by Janae Keyes
Before I turned off my tablet, there was a final photo of Max. It was from GQ magazine. I was an entire spread of photos actually. He was completely naked, flexing, and posing with hockey gear that covered him in all the right places. I could see his tattoos; each arm had a sleeve of them. His muscles bulged on his arms and his chest and abs were ripped. His eyes were filled with intensity that shook me.
My breathing became shallow. Anxiously, I shut my tablet down. Having an attraction to a guy like that was foreign to me. I liked some muscles and nice abs like the next girl, but his personality was full of shit, and normally, that was a turnoff. Yet, I couldn’t turn myself off no matter how hard I tried.
Lucky for me, exhaustion eventually took me, and I woke up to a new morning…my first morning at the Willows Center.
Mom had sent me a text asking how my night was. We’d been forced to say our goodbyes after I saw the doctor, and then she was off, heading home to California.
My mom wasn’t just my parent or manager. She was also my best friend. She’d been with me every step of the way. Unlike my dad, he’d left us when I was two without a word. Mom woke up one morning to all his things gone; not one trace of him left behind. Despite her struggle to raise me on her own, she did it with poise I could never truly comprehend.
I got ready for my day as best I could alone with my bad ankle, and I was just on time as the shuttle approached.
The center had everything one could imagine. There wasn’t much of a reason to leave the campus although we’d been informed there were a few restaurants, shops, and a bar in town. There was also a grocery store that the main shuttle van made daily trips to for any of the athletes that wanted to pick up a few things.
Stepping into the freezing cold of Colorado, I used my crutches to get to the shuttle that was waiting on the main path. A staff member was there to help me aboard and take me toward the main center.
My favorite part was the snow-covered landscape. Everything was beautiful in a tranquil way. It didn’t feel like I was in a hospital or some stuffy rehab. Instead, it was almost like I was at a spa, which was much better than being at the previously mentioned places. I was so over hospitals. All my time in and out for my surgeries had made me resent them.
“Good morning, Ms. Crestwood,” a staff member greeted me as soon as I departed the shuttle. “Breakfast is ready inside of the main cafeteria.”
“Thanks,” I said kindly, moving as quickly as one could on crutches toward the delicious smells that assaulted my nose. Yum.
Unlike most of the building that was in a rustic cabin theme, the cafeteria was modern. There were buffet counters on opposite sides of the room. One contained hot food while the other side offered an assortment of fruit, cereals, and other continental breakfast items.
Hopping to the cold side, I was determined to start my morning with a grapefruit like I always did. I took a plate and did my best to hold it while maneuvering with my crutches. It wasn’t the easiest thing on the planet. I grunted to myself, determined to get my breakfast.
Getting two halves of grapefruit and a spoon, I struggled to turn and find myself a table.
“Hey, let me help,” the voice that sent tingles down my spine insisted.
My head shot around to see Max right next to me. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep with bags under his eyes.
Staring at him, I reflected on that last photo from the night before. His buff arms, toned chest, and V, leading down to the hockey mask, perfectly positioned over his manhood. My chest heaved at the heat growing inside me as that image lingered in my head as clear as day.
“I’ve got it,” I snapped angrily, making the images disappear from my mind. I remembered how much of a jerk he was. I was still angry about what he had said to me and how he’d called me old. I was only 25. Yes, I’d been just 17 at my first Olympics, but it hadn’t even been ten years ago yet. I still had some fight and competitiveness in me.
“I’m trying to be nice here,” he grunted.
I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, holding onto my plate of grapefruit with a death grip. I didn’t need to be the loser who dropped their food in front of the hot yet jerky guy on day one. I didn’t understand why I’d become so tense around him. His presence made me nervous and put me on edge. Nobody had ever done that to me before. I shook it off. There was no reason to cower under his intimidation. I was a force to be reckoned with. Lia Crestwood didn’t allow anyone to make her feel inferior.
After spotting a free table, I worked my way there and sat my plate down with an exhausted breath. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the day. I’d read over my daily schedule and there were so many activities. Doing everything on my bad ankle was going to wear me out. I smoothed my single braid over my shoulder before glancing down at my plate. I could see my reflection on the back of the perfectly polished spoon, my dark complexion and almond eyes staring back at me.
There weren’t many of us, black girls, in the skating world. I was used to spending my time around people who were either Caucasian or Asian. Taking my spoon and digging into my grapefruit, I thought about how many times I was told that I was pretty for a black girl. What did that even mean? I knew I was pretty and whenever I came in contact with guys of other races or ethnicities, they would attempt to woo me. But Max didn’t. He had done quite the opposite. His contradictory reaction was possibly what had thrown me off. I wasn’t vain or anything. He didn’t have to think I was pretty nor did he have to try to come on to me. However, that thing about him, that spark I got in his presence threw me off my game.
“I was trying to help you over there,” he blurted out.
I moved to grab the back of the chair, to pull it out to sit when another hand grabbed it before me. I swiveled to find Max pulling out my chair for me. I ground my teeth in frustration. This guy didn’t know when to quit and leave me alone. “What part of I’ve got it do you not understand?” I asked, nearly shouting.
The bustling room suddenly went nearly silent at my outburst. Embarrassed, I shoved another spoon of grapefruit into my mouth, determined to ignore him.
“A “thank you” would be nice,” he hissed under his breath.
“A “thank you” is reserved for a time when your help has been solicited,” I retorted before I made the decision to return to my grapefruit.
He stood above me for a moment, but before I knew it, his presence was gone. I swallowed away the unusual feeling of disappointment that flushed through me at his exit. I didn’t get his game or the reason why I reacted to him. This guy didn’t deserve my attention or my lust, but for some reason, I ached to give it to him. Something was seriously wrong with me.
I took a breath and glanced up to see him across the room at a table by himself. He was sipping a cup of coffee and flipping through a magazine almost like a human being. Glancing up from his reading, his steel gray eyes met mine. My core tightened, and I looked away.
Chill out, Lia. I resumed eating my grapefruit, determined to fight off the strange feelings I had for this guy. I wasn’t the hookup kind of girl and this place wasn’t for that anyway. I was at the center to get my career back, so I could earn another gold medal. Or at least that’s what I hoped.
There was the doubt again, sneaking into my thoughts, and replaying that fall in my head repeatedly. The headlines and the gossip said that my career over. I could give in and believe all of it. It was too easy to give in, and I’d done so a number of times since the fall. But today was not the day to give in. I had my first day of real work and I wasn’t going to let the doubts of outsiders, especially Max Madden, cloud my mind.
The task at hand was challenging. I hadn’t walked in weeks without crutches and now, Jerry, my physical therapist, wanted me to take steps without them. Whenever I wasn’t on my crutches and I put a significant amount of weight on my ankle, the pain became excruciating.
Okay, this place was officially a torture lab. Jerry stood with his long blond hair in a man bun. His scruffy f
ace was expectant and there was a look of determination in his eyes. He was serious about me ditching my crutches this soon.
“I don’t know,” I squeaked as I looked around. We had a private room to work in, but I could see into the rooms around us as they were all made of glass. I spotted a girl next to me walking with the aid of a bar. And across from me, I saw him…Max Madden.
As quickly as I could manage, I tore my attention away from him. If I was going to be stuck with him for at least eight weeks or more, my hormones needed to get in check whenever I was in his presence. It was not the time to be single. Hell, I had spent most of my time single.
“Lia, don’t doubt yourself. I know you’re afraid of the pain, but you need to conquer it,” Jerry insisted.
He was right. If I continued to fear the pain, I’d never learn to stand on my own two feet again. I had avoided the pain as best I could, and now it was time to allow the pain back in.
With a deep breath, I handed my crutches to Jerry and put my bad foot to the floor. The searing sensation that filled me made me tremble, but through deep breaths, I kept upright.
You’re a champion. You can do this Lia! Don’t let the pain keep you from your gold.
Self-actualization had been key in my career, and it was time to use it to revive that very career.
“You can use the bar, but try to not take too much pressure off your ankle,” Jerry instructed.
Taking the wooden beam, I steadied myself and took my first couple of steps. I breathed in and out deeply with each step. I managed to make it to the end of the bar before I felt the need to collapse. Luckily, Jerry was there to catch me and hand me back my crutches.
“Good work,” he commented as he helped me take a seat.
I’d only walked about three feet, but I was completely spent and out of breath from that alone. I had a long road ahead of me before I could be back in a pair of skates. Just those three feet had proved something to me: I could do it. It took more strength than I thought a person could possess, but I could manage.
“I’m not going to force you to do a ton of things today, but know that every session will get more challenging with time. You need to practice in your cabin whenever you get the chance. You have to rebuild the strength in that ankle. It will help your healing process.”
I nodded at Jerry’s words. I understood the commitment needed. Sipping my bottle of water, I looked over to the room across from us. I saw Max, and he was struggling. It seemed that his session wasn’t going well. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could see the expletives formed on his moving lips.
He got directly in his physical therapist’s face. It seemed like everyone around me in the various rooms was now focused on Max as his voice grew louder with each passing second. His muffled yells echoed through the space while his finger jabbed inches away from the woman’s face. The explosive temper that I’d read about was on full display.
The therapist exited the room, shaking her head. Jerry anxiously went to the door and opened it. He and the other trainer chatted for a brief second before he turned back to me.
“That’s all for today, Lia. Practice within reason and I will see you tomorrow at the same time.” He gave me a wave before he and Max’s trainer disappeared up the hall, the woman clearly shaken by his outburst.
I stood on my crutches and started toward the door. Spotting Max sitting on a bench with his head down actually made me feel sorry for the guy. I shrugged until I saw him pop a pill into his mouth and drown it down with water.
Instead of minding my own damn business and heading out to lunch, I found myself heading into Max’s rehab room. His head shot up as he spotted me at the door. His eyes were blazing with anger, pain, and possibly a bit of fear. Offering a weak smile, I hobbled my way over to him and took a seat next to him.
“How was your first session?” I asked. I was terrible at making small talk, but I tried on occasion. I’d never been the most social girl, my focus mainly on skating. Making friends in the skating world could be difficult when most of us were each other’s competition. Most of my friends who were also skaters were in other disciplines or like Damian, were not a direct competition as he was a pairs skater.
Max shook his head. “This is bullshit.”
“It might not be so bad if you adjusted your attitude,” I countered. I’d been known to be frank with people, letting them know what was on my mind. Max would be no different. That could turn people off, but I wasn’t one to feed another a load of shit. My team consisted of my mom, my coach, Beverly, and my choreographer, Nadia. They always told it like it was and never sugarcoated anything. Their influences were the most prolific in my life and their attitudes toward honesty had gotten me where I was today.
“And why do I need to do that, Princess?” He shot at me.
I was seriously over him calling me ‘Princess.’ I had been constantly called that in the media and it had stuck with me for nearly ten years. I didn’t need him to use it as a weapon. “I have a name,” I spat in his direction. “It’s Lia, by the way, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I was just trying to help you this morning, but you decided to be a stone cold bitch instead. So, how about we make a truce to not help each other, okay?” He was in a bad mood and I wasn’t going to take it personal. He was showing classic signs of being dependent on the painkillers. I wouldn’t hold it against him. I’d seen it before.
“Well, Max, I hope that at some point you can see that these people want to help you. And with the right attitude, you can help yourself,” I said as I stood, positioning my crutches. I peered down and gave him a kind smile. The guy was a jerk, but he’d been through the same shit as I had.
The Willows Center was a place for us to heal from the shit that had put us at our worst. He just had a little further to go before he was back at his best, injury and attitude. I felt bad for the guy. I knew that he was coming from that place of losing your worth to one single moment in time. Under his muscles and jerky exterior, there was a very talented and maybe even a somewhat, kind man.
It was my moment and it replayed over and over in my mind. I was determined to rewrite it, make it better, and be that champion I knew I was. I prayed Max could see that within himself too. I think he deserved to be the champion. Why? I didn’t know, but something in his gray eyes told me so.
4
Max
After two and a half weeks, it seemed like maybe something was working. I didn’t know for sure. I went to physical therapy every day at my assigned time, and after the first week, I even started doing the exercises in my room. My therapist, Shanna, was actually pretty cool in the end. She’d been working in sports medicine for over ten years and she had experience in almost every sport.
After my initial blowup with her, I felt like shit, so I had flowers delivered to her. The woman was only trying to do her job and my fucked up attitude was getting in the way of that. I had to realize that no matter how much I fought it, I was stuck at the center and paying for it myself. I wasn’t going to let any more money go down the drain. But I did draw the line at the group and solo therapy with the shrink lady. I wasn’t for that shit.
JC thought I was shitting him when I told him. The fucker was lucky he had waited a week before he contacted me because he would have gotten my fist through the fucking phone in those first few days.
I wasn’t quite ready to get on the ice, but a few others were. My rehab session also made me work up a sweat. I had a little routine going and after my shower I’d sit by the rink. There was this feeling that ran through me whenever I was near the ice. It was my life and breath. That shit felt so good. If anything felt better than being on the ice, it was fucking a nice chick. Damn it had been a while.
Casey, my ex, hadn’t even tried to contact me. Normally, nobody was allowed in, but I’d kept Casey around. She was a planned one-night stand, but for a model she could hold a decent conversation, and I had six pretty okay months with her. It was my longest relationship to date.
But that bitch dropped me right after my injury, though. The doctors mentioned the possibility that I would never be able to skate again, which meant I’d no longer be Max Madden, the rich and hot hockey player. I learned her true colors after that.
The door opened, distracting me from my horny thoughts. And there Lia was.
I’d seen her nearly every day, but it wasn’t like we had any contact. We kept to ourselves. Whenever I saw her, I wanted to talk to her. Damn, I actually wanted to say I was sorry for being a fucking jerk to her. She didn’t deserve any of my fucked up words. I had realized that days in, but I wasn’t just going to approach her. Lia had this fire about her. Watching that fire had become a pastime, but I wouldn’t get close enough to her to get burned.
Every day, I’d look through the glass doors of my workout room into hers. Her determination was something else. As the weeks went on, she got better and better each day. She’d gone from only managing to walk a few feet to moving like a gazelle or a delicate angel across the room seemingly effortlessly.
She was completely on her feet without crutches. I saw her stroll into breakfast one morning, a slight limp to her walk then, but nothing to aid her. Lia had gotten past the pain that still hindered me useless. Of every woman on campus, she had everything going for her.
One day, she was bending over stretching. Big Zeus couldn’t help but jump at that sight of that. Lia had a body like no other girl. She was lean, but juicy in all the right places. That girl set my body on fire by just being in the same room with me.
I spotted her taking a seat on a bench not far from me with skates in her hand. Girl was really going to get back on the ice. I was shocked and proud. That fire burned deep and shone in her eyes when she was in her physical therapy sessions. I witnessed her pushing herself beyond her limit in ways that I was too chicken to do. Fuck, she was a goddess in her own right.
