by Erin McRae
He made himself stay where he was. “There are a million ways you’ve always been able to break my heart, but the possibility that we’ve been a mess forever because as kids I was afraid of cows and you were afraid of what — me? kindness? pity? — might be too much to bear.”
“I never meant to break your heart.”
“Which is why you dumped me in that mess after Annecy.”
Katie’s posture changed to something straight and fierce. “That was completely unrelated and totally necessary.”
“But why?” In all the arguments they’d had in the four years since their comeback, he’d never been able to get a straight answer from her on that.
Katie set her jaw. “We didn’t work when we were together.”
Brendan frowned. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“You know I wait on your every word with bated breath.” Sharp like before. But fonder now. Like maybe, just maybe, she was ready to listen.
Brendan took a deep breath. Time to say what was necessary and, after so many years of struggling and miscommunication, suddenly so incredibly obvious. “I think the problem was never that the universe didn’t want us to be together, or was punishing us, or whatever you thought was going on. I think the problem is that when we slept together — or so much as kissed — you stopped trusting me.”
“You sound hurt,” Katie said.
“Of course I’m hurt!” Brendan dug his fingers into his hair. “I’ve spent more than half my life learning to pick you up. To throw you across the ice. To do spins without cutting you. To keep you safe. So why is sex when you stop trusting me?”
“Oh, like you’ve never dropped me,” she said scornfully. Still, Brendan couldn’t look away from her.
“I did. I have. But you let me do it again and again and again until we were perfect. So why didn’t you let us do the work off the ice too?”
“I knew the costs if we lost. I didn’t know the costs if I lost you.”
Brendan looked at her earnestly. Again, he had to restrain himself from reaching for her hands. In her current mood Katie would probably pull away, “You could never lose me.”
“I did. For four years. And it was terrible.”
“Because you broke up with me!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Katie said in frustration as she tugged a knife out of her boot. She flipped it around and offered him the handle. “You keep staring at it. Cut it off.”
“What?” Brendan tried to adjust to the sudden change in topic and also the knife in Katie’s hand.
“My hair,” she said, like it was obvious.
It really, really wasn’t. The conversation had shifted beneath him wildly. He was sure it made sense, somehow, but he didn’t know how to follow it. The look on Katie’s face only confirmed his suspicions. “H-h-how much.”
“The dyed part. A little quicker on the uptake please?” she said, clearly exasperated.
“What the fuck, Kate?” he demanded.
“I know we’ve always wanted each other, no matter how much our lives and our other choices made that hard or impossible or, just, the absolute worst idea. But if you want this thing between us to have the remotest possibility of working, then you need to want me as I actually am, and not just as the girl who figured out how to win you a gold medal by being incredibly different than she actually was.”
Brendan reached out a hand and, when she didn’t withdraw hers, closed it around her wrist. “What if I told you I’ve always wanted both of them? That there’s never been a difference to me? That I knew what you were doing — always — and I loved you for it, public and private.”
Katie dropped the knife into his palm and undid the elastic at the end of her braid, shaking her hair out. “Well then. Let’s see.”
Brendan was intensely grateful for all the years he’d spent helping Katie do her hair for competitions and performances. They meant an impromptu haircut was not, perhaps, as strange as it might have otherwise been. Even sawing through her thick hair with a knife was not as difficult as he’d expected.
“This is really sharp,” he observed.
“Sharp knives work better. And they’re safer. Of course it is.”
Trust Katie to turn even this into a lesson in practicality. Brendan smiled to himself.
The next few moments were silent except for the wind moving in the grass and the soft sound of their breath. When he’d cut away all the dark hair, Brendan ran his fingers through her hair to comb out the last loose strands. Katie shivered, which did nothing to help his equilibrium.
“All right, all done,” he said.
She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him. Her gaze was sharp and her hair was messy, hanging unevenly at her chin. But it was all honey blonde now, the color it had been when they were kids.
Without another word, Katie looked away from him to bend and twist, gathering up the dark hanks of her dyed hair that had fallen in the grass. She threw them in the fire. The flames hissed and cracked, and for a few seconds smoke, acrid and chemical, billowed out of the pit.
Something animal in Brendan recoiled at the smell while something human in him recoiled at the sense of magic that pervaded the darkness.
“It looks good,” he said. That was true, but he was mostly speaking in hopes of feeling less frightened.
“Does it?” Katie was peering at him again, less unkindly than before.
“Yes.”
She seemed to make a decision. She stood from where she was crouched, feral, by the fire, brushing her hands off on the sides of her dress, as if there was more than hair there, the residuum of a spell Brendan didn’t entirely understand. “You should prove it to me then.”
Impelled to follow her, he rose to his feet without thinking. “I really want to kiss you,” he said breathlessly. “Can I?”
Chapter 19
SECONDS LATER
By the Firepit
KATIE NODDED, RELIEF and want washing over her like a wave. The air around them had grown so strange since she’d pulled out that knife and burned her hair.
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” she said as a wild laugh bubbled up from her chest.
“Neither do I.” Brendan wrapped his hand around her wrist. His fingers were strong, his hands rougher than they’d been before he’d done so much farm work. His voice was filled with gentle wonder that seemed to chase away whatever Katie had summoned with her impulsive decision about her hair.
Suddenly, she felt like she had the freedom to do what she wanted, and, for the first time in months, she knew exactly what that was. Her eyes went hard, like they sometimes did on the ice when she and Brendan were at their best. She yanked out of his grasp.
Brendan took a placating step back.
That’s not what I want at all. Katie followed him and grabbed his face as hard as he had grabbed her arm. His evening stubble pricked against her fingertips as she went up on her toes to kiss him.
His mouth was soft and warm and yielded eagerly to hers. But then he tried to say something.
Katie pulled back a millimeter. “Is there anything I need to know?”
Brendan shook his head with a comical eagerness.
“Excellent,” she said. “Because unless you have an objection, I’m going to need you to shut the hell up.”
“Oh, thank God.” He laughed as he seized her around the waist with one arm and dug his other hand into her newly-cropped hair.
It hurt, in the very best way, and Katie gasped into his mouth. Brendan had turned the tables on her so easily.
“Good?” he asked.
Katie growled. Her body being weak for him had always, only, made her stronger and hungrier — for joy, for victory, and for her own perfect pleasure.
“Good,” she said.
She and Brendan echoing each other happened on the ice all the time. Katie hadn’t expected it here, but there was no reason for him to stop knowing her, inside and out now that they were about to go to bed with each othe
r. She just had to trust him. And herself.
He kissed her again, roughly, his tongue sliding along hers and their mouths fitting together as if they’d been made for each other in all their many facets. She loved Brendan when was kind and pretended he needed her in order to be ambitious. But she also loved Brendan when he was a man who could throw her around and be proud of it. Sometimes, she thought he was afraid of the fiercer version of himself, and that fear got in his way. But maybe that was why he was also so simply and damnably decent, and why she was able to be here with him now.
Tonight, she didn’t want Brendan’s sweetness or gentleness. She wanted him to devour her. She wanted the all-consuming desire they portrayed on the ice to play out here and now.
Unable to tear their mouths away from each other, they stumbled towards the house. Katie was glad; she wasn’t going to have sex with Brendan for the first time in eight years in the grass. But she was almost dizzy with desire. The house seemed awfully far away.
Suddenly Brendan spun her and pressed her against something. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she glanced over her shoulder to see what she’d landed against. Her truck.
With her head turned, Brendan pressed his mouth to the side of her neck. I’m not the only one who’s impatient, she thought victoriously. The kiss stung as he grazed her skin with his teeth. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she dug her fingers into his back.
“House is too far away,” he mumbled against her skin.
“I agree, but are you seriously going to fuck me against the side of my truck?” Her voice quavered as Brendan dragged his nails up the side of her thigh.
“Would that work out for you?” he asked.
Oh, game on.
“Sure.” She hooked a leg up over his hip to show she meant it. They’d had a spin in their Harbin free skate that was supposed to suggest what this actually was. On the ice, the space that was barely between them, the anticipation, the possibility, had won them gold. But this, and the dissolution of that space to come, was better.
Brendan slid his hand further up her leg, bringing her skirt with it, his palm warm and firm against her bare skin. “Condoms?” he asked.
“Glove compartment,” she said against the salt of his neck. A girl had to be prepared. Although it was basically an accident that she was prepared. Her fantasies hadn’t looked like this.
Brendan pulled back and stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Seriously what?” Her leg was still wrapped around his waist, and she could feel the hard length of him pressed against her. The last thing Katie wanted right now was a conversation about anything.
“You gave me all that grief about hooking up at the Olympics and you have condoms in your glove box?”
Katie rolled her eyes and pressed her hips against Brendan’s, to see his breath catch and his eyelids flutter. “It’s a good thing I know you’re not serious,” she said. He needed to stop complaining and do as he was told. The payoff was going to be great once he did. “Can you just go get them?”
Brendan pulling away from her, even to yank open the door of the truck, was torture. She shivered from the absence of his touch and listened impatiently as he rummaged around in her vehicle.
There was a pause, a moment of complete stillness, and then she heard him start to laugh. She grinned to herself. It was her favorite sound in the world, and she knew exactly what he was reacting to.
Brendan came around the back of the truck, holding a strip of condoms emblazoned with the Harbin Olympic logo. “Okay ... I have to ask ... again ....” He struggled to get the words out, he was laughing so hard.
She reached out reflexively to him as she started to dissolve into hilarity herself. Brendan dropped the condoms into the truck bed behind them and took her hands in his. Still laughing, he kissed the back of her wrists. Their eyes met, and Katie felt herself melting. This, right here, was what made them such a good match: Their ability to take any moment, any emotion, and be in it so fully together.
Not always fun, she thought, but always perfect.
She pressed her forehead into his chest as they both heaved for breath and tried to quiet themselves.
“I can’t believe you took Olympic condoms for a souvenir,” Brendan said. Katie could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to let them go to waste because we were too busy winning to do anything else. Just because I’m prepared,” she added, “doesn’t mean I’ve had a ton of opportunity.”
Brendan grew serious and cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking the skin beneath her cheekbones. “You always had opportunity with me.”
Katie shook her head. “Please don’t make us talk about the past right now.”
“Not remotely on my agenda.” Brendan ran his hands fiercely down her sides and rucked up the loose skirt of her dress. When he went to his knees, he took her black cotton underwear with him.
“Hey, uh, warning,” Katie said, stopping him with a hand to his shoulder.
Brendan looked up at her. “Yeah?”
His brow was creased, his gaze distracted. He didn’t look like he remotely cared about anything except touching her. Katie wondered why she just didn’t let him. But some guys were assholes, and while she was pretty sure Brendan wasn’t — at least not in this particular way — better to know now than in about two seconds.
“You know how I didn’t keep dying my hair?” Katie had no idea why she was being delicate about whether she shaved or waxed or whatever when she was hopefully about to have Brendan’s face between her legs.
“... yeah?” His fingers traced circles behind her knees.
“That’s not the only skating queen maintenance I stopped doing.”
“Oh. Okay ... wait. Why is that a warning?” He looked genuinely confused. Katie loved him so much.
“In case you care.” I hope you don’t care.
“I care about getting my mouth on you in every possible way,” Brendan said firmly.
“Okay then.” She shrugged. He better have meant it, or she was going to be angry. She didn’t have time for anyone, even Brendan, being squeamish.
He flipped up the hem of her skirt and pressed his face against her. He slid his cheek and lips across the hair there. “See?” he said. “I don’t mind.”
“Well thank goodness for me.” That established, Katie was done waiting.
She stepped out of her underwear and put one booted foot on his shoulder. He looked up at her, his eyes bright and delighted and needy. This moment was like skating, too — not this exact pose; among other things she’d have cut his shoulder with her blade — but the charged air between them and Brendan ready to serve her with whatever she needed.
Brendan’s face said he felt it too. Katie’s eyes met his and their gazes locked. Her heart pounded in her chest and her pulse echoed between her legs, waiting. As Brendan frowned in concentration, Katie brushed her fingertips across the fine lines on his forehead. Neither of them moved, poised with anticipation. Katie could hear their breath as it synced up in the calm evening air — like it always had when they were about to do something incredible together.
Before Katie was prepared for it, Brendan grabbed her bare ass with both his hands, digging his nails into her flesh. He nosed against her sex, and she could feel the rush of his breath against her. He moaned like he was drunk with the scent of her. Katie echoed him, overwhelmed as she was with arousal at the very idea.
She shivered at the first soft touch of Brendan’s tongue on her. The contrast between the cool of the night air around her bare legs and the wet heat of his mouth was overwhelming. Breathe, she reminded herself, but her lungs didn’t want to comply. The sensation, already, was too much. She gasped sharply.
Brendan pulled back enough to pant against the skin of her hip. “Good?” he asked.
Obviously.
Katie did what she’d wanted to do for so long. She dug her hands into his hair until she could feel the strands tight aro
und her fingers and pulled his mouth back to her. The sound he made was half gasp, half needy whimper. She wanted him to make that noise again and again and again. She dug her boot more firmly into his shoulder.
As she gripped him tight, Brendan ghosted his fingers up her thigh, across her stomach, and down, telegraphing his intent. Katie bit her lip. She was about to shiver apart from his touch and the anticipation.
Brendan worked one finger into her, then another. Katie closed her eyes in relief. His hands, that she’d known and trusted and wanted for so long, were on her and in her, exactly where she needed them to be. His tongue was hot, wet, silky, against her.
The sky above them was dark and full of stars, but her awareness of anything other than Brendan was fading; Katie could feel it happen, the same way her awareness of the audience and the judges vanished right before a skate. The world kept narrowing around her until it contained nothing but the man kneeling at her feet.
She hovered at the edge of orgasm for what felt like hours, Brendan’s tongue warm and perfect, his fingers sure and skilled. He was tormenting her, keeping her right on the edge, and he was absolutely doing it on purpose.
She hated him, and she loved him, and she had no idea how she’d gone so long without him.
With one last flick of his tongue, with one final twist and thrust of his fingers, Brendan finally let her come. Katie twisted her head to try to muffle the cry that escaped her throat. Her legs were shaking; her heart was pounding. Her skin was too fragile a barrier to contain everything she felt. If Brendan’s hands hadn’t been digging into her thighs, if she hadn’t been braced against the truck, she would have fallen.
She looked down, and Brendan met her eyes. Falling wouldn’t be so bad.
“Done?” he asked.
She scoffed. The question would have been appalling from anyone else, but Brendan was just being ridiculous and dear and making sure she had exactly what she wanted. Which she didn’t. Not yet.
When her legs felt like they could support her weight, she swung her foot back to the ground and pulled Brendan upright by his shirt. She kissed him — his face wet and messy from her pleasure — like she needed him to breathe. The faint taste of herself on him was like lemons and salt.
