by Magan Vernon
Gathering some courage, I poured the rest of the bottle in his glass. “I don’t even know what I have on my phone. Nothing exciting. No 1980s scrunchies or poufy sleeved leotards.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’ve got something. Now show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
I took a big gulp of my drink which was sweet like candy at first then burned all the way down my throat, even though I was about to choke on it from his statement. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find,” I managed to cough out.
He laughed, shaking his head and pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiping the screen a few times before he faced it to me. My eyes widened as I looked not only at Blake a few years younger with a bright, blonde Mohawk but the striking brunette with the evil smirk next to him.
“You know Alexis Roy?” I asked, trying to keep my cool, but it was hard to when I was pretty tipsy and staring at a picture of my skating rival and the guy I was currently fantasizing about in my head had his arm around her.
Blake pulled the phone back and looked at the picture, blinking a few times before sliding his phone into his pocket. “Oh, yeah, guess I didn’t see her there. It’s a small community; I guess you can say. Well, a big, small community. Her family likes to go to my family’s ski resort, and we run in the same circles,” he said, his eyes darting everywhere but my direction as if he was afraid she’d hop out from behind one of the wooden pillars.
I had a feeling that there was more to the story with her and maybe I’d get it out of him after a few drinks. Or if I found an embarrassing picture to share. I pulled out my phone and opened my photos app. Before I could even scroll through, Blake’s rough hands were on the screen, yanking my phone.
“Hey!” I said, reaching for the phone, but he pulled back, swiping his fingers on the screen.
He laughed. “I knew you’d probably find the best picture you could, so I had to look for myself, and I think we have a winner.”
The grin broadened on his face, making that dimple stand out as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip and I felt my cheeks grow even hotter from the sudden movement of his mouth. “I didn’t take you for a cowgirl.”
I grabbed my phone, to keep my attention and thoughts elsewhere than his tongue. I stared at the picture he was looking at. It was a black and white screenshot of a photo from the local newspaper. One of Becca and I as kids on the farm in our matching overalls and braids next to the cows and pictured next to that was a more recent photo of both of us in Team USA sweaters on the ice.
“My parents are dairy farmers in Wisconsin,” I quipped, sliding my phone into my pocket.
“No shit? What’s that like?” he asked, taking a gulp of his drink.
I shrugged. “Normal? I guess. We grew up with a lot of chores and snow, so, of course, we got into winter sports, and eventually, my folks saved up the money to send me to train in Lake Placid and the rest is history.”
There was more to it than that. Like the fact that my parents had to save forever just to get Becca and I both into elite skating clubs and when I got too good for those, I begged to be sent to Lake Placid and be homeschooled from there when I turned fourteen. It took a lot for my conservative parents, who’d never left the state, to send their oldest daughter away, but I never forgot that generosity. After my first Games, and sponsorships came along, I did everything to make sure they and Becca were comfortable, including paying for Becca’s college, and new milking equipment for the farm. I just wished I could always do more.
“What about your family? Becca and I checked out your Wikipedia page. Skiing parents and a reality TV show,” I blurted out, before even thinking what I was saying.
He rolled his eyes. “More like a couple of guest spots on a YouTube channel. Don’t compare me to your American socialites.”
“None of them have dreadlocks. At least that I’m aware of. Are those even real or are they made of like nylon or something?” I asked, everything coming out like word vomit, which was better than actual vomit that was threatening to curdle in my stomach.
“You wanna feel them and see?” he asked, that smirk spreading into a grin, baring a set of teeth that were whiter than the snow on the mountains of Pyeongchang.
“Oh, I don’t think I could do that,” I said, taking the tiniest sip of my drink to have something to focus on other than his smile.
I gasped as his hand snapped across the table and was on mine, pulling it to his hair. “Go on, feel it.”
My eyes widened at his brashness before I sat my drink down, a few drops spilling over the edges and concentrated on the feel of his hair between my fingers. It was a giant tangle, rough yet somehow intricate and well-worn like the ice before the Zamboni got to it.
“Now lemme feel your hair,” he slurred, his rough hand reaching for my head. I thought he was going to yank the blonde out of my hair, but instead, he pushed a tiny fallen strand behind my ear, his fingers grazing on my lobe before trailing down my jawline.
A tingling sensation started from my toes and went all the way up my stomach until a flush went to my cheeks, making me crinkle my nose.
It had been a long time since I’d been touched by a man, aside from Logan in the rink or Coach Donahue when he was trying to teach us a new move. There wasn’t time for romance. The only thing I ever had close to it was my former partner who I lost my virginity to in the locker room then found out he was actually in a serious relationship. Not just in a serious relationship, but practically engaged to a girl back in Britain. I found that out via social media. I told Coach I didn’t want him as a partner and didn’t give a reason. Since I was his golden goose, as he said, he found Logan without question and together we went to the Sochi Games in 2014, of course getting gold.
But none of that, the gold, men, none of that compared to that moment, staring into Blake’s blue eyes and dimpled smile, wondering if maybe a one-night fling at the Olympics wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“Hey, Tremblay, we’re gonna head back to the village. You coming?” A Canadian accent knocked me out of my stare with Blake, and I pulled back, his hand dropping from my face before I pulled the drink to my lips, downing the rest. I was in a trance just from his looks. I never got distracted. I was always on point, but there was something about him that had me captivated.
Blake looked at the guy, whose name escaped me then glanced back to me, raising an eyebrow. “I think Kelly and I are going to get another bottle of Soju, but I’ll see you back there in a bit. Cool?”
The guys with him gave each other huge smiles then laughed, fist bumping Blake. “All right, man. We’ll see you later.”
As soon as they left, Blake turned back to me, and the smile fell from his face as he nodded at me. “I think your party’s ready to leave too.”
I whirled around to see Becca and Logan standing there with a few of Becca’s teammates. “Hey, thank God we finally found you. Thought you might have gotten lost or snuck away to get a few more hours in of skating and already be passed out in the room.”
I forced a smile. I wasn’t exactly thankful for the interruption or for her assuming I’d be asleep, though I was pretty sure it was past my usual nine pm bedtime. “Thanks, but Blake and I were just about to order another drink. So, I’ll see you guys back at the village later?”
Logan raised an eyebrow and looked at Becca then back to me. “Are you sure about that?”
“What? Like he’s some Canadian serial killer who is going to lure me away and string me up in the market? I don’t think he would do that just because Canadian’s pairs team is subpar. Unless you would?” I asked, turning toward Blake, realizing I was still a little dizzy and still very tipsy, but had to give myself an inner pat on the back for getting another dig in at Alexis.
He laughed and signaled to the waitress for another bottle. “I promise she’ll make it back home. No need to worry about stringing her in the meat market or jeopardizing The Games.”
I looked back at my sister and Logan who frowned at each other. Becc
a sighed. “Okay, fine, but if I find out he did anything you didn’t want him too, I know a guy back home who said the hogs will eat anything.” Becca looked past me at Blake and enunciated her words, “A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G.”
The cork of the bottle opened and I turned to see Blake smiling as he poured my drink. “Don’t worry, Bex. I got her.”
Oh, he sure did.
***
“I think it’s about time we head back,” I said, nodding my head behind Blake at the woman who had been serving us drinks all night. Instead of waiting on tables, she was sweeping. I guess that would have had to be the case since we were the only table left in the place.
Blake had polished off another bottle of Soju, and I was still sipping on the same glass since my sister and Logan left.
“Head back to your place?” Blake asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
When I was still tipsy an hour ago, I found him charming, now with his slurring words, it was a bit annoying, and I just wanted to go home.
“I’ll go to my place, and you go to your own. Come on. I’ll call us a cab or an Uber,” I said, pulling my phone out of the pocket of my jeans.
Blake put his hand on my on top of the phone, and I looked up, meeting his smile. Even tipsy he was still sexy as hell, and I couldn’t help but give him my full attention. “Why don’t we walk back? It’s a beautiful night. Look at all of the stars. I’ve never seen the stars on this side of the world. It’s like everyone here is looking at a completely different set than we are. Isn’t that crazy? There are millions of stars out there, and we only see a few of them,” Blake said, staring up at the sky.
“Come on, drunky, let’s get you back to the village,” I said, pulling my phone back and pulling up the Uber app. “The guy should be here in a few minutes. His name is Hyun-Gi, and he’s driving a silver Hyundai,” I said, squinting at the name and car. At least I had sobered up enough to read clearly and think. If I had finished that bottle of Soju with Blake, I might not have been.
Blake put his arm around my shoulders. Even through all of the alcohol I could still smell the cedar scent of his hair oils as his dreadlocks fell over my shoulder. “Haaa Annnn Jeeee better not steal my girl,” Blake said with a laugh, butchering the driver’s name.
“Your girl? I don’t think a few drinks qualifies me as your girl. And who even says that anymore? That sounds like something out of a bad movie, or a boy band song.” I wrinkled my nose.
Blake laughed even harder. “Fine. Wanna be my Games girlfriend? It’s like a regular girlfriend, but I get to fuck you while wearing my medals.”
I gasped as soon as the words exited his lips. I’d never had a guy use words like that around me or so brash. I didn’t have the typical college experience like most girls, and there weren’t a lot of rowdy guys around, except when they came to train. Even then they didn’t talk to me like Blake did. No man ever did.
The silver Hyundai pulled up just in time. I was afraid if Blake looked at me, or leaned into me any further I might have let him kiss me or do whatever else he wanted with his medals. Instead, I approached the car and opened the back door.
Blake put his free hand out. “After you, Games girlfriend.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s still a horrible name.”
When we got in the car and buckled in, Blake leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear lobe. “You won’t be saying that when I have that tight little body unwound, and you’ll be screaming my name,” he whispered before he slightly nibbled my earlobe.
A fire lit within me. Not just from the alcohol or from The Games, but Blake Tremblay was turning me on like I never thought before. But I couldn’t let him become a distraction. It was just one night of drinking. One night away from practice and that was it.
“So, your place or mine?” he whispered, his hand moving in small circles on my lower back.
“Both. I go to my place, and you go to yours,” I said, staring straight ahead instead of into his blue eyes.
He squeezed my side. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter 3
Blake
The harsh itch of carpet burn scraped my cheeks, waking me out of my sleep. Or, sort of woke me up at least. The sun streaming in through the curtains was too bright for me to open my eyes.
“Shiiiiitttt,” I drew out, my throat dry as I slowly sat up. My head was pounding, and all I could think about was how bad I needed a drink of water and a shit-ton of Tylenol.
I was still in my clothes from the night before and almost forgot where I was until I saw the beige carpet of the Olympic village dorms. The same carpet they had in the lobby and boasted about on the tour my parents made me take when they tried to convince me I needed to stay there.
How the hell did I end up in the dorms? And on the floor? Did I win the bet? If so, why the hell was I still in my clothes? Shit that Soju was strong and the last thing I remembered was getting in a cab with Kelly. I wanted to kiss her so damn bad, but she turned her cheek to me. And that was all I could remember. There had to be something, though, or else why was I here. Unless I ended up in someone else’s room…
“You’re awake!” A soft voice gasped.
Slowly I turned in the direction of two twin beds. In the one closest to the wall sat Kelly Johnson with her perfect blonde hair tucked into a bun and a clean blue tracksuit on. Even though the beds were small as hell, she looked even tinier, sitting there with her knees to her chest and her eyes wide.
“Damn, that sugary stuff knocked me out. I don’t even remember coming back here…” I slowly went to a standing position, cracking my back muscles in the process. I was getting too old for this all-night drinking shit. Come to think of it, since I started training harder for The Games a year ago I couldn’t remember the last time I drank. Explains why I was knocked out so hard.
“Did we…?” I asked, looking for any sign that I was still wearing a condom and would need to flush that ASAP.
She shook her head fiercely. “Oh no. By the time we finished that last bottle and left the bar, you passed out in the Uber. I didn’t know where your room was so I brought you here, and you seemed pretty comfortable on the floor. You snore, though.”
I laughed slightly then stopped, rolling out my shoulders. Damn that hurt even to laugh. I was going to surely get my ass kicked on the slopes today with practice. I guess this supposed luxury carpet wasn’t as great as the tour guide boasted. “You just let me sleep it off? What about your roommate? Shit, I have to look like an ass.”
Kelly pursed her lips. “My sister is my roommate, and she was up early to get to the rink. She didn’t ask what you were doing on the floor, but I’m sure I’ll get an earful after the opening ceremonies tonight.”
“Fuuuu,” I stopped and shook my head, trying to stop the pounding. “I forgot about those.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow. “You forgot about the opening ceremonies? The entire reason we’re here?”
I laughed slightly. How could I forget? My first opening ceremonies and my parents wouldn’t stop talking about it. Or how different it was in their day when no one had smart phones and could actually watch the ceremonies instead of tweeting it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they found a way to sneak in and carry the Canadian flag themselves instead of the Refugee bobsledder who was elected. “Yeah. I think I just had a brain fart. Blame the soju. Speaking of that, I’m hungover as hell, want to get some McDonalds? My treat. We can call it a breakfast date.”
“Um, McDonald's doesn’t sound appetizing, and I need to get to practice. We only have so much time on the ice today that isn’t shared with every other country,” she said, her words trailing as she finally stood up but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine, they just stayed on the floor, taking tiny steps toward the foot of the bed.
I grabbed her hand before she could walk past me and there was a jolt of electricity. Not static electricity but a warm tingle that I usually didn’t get just from holding some girl’s hand. I had the same surge last night when she let me tuck her hair be
hind her ear. It may have started as a bet to get in the skater’s panties, but part of me was glad I hadn’t gotten that far with her. It meant I got to spend more time with the girl who cared enough to take a drunken Canadian snowboarder home and let him pass out without alerting the media.
“Thanks for taking care of me last night, Kelly. It’s been a while since anyone’s done that for me. If it were one of the guys, he would have probably left me for dead.” I laughed it off but stopped when she smiled softly.
“It was nothing, really,” she whispered, catching her teeth in her bottom lip and damn if that little bite didn’t cause that surge of electricity to go straight below my belt.
I leaned in, fully realizing that after a night of drinking I probably smelled like ass and my breath was like a swamp donkey. So instead of trying to do what I really wanted to do to this girl, I put my hand on her hip and let my lips graze her cheek. “No really, thanks,” I whispered.
Before she could say anything back, I let go of her side and turned to the door, getting out as quickly as I could then let out a deep breath.
This was only a bet. That’s what I had to keep telling myself, even though after spending just one night, not even sleeping with the chick, and I was starting to wonder if I wanted to win because it was a bet, or because I liked this girl.
***
Even though The Games didn’t officially begin until after the opening ceremony, snowboarding and other sports had qualifying runs that morning.
After grabbing a quick shower, I called an Uber and headed out to the mountain with coffee and a burrito in hand. My head was still pounding and not just because of the hangover, but because I couldn’t get my mind off the blonde figure skater. Which wasn’t going to help my situation, since I was about to meet up with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum who I was sure would bring up the bet right away.