Fighting Their Attraction

by Nicole Flockton

  “Look, I probably should’ve faced you and Belle a long time ago.”

  “True. So why now?”

  “Fuck if I know. Lousy timing. Looks like no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to avoid my past.”

  The announcer began to call out Belle and Bohdan’s score, effectively killing the conversation. As Brady listened, his smile grew. Australia’s chances of winning a medal in the team event was unlikely, but this performance would give the duo a good confidence boost for their main event in a couple of days.

  “They’re going to do well,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, they are,” Simon agreed. “They’ve worked hard.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Brady had to leave. There was still time for him to get in a couple practice runs before his qualifying event tomorrow. “Listen, I need to go. But maybe in all the craziness that is the Olympic Games, we can talk, you know?”

  “Maybe.”

  He held his friend’s gaze. When Simon nodded, Brady relaxed. He couldn’t turn back now. He’d taken the first step. A step he’d have sworn was impossible when he landed in PyeongChang.

  A few hours later, he watched the opening ceremony in his room. He’d made the decision not to participate because of his event the next day. No way was he going to jeopardize his medal chances by staying out late. Yeah, he was disappointed—he wanted to be walking into the main arena with the rest of his team. But he would only be thirty, almost thirty-one, by the time the next Olympics rolled around, and there were plenty of guys still competing at that age. Barring serious injury, there was no reason he couldn’t be on the team in four years. If his heart was still in it, of course.

  He leaned back against the soft cushion of the couch and closed his eyes. God, he was tired. After his talk with Simon, he’d run through the course numerous times, until he believed he couldn’t do it any better. Of course, the weather conditions could be completely different at the time of the event. But he would adjust. He’d done it at the X Games. It was the qualifying round. He only had to score enough to get into the next round. Save his major tricks for the medal round.

  Fatigue washed over him, and he fell into a light doze. Images of two people skating around an expanse of ice coalesced in his mind. Their faces were blurred, but they moved in unison as they flowed over the ice with the elegance of two birds floating on a breeze. The couple built up speed until the man hoisted the woman into the air and spun them. Her arms stretched wide, her head raised as though the sun warmed her face. She slid down her partner’s body as he set her back down on the ice. Her hand caressed his face, and his caressed hers. When they turned to face the imaginary audience, their faces came into focus.

  He and Arielle.

  Brady jolted awake, his heart racing as though he really had just completed a routine with Arielle.

  Dammit, not another dream where Arielle was front and center. This was beginning to become a regular occurrence. He should’ve been dreaming about his competition routines. Not Arielle. How would it look if he failed on one of the biggest stages in the world? He needed to think with his head and not his hormones.

  He focused his attention back on the television as the Canadian team walked in. The camera panned and, with unerring accuracy, locked in on Arielle’s smiling face as she waved while the people around her took selfies. The camera moved to another person, and Brady slumped back against the couch.

  What did his dream mean?

  Not once had he dreamed about being back on the ice, and definitely not with a partner other than Maybelle. He scrubbed his hand down his face. His life was fucking up, and he had no idea how to stop the out-of-control train he appeared to be on.

  Brady picked up the remote and turned the television off. He stood and stretched. He had a big day tomorrow. He was here to represent his country in snowboarding, not ice skating. His skating days were over.

  Chapter 6

  Excitement buzzed around Arielle as she climbed the stairs to her seat. She might be making a big mistake by coming to the Phoenix Snow Park, where Brady was competing in the slopestyle qualification round. It had never been her plan to watch him compete. Maintaining her distance seemed a good idea after the disaster following their kiss a few nights ago. But she’d woken up with the need to see him compete firing through her synapses. Probably compounded by the steamy dream she’d had of the two of them in bed together.

  Now here she was, sitting with her fellow Canadians in the athletes’ seat allocation, waiting for the event to start.

  Tina sat next to her. “Want to tell me why we’re here? I’m sure we’re not freezing our butts off due to a sense of patriotism.”

  Arielle laughed. “You ski out in the open every day. Quit your complaining.”

  “When you’re skiing you don’t notice the cold. Just like when you’re on the ice you don’t know how damn cold it actually is.”

  “I promise I’ll come watch you and freeze my butt off cheering for you.”

  “Ha, like your mom would let you. She’ll have you practicing until you can’t see straight.”

  Yeah, Mom hadn’t been too happy with her delaying practice today. Back in Sochi, Arielle had never been able to see any of the other events. This time, she was making the most of her Olympic experience.

  “Well, we’ve reached an understanding…of sorts,” Arielle said as she scanned the crowd for anyone else she knew. The chances were unlikely, but it saved her from having to look Tina in the face.

  “Right, and I’m going to win the giant slalom as well as the slalom event.”

  “Of course you are. You got bronze in Sochi for the giant. You’re going to do two better this time. And you’re going to blow the competition off the ice in the slalom as well.”

  “Off the ice?” Tina laughed at her faux pas.

  “Fine then, off the slopes.”

  The announcer’s voice boomed around the open area, and the big screen at the end of the course lit up with a welcome message.

  The adrenaline spiking through Arielle increased, and butterflies fluttered to life in her stomach—a feeling she usually only experienced before she was about to skate. Surely, she wasn’t nervous for Brady. Was she?

  “Ahh, I thought this was the reason we were here.”

  “What?”

  Tina jabbed her in the side and pointed to the big screen. Arielle caught a glimpse of Brady’s smiling face before it panned to another athlete.

  “So what?” Arielle shrugged. There was no point in trying to lie. “I wanted to come see Brady. What’s the harm in that?” She was opening up a can of worms, but it was too late to take it back. She would have to deal with the consequences. No way was Tina going to let it slide.

  The silence stretched between them. The look on Tina’s face was one Arielle couldn’t interpret.

  “Go on, give me a lecture,” she said. “I know that’s what you want to do. It’s what everyone wants to do.” She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice.

  “Brady is a complicated guy,” Tina stated. “And the Olympics isn’t a place where true love can be found.”

  “Oh my God, you think I don’t know that? Sheesh, when will everyone stop treating me like I’m fourteen instead of twenty-four? I may not have had a serious boyfriend before, but I’m not naïve or”—she lowered her voice—“a virgin like I’m sure everyone thinks. I know Brady’s complicated. I’ve been told only a strong woman can handle him.”

  Tina’s hand landed on Arielle’s leg, and she squeezed, which was difficult through the layers Arielle wore. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I know how much you want to win gold, how much you’ve given up, and I don’t want you to get distracted by Brady and all his drama.”

  “How about you give me the inside scoop? I saw some of what the press reported, but you never know how accurate that truly is. I want to know what you think.”

  Tina shifted in her seat a bit before sighing and facing her. “Brady and Maybelle used to be partners. B
ut Simon was always with them.”

  Did she mean “partners” as an ice skating duo, or “partners” as in boyfriend and girlfriend? If they were a skating duo, the routine she’d spied Brady doing a few days ago would make sense. She’d suspected at the time it was a pairs routine.

  “Explain. And explain now.”

  “Fine.” Tina huffed out a breath. “I’m still surprised you don’t know about them. Your mom would’ve certainly been aware of their partnership.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she was, but Mom’s focus has and will always be on the ladies’ program. She’s not interested in pairs or ice dance. I was never given the chance to see if I’d like to do either one. She pushed me to compete in the singles competition.”

  “I always knew your mom had tunnel vision when it came to you. Anyway, before the Vancouver games, Brady and Maybelle had won the junior pairs world championship. Everyone picked them as the favorite to win gold at the Olympics.”

  “I believe they would’ve won gold,” Arielle asserted.

  “How? You didn’t even know they were partners until now.”

  Should she tell Tina she’d seen Brady skating? He hadn’t been pleased when he’d seen Arielle skating toward him. He probably didn’t want it getting out that he’d been on the ice.

  No, she couldn’t betray him. If he’d wanted the world to know he still skated, he would’ve done it on a public rink. What she’d witnessed had been something very private. And she would keep it that way.

  “How did Simon fit into it? I know he’s only ever competed in the men’s single competition.” Hopefully, Tina would run with this question.

  “Simon was Brady’s best friend. There were rumors swirling around that Brady and Simon were an item and Maybelle was a cover for their relationship.”

  Relief swept through Arielle that Tina hadn’t questioned her further. But shame on those gossiping morons for not minding their own damn business. Not every guy who skated was gay. “I don’t believe it. Why would anyone make that sort of thing up?”

  Tina shrugged. “Rivals? I don’t know. Anyway, a few months before the Games, Brady turned his back on ice skating and his friendships. After the Games, he popped up on the snowboarding scene and has been making his mark there ever since.”

  So the tension between the threesome made sense now. If Arielle were into making assumptions, she would’ve guessed that Simon had a crush on Brady. And because they would’ve spent so much time together, it was possible Maybelle had a crush on Brady, too. Although, after watching the dynamic between the three of them a couple of nights ago, she didn’t think any of them felt anything but hurt now.

  A roar from the crowd drew Arielle’s attention to the big screen and the cameras following the first competitor coming down the slope. They were sitting in the stands close to the finish, so she was able to see only the last jump ramp of the course in person.

  A groan resonated among the spectators when the snowboarder missed his landing on the second jump and slid down the slope on his butt a few feet before regaining his footing. The crowd clapped and cheered when he crossed the line.

  “Do they get a second chance?” Tina asked.

  “They have another run. The highest score from both runs determines who gets through to the final round and who doesn’t. Only the top twelve will be competing for the medal. This guy won’t get a huge score, but they will score him on what he completed. If he does an amazing second run, he still has a chance to continue.”

  “Well, look at you, all up on the intricacies of slopestyle scoring. I wonder why?”

  “Shut up, Tina,” Arielle mumbled, watching the screen as the next competitor came down. She wasn’t about to admit that she’d read everything she could about scoring in both the half pipe and slopestyle.

  There were a few impressive runs. The top scores ranged from the mid to low 80s. She guessed, with another round still to go, that the judges were being conservative in their scoring. The next person up was Brady. Currently, the top score was eighty-five; all he needed to do was get that or higher and he would be through to the final round.

  “He’s going to do great.” Tina linked her arm through Arielle’s, giving her silent support.

  “I know,” she responded.

  On the screen, she watched as Brady pushed off and started down the hill. He was as graceful on the snowboard as he was on skates. The first time he boarded up a ramp, she closed her eyes. Tina squeezed her arm, and Arielle opened her eyes to see him still upright. To her untrained eye, the spins and jumps he performed looked clean and well executed.

  The crowd was cheering loudly, and she joined in clapping and calling his name as he came to a halt, snow arcing high in the air before floating down to the ground.

  Brady waved and scanned the crowd. With her seat in one of the back rows, the likelihood of him spying her was next to impossible, but for a split second she was sure he saw her when his hand stopped mid wave. As he gave his head a shake, she imagined he was telling himself he’d been seeing things.

  “No, I’m here,” she whispered.

  Brady sucked in air and kept his emotions under control. The run had felt amazing. He’d gotten good air in his jumps and had nailed his landings. The twists and turns on the rail portions had been clean.

  He scanned the crowd and waved, faltering when he noticed a woman standing and cheering in the Canadian contingent.

  Arielle?

  No, he had to be imagining it. No way would she be here watching him. Yet the sun glinted off the sable hair that had occupied a lot of his dreams the last few nights.

  “Scoring an impressive 88.9 points for his first run, Brady Thompson, representing Australia,” the announcer’s voice blasted around the open arena. The crowd cheered, and Brady waved again, giving a last look up at the group wearing the Canadian sweat suits he’d first seen Arielle in when they’d arrived at the airport.

  He picked up his board and headed back up the mountain to prepare for his second run. Prior to his first run, his muscles had been loose, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He should’ve been even more relaxed now that he’d broken the ice on his Olympic journey. Instead, all he could think about was Arielle—was she really in the stands, or had he conjured her up?

  The gondola came to a stop, and he hopped out and went back into the waiting area, where the guys were chatting among themselves. There were at least another ten competitors in this round before the second could commence. He had time to refocus his energies on ensuring his second run was as flawless as his first. Although, he’d pretty much guaranteed his spot with the first run.

  In all the time he’d competed on the X Games circuit, Brady had never let thoughts of a woman distract him from his job. And this was his job. It wasn’t a hobby. He’d made good money riding this board down the slopes. But fate could be fickle, and he’d best remember that. No point in chancing his dreams and goals for the sake of a figure skater.

  Closing his eyes, he mentally envisioned the run again. When he got to the first jump, he could bend his knees a little more to get more air. Down the second rail, he could possibly sneak in another half turn. It would mean coming off the opposite side than he usually did, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

  By the time his name was called for his second run, the mental exercises had worked and a sense of calmness floated over him. He stepped up to the starting grid and placed his board on the ground. Once he’d secured his feet, he took a couple of deep breaths, focused his eyes on the expanse of white in front of him, and pushed off. The first brush of cold air hit him in the face.

  God, he loved the freedom of boarding down a mountain. The first jump approached, and he crouched to increase his speed. He hit the ramp perfectly and executed a flip before landing smoothly on the snow.

  He was slightly off center when he hit the ramp for his final jump. He got air, but not enough to execute the double twist. Instead, he amended it to a single twist. He hit the snow with a bounce an
d wobbled before straightening and crossing the line.

  “Fuck,” he muttered as he slid to a stop. He unclipped his shoes and grabbed his board, slapping his hand against it in frustration.

  The crowd’s cheering faded to white noise as he glared at the scoreboard, waiting to see the score. Dirk, his coach, would no doubt make him go over that last jump again and again, until he got it right. Brady had no problem with that.

  “Scoring 83.2 points on his second run, Brady Thompson, representing Australia.”

  Okay, so that wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it was going to be. It was nice to see the “Q” beside his name, signaling he would be heading into the medal round. His first-round score would probably get a bronze. He needed to do better if he wanted to win gold. Or his competitors would have to have bad runs.

  With a final wave to the crowd, making sure he avoided looking in the direction of the Canadian group, Brady made his way to the area where the rest of the slopestyle competitors were congregating. Where he knew Dirk would be.

  Time to start the postmortem.

  “Brady! Over here.”

  The voice sounded very much like Arielle’s but was most likely a snow bunny wanting to hook up with an Olympian. He should ignore it. Nothing good would come of acknowledging the call. He didn’t want to get too caught up in the fans, not yet at least. After tomorrow’s final, he’d more than happily interact with the crowd.

  Yet, an invisible chord tugged at him, and he turned, stopping in his tracks when he found it was Arielle calling his name and waving at him.

  He approached her on autopilot. This was a mistake. Arielle represented a temptation he kept reminding himself he should ignore. But ignoring it was difficult, especially when it was what he wanted.