Fighting Their Attraction

by Nicole Flockton

  Mom shrugged. “The possibility is always there. He’s Australian. He must go home sometime. Not to mention his X Games commitments. I would never see you.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  There it was, the root of the problem. Mom wasn’t worried about Arielle quitting skating. She was more worried about not having her close by. Her parents had lived their lives through her. She loved her parents fiercely, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend her whole life with only them. She wanted to experience the highs and lows of her own relationship. The joy of finding that one person who was meant to be hers. The joy of learning and living and growing in a relationship. The joy of bringing a new life into the world and, together, nurturing the child to follow his or her own dreams.

  Arielle closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around her mom. “You’ll never not see me. I wouldn’t do that to you. I might move away, but I would always visit you and Dad. You’ve been the best parents a girl could ever have. Sometimes, I do get angry and feel like you and Dad stifle me. But I would never turn my back on you. Please believe me.”

  “I saw you, you know.” Mom’s words were muffled against her shoulder.

  “Pardon?” Arielle dropped her arms.

  “You and Brady yesterday after you won silver for the teams event. You were all celebrating at the Italian restaurant.”

  “I didn’t see you there.”

  Mom nodded. “I know. But I saw the way you looked at him and the way he looked at you. The air fairly sizzled between the two of you.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating, Mom.”

  “Really? So you didn’t sleep with him last night?”

  “Mom!” No way was she going to discuss her sex life, even though she’d been tempted to blurt it out earlier. “Yes, Brady is good-looking, and I’m attracted to him. That doesn’t mean I’m going to marry the guy and move halfway around the world. You need to relax and give me some credit for knowing what’s right and wrong for me.”

  Mom sighed. “As your mother, I can only warn you that Brady is the type of guy who will take his good times when he can and move on.”

  “You can’t know that,” Arielle protested, even though… How many times had she been warned that he was a player? Although, she’d seen no evidence of it during the Games. He’d brushed off the girl who was practically salivating at his feet at the athletes’ lounge the night he’d had the run-in with Maybelle and Simon. He could’ve taken the girl up on her offer, but instead he’d left with Arielle.

  “All I’m saying is, don’t get caught up in the buzz of the Olympics. Nothing good can come of giving in to an ill-conceived attraction. Remember you’re here to win gold, not find love.”

  “I know. I haven’t lost sight of the end result, no matter what you think.” And she was getting tired of everyone thinking she couldn’t have both—a gold medal and a fling. A blustery cold breeze whipped up around them, knocking ice droplets from the trees. “It’s cold, and I need a shower. Let’s go, Mom.”

  Chapter 10

  Brady was on a mission as he scanned the occupants of the athletes’ lounge. After a grueling practice session with Dirk, his body ached, and he wanted nothing more than to crash for the night. Sleep was what he needed to enable him to perform at his best tomorrow. He had a gold to win, and dammit, he would. He may have robbed Australia of a certain medal in the pairs skating in 2010. He owed them at least one gold.

  Before he could keep his private vow to the selection committee, he needed to end whatever it was he was sharing with Arielle, for his sake and hers. It wasn’t like they had a future together anyway. His stomach churned.

  Arms slid around his waist. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

  Six words, and he was sporting a hard-on. He willed his flesh to settle down. He couldn’t let that part of his anatomy do the thinking for him. He turned and took a step back, grabbing her hands as he did.

  That was a mistake. Damn. Her hair was in a side ponytail again. Her navy-blue fluffy sweater clung in all the right places and showcased her perfect breasts. The breasts he’d taken great pleasure in touching the previous evening. She had on navy leggings and her fur-lined boots. Everything about her was gorgeous.

  Her shiny red lips beckoned him. Giving in to temptation, he leaned forward and touched his lightly against hers, pulling away quickly so he didn’t deepen the kiss and give everyone in the lounge one hell of a show.

  It broke him that he had to walk away from her. But it was for the best. He couldn’t afford another performance like he’d had today. There were no second chances tomorrow.

  He straightened his spine and steeled himself. “We need to talk, Arielle.”

  She cocked her head to the right, as if trying to determine his tone. “Uh, sure, let me grab my jacket.”

  She walked off before he had chance to stop her. All he wanted to do was say his piece and get out of there. Although, telling her he couldn’t see her again in a roomful of people was a dick move, and hadn’t he decided he wasn’t going to be a dick to Arielle?

  He glanced to his left and saw Maybelle watching him. Are you okay? she mouthed. He nodded. No way was he going to get her involved in this. She had her own competition to think about.

  “Let’s go,” Arielle said as she returned. With a lift of his hand in Maybelle’s direction, Brady cupped Arielle’s elbow and led her to the door. With a deep breath, he pushed it open.

  If Arielle thought it weird that he didn’t take hold of her hand as they walked out, she didn’t say anything. The less physical contact with her, the better it would be for him.

  “What’s going on, Brady?” she asked after a few minutes of wandering around the village square. “I saw that you qualified for tomorrow’s final in the half pipe. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, I just made it. If Marcel hadn’t crashed I would’ve been out.” He couldn’t hide the anger. It still burned him how badly he’d performed.

  “All that matters is you’re in the finals. You’ll nail it tomorrow.” Her happiness grated on him, and he had no idea why. It wasn’t like she was speaking to him in a different tone than before.

  He stopped. They could keep walking, but then he would be drawn back into thinking he could have it all. The girl. His sport. And the gold. He couldn’t, though. He’d almost bombed out of his event because he’d believed he was invincible. He’d become overconfident. The best for both of them was to end this now. Arielle stopped as well and looked up at him, the happiness that had been radiating off her gone. Hopefully, she would find it again.

  “What’s going on, Brady?”

  Brady ran a hand over his head, dislodging the black beanie he wore. It fell in a quiet plop on the snow-covered ground. He left it there, welcoming the coolness surrounding his head. “I can’t do this anymore,” he started.

  “Can’t do what?”

  Of its own volition, his hand rose to touch her cheek. She took a step back, as if she knew what was about to come next. He let his hand fall to his side. “Be with you. It’s messing with my head. I don’t normally do what I did last night before I compete.”

  “Do what?”

  Brady sighed. He didn’t want to spell it out. “Sleep with someone. You.”

  Confusion flashed across her features, before her eyes narrowed. “Wait just a minute. Are you blaming me for your poor performance today, Brady Thompson?”

  He deserved every arrow of fire she was tossing in his direction. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Really? So what exactly did you mean, because it certainly sounded that way. I wasn’t anywhere near you today. I wasn’t riding that snowboard, you were.”

  He was fucking this up ten ways to heaven. Why had he ever thought getting close to a woman was a good idea? He’d steered clear of commitments with the opposite sex quite successfully over the past years.

  Why now?

  Why here?

  Why with a figure skater?

  Life before the Games had
been easy and uncomplicated. Now he was walking through a minefield, all because he’d given in to an attraction to a woman.

  “Clearly, you have nothing else to say on the matter, so I’ll say it.” Arielle poked him in the chest. “You have so much emotional baggage, you don’t know a good thing when you have it. You can’t spend your life blaming other people for the way your life has turned out. You’re the only one responsible. I saw you on the ice, Brady. You loved it out there. You belong there. Snowboarding is a means to an end. An escape you cling to because you don’t want to face what really drove you away from skating. Bye, Brady.”

  Arielle swiveled and stomped away, her words echoing in his head. Was she right? Was snowboarding an escape for him?

  No.

  He enjoyed the freedom it gave him, didn’t he? Brady shook his head. The night before he competed for Olympic gold wasn’t the time to be questioning his passion for the sport he’d been traveling around the world with for the last few years. He had a competition to win and, regardless of what she thought, he was going to win. Once he had the medal around his neck, everything would make sense again.

  The morning of his event dawned bright and clear. The sun was shining, and the air was crisp. Brady closed his eyes and visualized his routine. Being the last qualifier, he was listed as the first competitor in the final. Normally, he was either in the middle of the field or later. He always had a fair idea of how the others had scored and what he needed to do to win or at least place highly. These were unchartered waters for him.

  “You ready, Brady?” Dirk asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Dirk slapped him on the back. “This is your event. You know this. Do your thing. Relax and let your body take you through the motions.”

  Brady nodded. Dirk was right; he had this. He picked up his board. “See you at the end.”

  He walked out to where he would push off to start his run. He blocked out the crowd and focused on taking in slow, measured breaths. He rolled his shoulders to loosen his muscles, before squatting down and up again to relieve the tension building in him.

  I’ve got this. This is my event. I own the half pipe. I will win gold.

  His name was called, and Brady got into his starting position. When the buzzer sounded, he pushed off and slid down the steep slope before gliding up the other side. He gripped the edge of the ice and flipped his legs in the air. He started off with a basic trick, easing his way up to the more difficult slides across the top of the pipe and the air twists he would finish with. The surface of the half pipe was smooth. With each jump and slide, his confidence built, and he finished with a flawless spin.

  His heart raced, his lips stretched into a wide smile, and he pumped his fist in the air.

  Fuck yeah.

  Eyes focused on the big screen, he examined the replay of his run. He couldn’t see any mistakes, but he was biased. He suspected the judges weren’t going to give him a super high score, considering he was the first competitor. They would be reserved, and he would have to pull it all out on his second run.

  The number 93.4 flashed up on the screen. Shit, they had given him a good score. Brady fist-pumped the air again and waved to the crowd. Now he had to sit and wait and hope that when it came to the second round he’d still be in the lead.

  An hour and a half later, Brady paced around the small athlete area. The last competitor was about to take the pipe. He couldn’t believe he was a couple of minutes away from possibly winning Olympic gold. He’d scored eighty-nine on his second run, so if this last competitor scored anything higher than Brady’s opening score, he would be relegated to silver. Brady wouldn’t be happy with a silver; he’d come for gold.

  The crowd cheered as the German pushed down the side of the pipe. Brady turned away. He’d never had an issue following his fellow competitors through their routines. But this time, he wanted gold so badly he couldn’t stand to watch, in case his dream was ripped away from him.

  A groan went through the crowd, and a hard slap landed in the middle of Brady’s back. A chorus of congratulations were directed toward him.

  Brady turned and looked at the television screen to see a replay of the boarder as he slid down the pipe on his butt. The reality of the situation settled in.

  He’d won.

  He’d fucking won an Olympic gold medal.

  Laughter bubbled up inside of him and burst out. “Yes! Woo-hoo!” he shouted. The rest of the guys hooted and hollered with him.

  Dirk came rushing up and grabbed him in a hug. “Well done, son. I knew you could do it.”

  Brady slapped the other man on the back. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks, Coach.”

  “No thanks needed. I enjoy every minute of it.” Dirk gave him a little shove. “Now, Olympic champion, go out and acknowledge the crowd.”

  “Right on.” Brady gave his coach one last quick hug before he made his way out to wave to the crowd. People were cheering and clapping for him. Emotions overwhelmed him, and tears filled his eyes as he acknowledged the praise.

  He’d done it. He was now an Olympic gold medalist.

  It was impossible to make out the faces of the people assembled to watch the event, but Brady looked anyway. He knew the chances of Arielle being there were slim. Still, he couldn’t help but hope she sat among the Canadian crew. But he didn’t see her.

  As wonderful as the victory was, it was a hollow victory when the one person he wanted to share it with was not here.

  Chapter 11

  Arielle stood, hidden from prying eyes, as the national anthem of Australia resounded around the open area. Tears filled her eyes as she watched Brady sing along with his country’s song. Even from her position, she could see the telltale glisten of tears in Brady’s eyes. Who wouldn’t cry when standing on the top dais at the Olympics? The culmination of every athlete’s dream was to experience this exact moment. In fact, she hoped in a week’s time she’d be standing on the center dais, tears pouring down her face as “O Canada” blasted through the ice skating arena’s speakers.

  Once the anthem finished, she backed away, hoping to get ahead of the crowd as they moved to the next venue. For her, it was back to the village to get her practice gear before she headed for another grueling run-through.

  Today, her heart wasn’t in it. Despite trying her hardest, she’d begun to fall in love with a train wreck. Which was a ridiculous notion—she’d known the guy for ten days. So what if they’d slept together and it had been the best moment of her life? In all likelihood, she was caught up in the excitement and adrenaline of the Olympic Games. Her emotions were a mirage that would disappear the second she got back to her real life. Or actually ran into that spineless rat who’d had the nerve to blame her for his problems.

  “Where are you running off to? Aren’t you going to go congratulate Brady?”

  Darn, so close to escaping.

  She pasted a smile on her face and greeted Simon. The guy had an uncanny knack for always being around when Arielle didn’t need him. “Uh, no, I need to get back to the village. I’ve got a practice to get to.”

  Simon canted his head to the side. “What’s going on, Arielle?”

  She sighed. If she tried to fob the man off, he wouldn’t let her go without finding out why she watched Brady but didn’t approach him. “Nothing’s really going on. I don’t think Brady will want to see me.”

  “Did you two fight?”

  This conversation needed to end. There was no way she was getting into a discussion about Brady with his former friend. “No. Look, Simon, I’d really like to stay and chat, but if I don’t get out of here, Mom’s going to pitch a fit.”

  She made to walk away when his hand landed on her arm. “Arielle?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Don’t give up on him, okay?”

  Her mouth dropped open. What the hell? “Why aren’t you telling me to run the other way?”

  Simon shrugged. “Look, Brady is
a complicated guy. But he seemed different around you. He seemed happier and at peace. I don’t know what went on between the two of you, but I think you’re good together.”

  Arielle stood there with her mouth gaping open, her heart wishing his words were true. How many times had she heard that Brady was a complicated guy? Too many to count. But guess what? She’d handled him. “Right. Well, thanks for that.” The need to get away was overwhelming. Simon was giving her hope when she was well aware there was no hope at all. Even though Brady had won gold today, deep down, he would always see her as a distraction and the person who had almost cost him his dream. No way did she want that responsibility on her shoulders. “Good luck, Simon. I’ll see you around.”

  But she couldn’t escape the words as they ran on a continuous loop through her mind.

  She’d come.

  Arielle had come to watch him compete.

  Why?

  After what he’d said to her last night, why would she do that? He wanted to rush after her, especially since she looked distressed after her conversation with Simon. What had he said to her to cause her that pain?

  He marched over to Simon. No one hurt Arielle.

  Hello, pot, meet kettle. You hurt her last night, you dickhead.

  “What did you say to her?” he demanded once he reached Simon’s side.

  “Congratulations on the win, Brady. You were awesome out there. Almost as graceful as you are on skates.”

  Simon’s calmness and the small smile playing on his lips brought Brady up short.

  “Uh, thanks, but you didn’t answer my question. What did you say to Arielle to upset her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. Nothing doesn’t make her look like she’s going to cry.”

  “No, that’s your job, isn’t it?”

  That knocked the wind out of Brady’s sails. Yeah, he was a hypocrite to accuse Simon of the very thing he’d done. “Touché.”