Skater Seduced by Father Figure.
Or the cleverer version: Olympian Spins out of Control.
My stomach lurches as I recall the humiliation, and I look out over the mountain range at the cloudless blue sky. Tonight is New Year’s Eve. The Bike Shop will close early, and I promised Kaleb I would make dinner so he could have an early evening to catch up on sleep.
When I pull open the door, I notice the noise in the locker room is subdued. Most instructors have two jobs to pay the bills. There are a lot of tired people working today.
New Year’s sounds like such a fun celebration, and I always thought I would enjoy a night out when I was old enough to drink in bars. But now that I know what an evening alone with my boyfriend can turn into, the desire is gone.
I turn the corner to Kaleb as he waits for me by my locker. I ask, “Hey, why didn’t you sleep in? You must be exhausted.” I sit next to him and welcome the tingle his presence gives me.
“I was in bed by eleven. Got my eight hours and I’m raring to go. Want to ski?” He plays with the end of my braid.
“I would love that.” I suppose there’s no time like the present to talk. “I have something I want to tell you, so let’s not grab anyone to join us, please.”
“Sure.” Concern clouds his face.
I reach up and trace my finger along his lower lip. My throat gets tight. What if he decides I’m too much work?
He takes my hand and kisses my palm. “What is it, babe?”
I’m afraid. “I need to tell you about Lucas. My ex.” I shake off the tears that threaten to fall and stand up. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few.” He kisses the top of my head before he leaves.
Cold vinyl bites through my ski pants when we sit on the chair. I tuck my poles under my leg, take a deep breath, and blow it out. I can’t look at Kaleb and just begin to speak. “When I was twelve I was discovered by Lucas. He saw me at a skating competition and told my mother I had a gift. He would be my coach and make me a star.”
“I thought he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He had a Swedish accent and the tall, thin looks of a male figure skater.” Now that I’ve started, I’m ready to let this out. I lift my goggles so Kaleb can see my eyes.
“By the time I was fifteen we were having an affair. I wanted it more than anything. He cherished me. He told me I was his soul mate.”
Kaleb takes off a glove and reaches for my mitten-clad hand. Don’t this guy’s hands ever get cold? “But he kept me sheltered from other people. He found reasons why other skaters couldn’t be my friends. He moved us to a remote cabin on a lake so people wouldn’t take our love away. About this time, he started to have raging outbursts and blame me for things that made him angry. There was no rhyme or reason to them. Yet I believed they were all my fault.” Kaleb squeezes my hand.
“Every time, he would apologize the next day. He would say it was his drinking. He’d tell me he couldn’t live without me, and if I left, he would kill himself. I believed it, and thought I was his savior. I thought I could help this troubled man. The man I was sure was my destiny.”
The chair rattles us as we pass over the sheave of a support tower. “During all this, I was ranked the top female skater in the US. Everyone said I was going to the Olympics. When I made the team, I was the golden girl, sure to bring home a medal.” Anger begins to blossom in my stomach. “The night after I won my Olympic team spot, he beat me for the first time. He had hit me before, but it was nothing like this. He broke a couple of my ribs, and there was no way I could compete.”
I look up into Kaleb’s eyes. Rage simmers in the depths, and it fuels me. “I made the mistake of hugging a male coach who had congratulated me.” I clench my fists, and Kaleb lets go of my hand. “He ruined my lifelong dream.” Fury races through my veins. “It also made me take action.”
Kaleb tenses, and his mouth is a tight line, but he lets me continue. “I was so afraid, but knew I had to do something. I told my mother. She drove eight hours overnight and took me away.” I inhale through my nose. A shaky breath comes out. “He spent the next few years stalking me while we waited for a court date.” I snort in disgust. “Restraining orders, police visits, nothing stopped him. Not until he was finally convicted and thrown in jail. Eighteen months later, he was released, and that’s why I moved here.”
“Oh, Lori.” He pulls me into his arms. I let him hug me for a moment before I shift back.
“I’m so sorry about the other morning. I know you would never hurt me. I just freaked when you yelled.” I look into his face and see it harden.
“Who wouldn’t after what you lived through? I want to fucking kill him.” The muscles in his jaw jump and I flinch. “Sorry. I’m just so angry he hurt you.”
I place my hand on his arm. “So am I.”
Kaleb pulls me into a hug. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
I breathe in the smell of him and let it calm me. I want to believe him. But I know Lucas isn’t done with me. Not yet.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kaleb’s boots stomp before he knocks on the door. As I unlock the three locks, I wonder what he thinks as he hears the thunk of bolts release. I say, “Dessert and you, two of my favorite things.” I pull him in by his coat and kiss him. I’ve been anxiously awaiting him, and my mind has been to naughty places.
He walks me backward and into the kitchen. Still kissing me, he sets down the champagne and box and lifts me up onto the counter. My legs wrap around him as our tongues entwine. I pull away with a gasp and work my lips down his neck. His skin is clean, but I detect his heady scent.
Kaleb drops his coat to the floor in a rustle of nylon. “God, I’ve missed you.” He takes my face in his hands and pulls me up toward his mouth. “We keep this up, and I’ll forget about dinner.” His stomach growls as he kisses me.
I stop and let out an exaggerated sigh. “We can’t have that.” I push him out of the way and hop off the counter. The chill of the refrigerator does little to cool me down as I pull out a plate of sliced cheese and fruit. “Here, now you won’t faint on me.” I snicker as I remember the night I fainted. I leave him to the appetizer and go pick up his coat.
“What are you making?”
I call out from the living room as I light candles. “Chicken piccata with rice and green beans. Open the Pinot Grigio in the fridge for us.”
“Nice choice in wine.”
“Thank Google. You inspired me to look up what to drink with tonight’s dinner.” I appraise the look of candles glowing in my tiny apartment. I turn down the lights and smile. Now this is the way to spend New Year’s Eve.
The wine opener squeaks as Kaleb twists it into the plastic cork. My heels click on the vinyl kitchen floor. My eyes are drawn to the spot where I replaced the melted tile. You can’t tell.
Wine gurgles into glasses. How did I get so lucky? He’s still here. His strong hands pick up the glasses, and he hands me one. I say, “Thanks. Now sit. I’ll make dinner, and you can entertain me with customer stories.”
An hour later, I watch Kaleb eat a third piece of chicken. “The amount of food you put away amazes me. You make me feel like a good cook.”
“You are. This is delicious.” He drags the last piece of his chicken through the lemon butter sauce. His eyes close as he savors a bite. He leans back. “So happy right now.”
I get up to clear the dishes, but Kaleb reaches for my arm. “Don’t. Sit and talk to me.” I sit back down.
Kaleb pours more wine in our glasses. I watch the pale, yellow liquid splash into the goblet and cease to move. I think I know what’s coming.
“The locks on your door. Is that because of Lucas?”
“Yes.” I swirl the wine in my glass.
“Are you afraid he’ll find you?” His warm fingers wrap around my hand.
“Not right now. He’s locked away in a rehab facility. But yes, I am afraid he’ll find me someday.” I lift up my wine glass. “That’s the thi
ng about stalkers. They never give up.” I take a sip of the cool liquid and let it sit on my tongue. Slowly, it numbs the surface.
“How can I help you feel safe?”
Oh my goodness, is this guy perfect or what? Tears spring to my eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” I reach over and take his other hand. “For now, I’m perfectly safe. When he gets out, then I’ll tell you about my paranoid ways.” I smirk. If I don’t make light of this, I’ll cry.
Then I sigh and sit back. “Actually, one thing you can’t ever be is jealous. I don’t think I could handle it. I need you to believe in me. Know that I would never do anything to betray you. Can you do that?”
He rolls his glass between his hands. “I can. I don’t get jealous easily. I trust, but I need to be trusted, too.”
“Uh-oh. I have a confession to make.” I take a sip of my wine to buy time and figure out the right words. “I’m a little jealous of Gretchen.”
“Really? Why?”
“She’s Poster Gretchen. All the guys talk about her, and she’s just as hot in real life. She even has that confident “I’m sexy” thing guys love. This last week you’ve spent more time with her than me.” I hold up my hand to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “I know; it isn’t by choice. I get it. I’m just admitting I feel a little twinge when I see her.”
He shakes his head. “Not all guys love the confident “I’m sexy” thing. I don’t. I dated it once. Never again.” His head tilts, and he licks his lips. “Guys talk about you, too, you know.”
My cheeks flush, and I take a sip of wine because I don’t know what to say.
Kaleb clears his throat. “There’s something I might be able to do ahead of time,” he says. “Have you ever taken a self-defense course?”
“No.” I look into my glass and feel a different rush of heat in my face.
Kaleb lifts my chin with a finger. “Hey, please don’t ever be ashamed with me. You didn’t do anything wrong here. You know that, right?”
“I do. But I spent a lot of years not feeling good enough. It’s kind of a knee-jerk reaction.” His hand falls to my shoulder, and he lets a strand of my hair slip through his fingers.
“I can teach you self-defense moves. I used to help run a class in college.”
“I’d like that.” I reach over and trace the outline of his arm. “It will be like having a personal trainer. Any other moves you want to teach me?”
“Oh, I can probably think of something.” His voice is husky, and my belly smolders.
I grab his hand and stand up. “We can do the dishes later. Come with me.”
“Dessert?” he asks.
“Dessert.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Girls’ night out. My hands sweat as I imagine all the things that could go wrong. I’ve haven’t done this, ever. I have vague memories of sleepovers, but since I was twelve I haven’t had a close girlfriend. I’m comfortable with Casey, and Megan is super sweet. But Gretchen? Oh boy. My pulse quickens.
I pull the key out of the ignition and grab the avocado, tomato, and balsamic glaze salad off the passenger seat. In skinny jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, and slip-on boots, I hope I’m wearing the right thing. Wind howls as I walk up the snowy path toward the front door. Casey lives in a real house, and a pang of nostalgia tweaks my heart.
I ring the bell and pull hair out of my eyes.
“Lori! Come in.” Casey takes the salad from my hands and gives me a one-armed hug. “I’m so glad you came. Follow me to the kitchen and you can pick your poison.”
I hang my jacket on the coat rack by the door and slip off my boots. I tread across the soft carpet, and I notice Gretchen at the dining room table. She’s in oversized sweatpants and a tattered T-shirt. Her bleached-blond hair is in a messy bun. The stark light of a computer screen lights up her blotchy face. Oh thank goodness, she’s real.
She looks up from her laptop. “Hey. I’m glad you came too. I hear so much about you from Kaleb. That boy thinks you hung the moon.”
My face heats up. “What a nice thing to say to me, thanks.”
In the kitchen, Casey has a pitcher of something pink and pretty, hand-painted martini glasses set out. “Okay, we have Casey Cosmos—”
Gretchen interjects loudly from the other room. “That means weak!”
Casey continues, “Yeah. I’m a lightweight, so I mix my cosmos with seltzer. There are wine coolers in the fridge, or you can mix up something else with vodka. I even have beer.”
“I’ll try a Casey Cosmo, please.” She pours the bubbly liquid into a green-rimmed glass. “Thanks.” I walk carefully to the dining room.
An edge of plastic wrap sticks up from my bowl, and Gretchen licks her fingers. “This is yummy. How did you make it?”
“It’s just tomato, avocado, and a balsamic-vinegar glaze.”
“Did you hear that, Casey? It’s super tasty and healthy.” Gretchen winks her grayish eyes at me. “She eats junk. I’m trying to change her evil ways.”
Casey walks in from the kitchen with a big bowl of buttered popcorn. “Gretch, popcorn is a vegetable. Besides I made it from scratch. No bag.” She’s got a big grin on her face, and I know she doesn’t mind the ribbing.
Gretchen smiles. “It’s a good thing I’m making dinner.” She snitches another piece of avocado. “I’m grilling chicken with a satay sauce and asparagus.”
“Stop eating with your fingers, you heathen. Go get the plates and silverware.” Casey plops down next to me with a sigh. Her glass clinks when she sets it down. She reaches in the bowl for a piece of tomato and gives me a sly smile. “Ummm, this is good.”
The door opens with a whoosh of wind, and Megan calls out, “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.” She juggles a slow cooker, platter, and bag.
I hop up. “Let me help you with that.”
“Thanks. I had it until I opened the door,” she jokes and hands me the electric pot. “Would you turn that on low?”
“Oh, yum. You brought chocolate fondue, didn’t you?” Casey’s face beams like a child getting ice cream.
“Of course. This is a chick dinner, after all.” The light from the fridge illuminates Megan’s platter of brightly colored fruit as she sets it inside. “What are we drinking?”
Gretchen pours vodka into her martini glass. “Casey Cosmos, which I’m happy to doctor up if you want a real drink.”
“No, thanks. I’m a wine-cooler girl.” Megan grabs one before she shuts the fridge.
I feel bad for Gretchen. “Put a splash of that in mine, please.” I hold out my glass and watch the clear liquid top off my drink.
We wander in to the dining room and sit. The wood table is unadorned except for candles. Casey’s house is a small ranch-style home. The kitchen, dining room, and living room are all connected.
Gretchen dishes out my salad onto her plate and then Casey’s. She hands me the spoon. “Kaleb told me you used to be a competitive skater and showed me a video. Now I remember how I know you. I read the article in Sports Illustrated about the Olympic hopefuls. Did you make the team?”
Well okay, then. Let’s start the night off about me. I wonder if she’s being kind by only mentioning Sports Illustrated, because I graced the cover of many magazines and not with my best look. I take a big swig of my drink and nearly choke as the alcohol burns its way down my throat. “I did, but I didn’t go. I broke two ribs a couple of weeks before.”
“Oh, wow.” Megan digs into the salad.
“That sucks. How’d it happen?” Gretchen stabs tomato with her fork. She doesn’t know the truth.
Show time. I pull out my acting skills. “Training. I fell during a jump and didn’t break my fall.”
Casey swallows a mouthful. “That explains why you’re so good at skiing. Gretchen, she only started skiing a couple of years ago. You’d never know.” She takes a sip from her martini glass. “Gretchen hopes to make the Olympic team, too. She followed her favorite coach out here.”
Gretchen nods. “You
know, they say we snowboarders are crazy. But I think skaters are fucked in the head.” I flinch, thinking she’s about to talk about Lucas, as she says, “Sorry.”
Casey glares at her. Gretchen says, “Hey, I’m trying. It just slips out.”
Gretchen turns her attention back to me. “You know that thing when the guy whips the girl around by her feet and she almost kisses the ice? That’s nuts.” She looks at Casey with pride. I guess it’s for word choice.
“Yeah, that’s pretty crazy. But I never did pairs. My head was in my own hands.” I smile with relief.
Megan reaches for the popcorn. She takes a handful and waves it between Gretchen and Casey. “You two are like an old couple. How long have you been friends?”
Casey chortles. “Too long. It’s a New Year’s resolution thing. She’ll teach me to give up junk food, and I’ll clean up her mouth. Think either of us can do it?” Gretchen laughs with her.
My head swims with alcohol on a near empty stomach. Perhaps that’s why I blurt out, “I didn’t make a New Year’s resolution, but I should. I need to learn to hear profanity and not flinch. It’s kind of all around me.”
Gretchen jokes. “I can help you with that.” She touches Casey’s arm. “This is for the greater good. Cover your ears.” She drinks the last of her martini. “Okay, repeat after me. Fuck.”
I fight back a cringe and speak in a small voice. “Fuck.”
“Very good. Now say it with a little more feeling.”
“Fuck.” I giggle, and heat rises to my cheeks.
“Nice job, cupcake.”
I notice my martini is finished when I try to take another sip. “That’s fucking cupcake to you.” This makes everyone laugh.
“So here’s the assignment. You need to say it at least ten times over your day. When a situation calls for it.” Gretchen gets a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “And at least once with Kaleb.” She giggles again and then stops herself. “You need to tell him you want him to fuck you.”
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 148
