren’t hugging the ice like they should, so I decided to put more oomph into my steps.
And down I went.
That time my butt took the brunt of my fall. Josh kept going while I scrambled to my feet to resume the straight-line pattern. When we came together at the end of the rink, he squeezed my hand again and said, “Just breathe.”
We slowed our pace before the throw triple flip, but I still botched the landing, putting my hand on the ice to balance myself. When we struck our ending pose, I noticed the judges who’d come to watch practice whispering to each other. They were probably saying, “Not exactly Olympic material.”
Josh put his arm around my waist, and we skated over to Em and Sergei at the boards. They gave me technical instruction to apply to my Salchow, and I set off to do the jump on my own. I skated around the team doing their run-through and set up for the take-off. Again I was crooked in the air and came down with my arms and legs flailing. My body just wouldn’t do what I knew it could. What it had done a million times.
I made two more shaky passes at the jump before Em and Sergei gave me a pep talk and told me to move on to another task. Josh and I did small sections of our long program and wrapped up the session with a two-minute cool down. I toweled the sweat from my face and downed my water as I watched the next group of pairs take the ice. Two of the top challengers for the Olympic team were in the group. I had my eyes trained on them until Mrs. Tucker rose from the bleachers and headed our way.
“We have to get outta here,” I told Josh as I stashed my water bottle and shoved my arms
in my jacket. “I can’t deal with your mom right now.”
“I’m right behind you.”
We had to cross Mrs. Tucker’s path to reach the door, so we race-walked as if we were late. I gave her a little wave and Josh said, “We need to get to the shuttle. We’ll catch up with you later.”
“You can’t talk to your mother for five minutes?” she said.
Oh, gimme a break. She’d barely spoken to Josh for three years and now she was pulling the mother card?
“The bus is leaving in a minute,” Josh called over his shoulder. “I’ll text you.”
During the ride to the hotel I popped in my earbuds and blasted the hardest rock songs on my phone. My goal was to flush the bad practice from my head, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how easily my technique had abandoned me.
Once we reached our room, I piddled between the closet and my suitcase for a few minutes before Josh came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.
“First practice jitters.” He massaged my neck. “That’s all it was.”
I hung the blouse I was holding and shut the closet door. “When Mark and I competed in our first nationals here, I had a horrible first practice then, too. Also at the Skating Club of Boston.”
“And you went on to skate great in the competition. You won a medal.”
“I wish we had another practice today. I want to get back out there and prove I can skate the way I know how.”
“The best thing to do is let go of what happened today and start new tomorrow. Don’t think about trying to prove anything.”
I nodded and looked at our Daruma on the nightstand, reminding myself to stay positive, but I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling I had. Josh must have seen the worry on my face.
“I know what you need to clear your mind,” he said.
He took his iPod from his bag and plugged it into the speakers we’d brought with us. With a few taps, Beyoncé’s sultry voice poured into the room.
“Let it all out.” He smiled.
I hesitated, not quite feeling it yet, and Josh shook his head.
“Don’t make me do Beyoncé’s part,” he said, proceeding to lip sync and gyrate his hips Queen B style.
I burst into laughter. “That is so wrong.”
“Then you better take the lead.” He tapped the iPod. “I’ll start the song over.”
He turned up the volume, and I felt the bass in my chest. I started off with a subdued performance, but as the song grew in power so did my energy. I tore the rubber band from my ponytail and whipped my hair over my shoulders as I danced my way closer to Josh. The intense way he watched me gave me an added thrill. I leaned into him and rubbed my hands over his T-shirt while silently belting out how drunk in love I was with him.
When Jay-Z began his rap solo, Josh took over, not missing a beat, and I clenched his shirt in my fists. He had to be the least gangsta person on the planet, but he totally pulled off the rap and looked damn sexy doing it.
The song returned to me, and I threw my head back and gave my best lip-synched wail. Josh put his arms around me and crushed our hips together, and we swayed as one for the rest of the song. After the last note, I stood on my toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“You were right,” I said as I slipped out of his arms. “That was exactly what I needed.”
“Where you going?” Josh reached out to me.
I smiled at him and fiddled with the thermostat. “It’s kinda hot in here now.”
“You want to cool down?”
Before I could turn around, Josh had dropped ice down the back of my tank top. I gasped at the cold burn on my spine and pulled on my shirt to let the cubes fall to the carpet. Josh laughed, and I sized him up.
“You look a little overheated, too.” I grabbed a handful of ice from the bucket and tugged on the front of Josh’s pants.
“Don’t even—“ He seized my wrist, but I wriggled free and held the ice behind my back.
“You gonna give it up?” He grinned and held out his palm.
I narrowed my eyes with determination. “Make me.”
He lunged for me, and I shrieked and fell onto the bed. I kept my hands pinned under my back as Josh spread his on the blanket and hovered over me.
“Are you ready to surrender?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He bent his elbows, lowering his long, lean body achingly close to mine. His mouth stayed just out of reach.
“I know all your weak spots,” he said, his eyes trailing over me.
My body hummed with anticipation. He angled closer and teased my jaw with feather-light kisses, and I knew exactly where he was headed. He hadn’t shaved before practice, and the scrape of his stubble excited my skin. It reminded me of the kisses he gave me in the morning just after waking up.
His lips found my earlobe, and he caught it softly between his teeth. I arched toward him and swallowed the whimper in my throat.
That’s one spot.
While his mouth caressed my neck, his hand pushed up my shirt, exposing my stomach. He snaked his fingers over my abs and down to my navel, swirling in a gentle circle. My skin prickled with delight, and the rest of me burned with need. The ice had completely melted in my palm.
I freed my hands and pulled Josh’s head to my mouth, slicking his hair with my wet fingers. His tongue dove between my lips, and he groaned as I wrapped one leg around him, pressing our bodies together.
Above the music came a loud rap on the door. I looked in its direction, but Josh nipped on my other earlobe, bringing me back to my happy place.
“Ignore it,” he murmured.
The knocking only grew longer and louder, and I couldn’t shut it out.
“It might be Em or Sergei,” I said, untangling myself from Josh.
He flopped onto his back with a heavy sigh, and I pulled my shirt down and went to answer the door. When I came face to face with Mrs. Tucker, I gave myself a mental kick for not listening to Josh.
“Are you having a party in here?” She marched past me into the room and turned off the iPod. “I don’t think you have anything to celebrate after that practice.”
I stiffened and balled my hands at my sides. She had no right to comment on our skating… on anything in our lives. Not after the way she’d treated us for three years.
“I said I’d text you,” Josh said.
“I didn’t want to wait.”
Shocking. Bethany Tucker was the world’s expert on being selfish.
“What’s so urgent?” Josh asked.
“I’d like to take Courtney shopping for a dress for the Olympic team dinner. There are some excellent boutiques on Newbury Street.”
I bit my lip to contain my laughter. I couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating than shopping with Josh’s mom. In what universe would I want to try on clothes for her and listen to her criticize my appearance?
“Thank you, but I already have a dress,” I said. “In case I need it.”
“You’d better need it.” She shot me a razor-sharp glare, and a cold chill blanketed me.
“Was that all you wanted?” Josh took a step toward the door.
Mrs. Tucker didn’t take his hint. “You can’t wear a dress you bought at the Cape Cod mall to an event this important. The photos taken there will be seen around the world.”
My face flamed with anger. She was never going to stop belittling me. Never.
“It doesn’t matter where I got the dress. All that matters is I love it.”
I matched her icy stare, and she lifted her pointy chin to peer down at me.
“Well… then I guess I’ll see you both at dinner tonight. Kristin is going to join us. There are some new opportunities I want her to explore for you.”
“I have plans with my mom,” I said.
“Can’t you change them?”
“No, I can’t. We’ve been so busy that I haven’t seen her much lately. We want to have a quiet dinner before the competition starts.”
She not-so-discreetly huffed. “I’ll have the concierge make the reservation for three then.”
Josh gave me a pained look, and I suspected I’d have to make this up to him in a big way. After his mom finally left, he spread his arms wide.
“Every man for himself?” he said.
“You should’ve made up something to get out of it.”
“You could’ve told her we had plans together.”
“I’m sorry. I was just so happy to have an excuse that it came out before I could think.”
He pointed his finger to my breastbone. “You owe me.”
“I know.” I framed his face with my hands. “You are the best boyfriend and partner ever for taking one for the team.”
He pulled me close. “So, how are you planning to make it up to your amazing boyfriend and partner?”
“Hmm…” I spotted the ice bucket and picked up a few cubes. “How about I let you use this any way you’d like?”
I smiled, and he lifted his eyebrows and broke into a devilish grin. Scooping me up with one arm, he carried both me and the bucket to the bed. When we’d melted every last piece, I rolled onto Josh’s damp chest and laughed as I almost slid off.
“I’ve been around ice my whole life, and I can say this with absolute certainty. It has never felt that good.”
Chapter Three
THE TAXI CRAWLED THROUGH RUSH HOUR traffic on Beacon Street, so I typed a quick text to Mom that I would be a few minutes late for dinner. A few minutes turned into twenty by the time I reached Panificio on Charles Street. I paid the driver and stepped carefully between the mounds of snow piled along the curb.
Inside the cozy bistro, Mom sat at a table near the windows. She gave me a warm smile that matched the feel of the room. I took off my coat, and Mom stood to greet me with a hug.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said.
“I should’ve met you at the hotel restaurant instead of making you fight traffic.”
Taking the Ice (Ice Series Book 3) Page 2