Stick the Landing

by Kate McMurray

  “Thanks, Dad,” said Jake.

  He was still mulling that over when he and Chelsea left the hotel a short while later.

  “This sucks,” Jake said as he and Chelsea waited for their cab back to the Olympic Village, after being accosted by a British reporter who wanted an interview. Jake had begged off, saying he needed to get off his feet.

  “The ankle?”

  “The ankle. The media attention. All of it.”

  “Give it another day. Someone else will dominate the news. Some marathon runner who overcame cancer or a cyclist who recovered from a grave injury will win a medal and that will take over. I mean, hey, the soccer finals are coming up and Spain is still in it. This city loves soccer. All of those players are far more famous here than you are.”

  “Thanks?” There was some truth to that, though. Once track got rolling in earnest or once some bigger Olympic story took over the headlines, no one would remember who Jake was anymore. Hopefully.

  Chelsea shrugged. “I love you, Jake, even if you’re a big idiot.”

  “Love you too, Chels. Am I really going to have to keep an eye on you this week?”

  “I promise to be a perfect angel.” She shot him a sweet smile.

  “That’s not reassuring.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  REPORTERS HAD taken to hanging out around the gate between the athlete-only part of the Olympic Village and the public area, which went a long way toward convincing Jake that being in the hotel would help him keep a lower profile. He and Chelsea had managed to get a cab without too much trouble this time around, but Jake still found himself having an awkward conversation with a hotel manager about security. Also, it was hard to keep the media out when the TBC staff, as well as staff from the networks of three other countries, were staying in this hotel.

  The saving grace was that the elevators needed a key card to work, so only hotel guests could access the upper floors.

  Chelsea’s three teammates rolled into the lobby as Jake was wrapping up a conversation with a security guard. A flurry of glitter and girlish laughter collided with Chelsea, who giggled and hugged each girl, even though they’d all seen each other earlier that day. “This is going to be so much fun,” Jessica said.

  “Good clean fun, right?” said Jake.

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Ignore my big brother. He thinks he’s my chaperone.”

  “Hi, Jake,” said Ashley, batting her eyelashes. “I didn’t get to tell you, but that high bar final was amazing. How much longer do you need the crutches for?”

  “A few days. I know the drinking age is sixteen here, so you’re all legal, but don’t get too crazy, okay?”

  “Sure, Dad,” said Chelsea. “Come on, girls, we have a room upstairs. See you later, Jakey.”

  Jake tried not to think too hard about what kind of trouble a group of teenage girls could get themselves into at a hotel in a foreign city.

  A bellhop loaded all of Jake’s bags onto a cart, even though Jake was perfectly capable of carrying a couple of bags up to his room. Jake was about to protest when Topher and Natalie came in through the front door.

  Topher looked upset.

  Unable to stop himself, Jake walked over to him. “Is everything okay?”

  Topher looked startled. “Jake! What are you doing here?”

  “I’m checking in to this hotel.”

  Natalie touched her nose. “Good thinking.”

  “Why?” asked Topher. “Not that I’m sad I’ll be able to see more of you, but….”

  “This is brilliant,” said Natalie.

  Topher turned to her, looking appalled. “Are you serious? What if we—?”

  Under her breath, Natalie said, “The TBC powers that be want their Olympics broadcast to be wholesome and scandal-free. Athletes are just here to triumph in their sports, smile for the cameras, and go home. They do not have sex with each other. My thought? If someone from the TBC staff catches you two together in a compromising position, they’ll try to squash the story for the sake of keeping the Olympics a precious, perfect thing.”

  Topher let out a breath. Jake nodded. That made sense.

  Natalie leaned away and shoved her hands into her designer jeans pockets. “Think about all the things they don’t broadcast.”

  And that was a valid point. The previous Olympics had been in a South American city plagued by political violence and pollution, but the entire broadcast—Valentin had made him watch it when they got home as a way to demystify international competitions so that Jake would stop biffing them—had been about the beauty of the country and how happy its people were to be hosting the Olympics. Never mind that a couple of fencers had gotten mugged and protesters had delayed a bunch of the track events, among other things that happened throughout the Games that TBC hadn’t broadcasted.

  “Fair,” said Jake.

  “I think you’re safer here than you would be anywhere else. Also, is it my imagination, or are there way more security guards in the lobby than usual?”

  “The paparazzi followed me and Chelsea around Madrid all day. The fact that they’re crawling all over the public areas of the Village is part of the reason I moved over here. There’s only so much the hotel can do. But if anyone gets out a camera and starts taking photos without permission, they will be escorted out.”

  “That’s something.”

  “How does it feel to be famous?” Topher asked.

  “It’s not the best,” said Jake.

  “Señor Mirakovitch?” asked the bellhop.

  In Spanish, Jake said, “Take my bags up, please. I will be there in a few minutes.” He passed the bellhop a few euros.

  “How many languages do you speak?” Topher asked, a little bit of awe in his voice.

  “My Spanish isn’t the best, but I live in Texas. I think I picked it up by osmosis.”

  “You’re bilingual, though, aren’t you? Russian and English?” asked Natalie.

  “I also speak Spanish and a little Chinese.”

  Topher shook his head. “You missed your calling as, like, a UN ambassador or something.”

  “Looks like I’ll be retired from my current gig at the ripe old age of twenty-seven. I’ll need a hobby or something.”

  Topher laughed. “You’re funny, kid.”

  “Let’s get out of the lobby,” said Natalie, pushing Jake and Topher toward the hotel bar. They found some big, comfortable chairs and sat down together.

  Jake wanted to get up to his room, but he also wanted to get to the bottom of why Topher’s expression had been so grim earlier. “Why were you upset when you came in?”

  “Well, fun story. Teenage girls love me. Old white guys in flyover states don’t.”

  Jake looked at Natalie, needing a translation.

  Which she gave him. “I found an article the other day about how young women think Topher is completely fabulous. They’re tweeting about him and creating memes and writing fanfic.”

  “Fanfic?”

  Topher rolled his eyes. “The erotic stories about me and various out gay athletes at the Games are my favorites.”

  “Is it wrong that I feel a little jealous?” asked Jake. He glanced at Natalie, who didn’t react, so Jake assumed Topher had told her about what was happening between them.

  Topher smiled. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that for every three posts about how adorable and sparkly I am, there is one calling me a fag or a sissy. A conservative group has started a letter campaign to get me pulled from the air, although my TBC handler insists they won’t.”

  “They won’t,” said Natalie. “Didn’t you hear that ratings are up? The viewership wants younger, more diverse talent calling the events, instead of the same old white guys who have been on-air since 1984.”

  “It makes me nervous. I really want the figure skating commentary gig. Even if they don’t pull me off the air, this Concerned Moms group could keep me out of primetime. So I’ll either get stuck doing fluff pieces or they’ll only let me cover, l
ike, the European Championships, which airs on one of those channels only people with the good cable sports packages get.” Topher sighed. “I’m not going to tone myself down to keep from offending some bigoted ladies’ sensibilities, but the damage is done either way. So, I don’t know. Have I completely fucked this up?”

  “No,” said Natalie. “I think you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. TBC wants fresh voices, and that’s exactly what you are. And look at how fast you adapted to talking about gymnastics. You’re great on the air, Toph. If anyone says otherwise, they’re an asshole.”

  “Yeah, but some of those assholes are in charge of making hiring decisions.”

  Jake was reminded again of the conversation he’d had with his parents that morning. Sure, they would love him no matter what, but if he were outed in a big way? How would that affect his future employment? He still wasn’t completely sure what he wanted to do after his retirement. His rough plan had been to take some classes at a school in Houston and coach the young kids at the Mirakovitch gym, but he wasn’t married to that plan. Would conservative parents pull their kids out of his classes if they knew he was gay? He didn’t think so, but weirder things had happened in Texas.

  “I need to let it roll off my back,” said Topher. “There’s nothing I can do about it right now.”

  Jake let out a breath. “Are you guys done for the day?”

  “Yeah,” said Natalie. “You want to have dinner with us? We were just going to eat at the restaurant on the other side of the lobby.”

  That seemed easy enough. “Sure, let’s do it. Let me just finish checking into my room.”

  TOPHER SETTLED against Jake’s side in the bed, and Jake folded his arms around Topher’s chest. Topher had been right; being wrapped up in Jake was magnificent.

  Topher closed his eyes and savored the postorgasmic glow. After dinner Jake had followed Topher back to his room—conveniently, their rooms were a few doors down the hall from each other—and after an athletic bout of sex, they’d hopped in the shower and somehow summoned enough magic to do it again under the spray of water. There’d been a brief moment when Topher had worried he’d drown, but it almost didn’t matter. Things got tricky with Jake’s injured foot, but Jake didn’t seem to mind much.

  Topher had committed those moments to memory. Being with Jake was amazing. He hadn’t clicked with a man in bed in this way in a very long time.

  “How do you like living in New York?” Jake asked.

  It was an odd question, but Topher had learned enough about Jake to guess this was going somewhere. “I love it. I mean, part of why I moved there was that I’d retired and decided I’d do all the things I hadn’t been able to do when I was training. I took a few classes, I went dancing in a bunch of clubs, I met some guys, I walked in Fashion Week, and now I’m trying to get a more long-term position at TBC. I guess I don’t have to be in New York for that, but I don’t know, I like the city. It has some magic to it.”

  Jake squeezed Topher gently and sighed. “Athletes joke that they live in the gym, but it’s literally true for me. And now my body is so banged up that the next time I injure myself, it could very well end my career. My plan right now is… to keep training gymnasts. To stay in the gym.”

  “I can’t imagine the kind of pressure you must have dealt with. My mom is not an athlete.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He died before I was old enough to remember him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Topher rubbed Jake’s arm. “My mom was the only parent I ever needed. She’s just… she’s incredible. She always supported me and worked extra jobs to pay for my lessons and rink time. She sewed some of my early costumes.” Topher let out a breath. His mother really had been his rock during his career. “She couldn’t come to all my competitions when I was a junior because she had to work so much to pay for everything, but as soon as I brought in enough money, I told her to quit one of her jobs. When I started getting endorsement deals, I bought her a house. And I still feel like I’ll never be able to pay her back for everything she gave me.”

  “Did you always feel that way?”

  “I questioned my choices a lot, especially at some practices when I was on my twentieth figure eight and my coach was yelling at me about how I was an inch off the line. But yeah, I think I always kind of knew my mom was something special.”

  “And not a Soviet gymnast.”

  Topher laughed. “No.”

  “Some former gymnasts keep their kids as far from the sport as possible, but my parents tossed us right in. It’s… it’s so much to live up to.”

  “Do you want to leave the gym when you retire?”

  “Not sure.” Jake shifted a little on the bed but tugged at Topher so he’d settle back against Jake’s body. “I’ve thought about teaching—I really love working with young kids. But part of me also thinks it might be a good idea to get as far from Houston as possible. Figure out how to be something other than an elite gymnast. Do something completely different.”

  Topher wove his fingers with Jake’s. He really couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to come from a whole family of elite gymnasts and to spend so much time in their shadows. But Jake had proven himself this week, and Topher felt weirdly proud of him. “So you’re thinking hard about retiring, then.”

  “I hurt myself doing a tumbling pass I’ve done hundreds of times. And I was having the meet of my life. I think that’s a sign that my body can’t take much more. Maybe one more season, but then that’s probably it.” Jake sighed again. “I feel like I put my whole life on hold for this. I’ll miss gymnastics, of course, and part of me isn’t really looking forward to retiring, but on the other hand, I can’t wait to finally start living my life.”

  “Yeah. I know a little about that.”

  Jake pulled away slightly and propped himself up on one elbow. Topher rolled over to look at him. “So, when you got to New York, did you just fuck your way through it, or…,” Jake asked.

  Topher laughed. “No, darling, not quite. I did party quite a bit. Dated a man for almost a year, but it didn’t work out. Dated a few others. I learned how to cook, though. Turns out that when you spend your whole life pushing your limits to be the best at something, you can apply that drive to other pursuits.”

  “Is it crazy that I want you to cook for me sometime?”

  God. Jake looked so earnest and sweet, his face showing all his emotions. His disheveled hair and those amazing, strong arms were so perfect. Topher suddenly had a vision of waking up beside this face for many mornings in the future. “Not crazy at all.”

  Jake smiled. “I will admit, I feel pretty safe in this hotel, but sneaking around with you for a whole week could get dangerous.”

  “Are you worried about getting caught together?”

  “I can’t decide. Should I be?”

  Topher considered. He hadn’t expected them to be in much of a position to be caught together, but Jake had a lot of idle time over the next week. That could mean they’d spend a lot of time together, if the network didn’t keep Topher busy. And spare time was a real possibility, because despite Joanna’s reassurances, some of his scheduled appearances had been cancelled. That could have only been because he’d been bumped in favor of a splashy interview with an athlete who had unexpectedly excelled, or that the network didn’t want to put him on-air so much. Topher couldn’t say, and it was taking a lot for it not to bother him.

  He took a deep breath and tried to focus on Jake’s question. “I don’t know. It’s not like people don’t know I’m gay. And I like you a lot and am certainly not ashamed to be seen with you. But you’re already in the media spotlight, and this is bound to increase its brightness. Are you ready for that?”

  Jake flopped onto his back. “No. I don’t want to be in the media spotlight. I wanted to win a gold medal… or a few… and then I wanted the press to leave me alone. Chelsea thinks some other story will emerge and the press will follo
w that one.”

  “That’s true. There’s a Dutch rower who got some press today because he’s a cancer survivor and had to miss the previous Olympics because he was doing chemo, but now he’s cancer-free and he won a gold medal by a crazy margin today. Everyone at TBC was talking about that this afternoon.”

  “Huh. Well, there you go.”

  “And one of the female Chinese divers got engaged to her coach-slash-boyfriend.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem shady at all.”

  Topher laughed. “The Olympics are basically built for these kinds of stories. Your performance at the event finals could very well be on highlight reels for years to come, but it won’t be as immediate tomorrow as it was yesterday. The press will back off.”

  “I asked my parents what would happen if I got outed.”

  Topher leaned closer and pushed some of Jake’s hair off his face. Now that it didn’t have gel in it, it kind of just flopped around everywhere. Topher wasn’t upset about that, because Jake had really soft hair, and Topher liked running his fingers through it. “What did they say?”

  “Mom said she loved me no matter what and Dad just told me to ‘be careful,’ but I don’t really know what that means. Bottom line, though, is that everyone who matters already knows I’m gay, so if the general public finds out… I don’t know. Does it change anything? Probably not. But you’re right, it could put the spotlight back on me. And I’m also kind of worried some parents might pull their kids from the classes I teach at the gym.”

  “Is that a rational fear?”

  “I don’t know. And then I keep wondering if you and I even have any kind of future. Is this one of those relationships that burns fast and is over when we fly home?”

  A knot formed in Topher’s throat. Here it was, wasn’t it? They were about to have The Talk. Topher had been hoping to avoid this, to just keep floating along and enjoying themselves. Alas. “Is that what you want?”