Fighting for the Edge (13 page)

“I know I would’ve,” he said immediately. “There’s no excuse for cheating. Even being reunited with the love of your life.”

She’d normally think a guy was all talk if he said something like that, but she believed Chris really meant it. With all the angst she’d experienced because of her dad’s cheating, hearing there was still an honest man out there gave her a warm feeling of hope. The same sensation she’d been feeling more and more around Chris.

“You think I’m full of it,” he said.

She realized she’d been staring at him with who knew what kind of expression on her face. “No, not… not at all,” she stammered.

She’d seen how many girls had flirted with him when Marley hadn’t been around at competitions. He’d always been nice, but he’d never encouraged them.

“If I’m with someone, I’m all in.” His eyes locked on hers. “I would never betray that person.”

Her mouth grew drier, and she forced a swallow. “Sadly, I think you’re a rare breed.”

His lips curled just enough to show a hint of his dimples. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

He really needed to stop. He needed to stop doing and saying things that made her want to kiss him until she couldn’t breathe.

She peeled her eyes away from his smile and put them on the movie. “I do want to see how the rest of this plays out, although I have a good idea.”

“The end is pretty depressing, so feel free to turn it off before then if you want.”

“Uh-oh. That kinda confirms my suspicions.” She slid the remote control across the leather cushion. “Let me know when I should change the channel.”

She’d be happy to avoid any additional love scenes, too.
No more romantic movies
, she thought adamantly.

****

I stretched my leg across the bleachers and massaged my right hip. I’d taken a couple of hard falls on the quad Salchow that morning at practice, but I’d also landed seven clean ones. My success rate was getting higher every week. It couldn’t happen at a better time with our departure for nationals coming in just eight days.

Aubrey climbed up to my spot in the top row and chugged from her large bottle of water. Beads of sweat shone on her face and neck, and her ponytail sagged onto her back.

“I saw you going hard in the gym,” I said. “You looked like you were racing the Tour de France.”

She pushed up the sleeves of her T-shirt and took another gulp of water. “I had a lot of energy to let out.”

“You’re going to need a nap before the party tonight. You have to be awake for midnight.”

She groaned. “Nick is so ridiculous, insisting that I find someone to kiss. Just because I’ve happened to kiss someone at midnight the years we won gold at nationals doesn’t mean there’s a correlation between the two. He takes superstition to an all new level.”

“It is pretty ridiculous. He said there’d be a lot of people at the party, though, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a hot guy to help you out.”

Aubrey stayed quiet and fiddled with the cap on her bottle, snapping it open and closed. She was more annoyed by Nick’s demand than I’d expected. She’d never been bothered by kissing random guys on New Year’s before.

“You’re sure you and Sergei don’t wanna come with us?” she asked.

“No, we’re looking forward to our quiet evening alone. My parents said they won’t be home until after midnight, and Liza will be at her sleepover. Sergei thought she should spend the evening with us, but she begged him so hard to go. Since she’s been having trouble with her friends in New York, we thought it would be good for her to spend time with the new friend she made here.”

“Poor kid.” Aubrey frowned. “If I was at her rink, I’d have some words for those girls.”

“Like you did for the ones who were bullying me when we first met at skating camp?” I laughed.

“Exactly. Except I wouldn’t use scratching and hair-pulling as my main tactics this time.”

She headed for the locker room, and I turned my attention to Courtney and Mark running their long program on the ice. I’d coached the pair with Sergei until the previous season when they’d moved up to senior level. They were Sergei’s most promising young pair at only seventeen and nineteen years old, and they had a good chance to make the Olympic team. Since I’d coached them for four years and we’d formed a close bond, it would make the Olympics even more special if they were part of the team with me.

Chris stopped at the foot of the bleachers and called out, “Think fast.”

He tossed one of the two bananas he was holding in my direction, and I caught it before it landed in my lap. “Ready to answer the same questions we’ve gotten fifteen hundred times?” he asked.

“Maybe this reporter will surprise us,” I said and took the steps carefully down to him.

“I’ll bet you twenty dollars we’re asked how confident we feel about the quad.”

I peeled my banana as we walked to the front office. “Umm
…
yeah, I’m not taking that bet.”

We huddled around the phone in the office, where the staff had said we could do our newspaper interview. Piles of papers and binders covered the desk and filled the shelves lining the small room, making it feel even smaller.

Chris took a bite of his banana and looked at his watch. “We have a few minutes.”

“So, will you be charming all the ladies at the party tonight?” I asked. “Finally getting back out there on the dating scene?”

He chewed slowly and took his time answering. “I don’t know. Life is good right now.”

“Oh?”

“I’m just doing my own thing… hanging out with friends…” He kept his eyes on the desk instead of on me.

“You and Aubrey have been hanging out a lot.”

“Well, we live together. It’s convenient.” He laughed, but it was sort of a nervous laugh.

“I know, but I’m surprised you’re getting along so well.” I watched his face closely. “I didn’t think you had much in common.”

He threw his banana peel into the trash can and pulled the phone closer to him. “Sometimes not having much in common makes things interesting.”

He pressed the speaker button and dialed the reporter’s number. As it began to ring, I continued to study him. The way he’d avoided looking at me during our conversation more than piqued my curiosity. It wasn’t like Chris to be anything other than direct.

Something was definitely up between Aubrey and him. Which one of them could I pry the scoop from first?

Chapter Eleven

“Welcome to the soiree.” Nick put his arms around Aubrey’s and Chris’s shoulders.

Aubrey couldn’t see much of the décor with the throng of people packed into the living room and kitchen, but what she did see looked swanky – polished wood floors, fancy artwork on the walls, and an elaborate chandelier in the dining area. Nick’s friend-of-a-friend must have a nice-paying job to afford such a huge apartment on Beacon Hill.

She took off her long black coat, and Nick let out a low whistle. “I have the hottest partner in the business. No doubt.”

Her silver beaded mini-dress showed off plenty of leg. When she’d seen it on sale a few months earlier, she’d known it would be perfect for New Year’s Eve because of its bling factor. Chris seemed to be wowed by it too, considering the ogling he’d done before they’d left their apartment.

“You’re a doll.” She kissed Nick’s cheek and then wiped away her deep red lipstick stain.

“In that dress you’ll have a line of guys waiting to kiss you at midnight.” Nick took her coat and passed it to Chris. “Come with me. There are a few eligible bachelors you need to meet.”

“I feel like you’re pimping me out,” she said.

Nick steered her away from Chris, and she turned to give him a little wave. He offered a weak smile.

The first guy Nick introduced her to turned her off right away. She could barely breathe from the cologne bath he’d taken. When he paused to sip from his beer, she excused herself to get a drink in the kitchen. She also took the opportunity to scope out the room for Chris. In her five-inch strappy heels, she didn’t have to crane her neck to see over the crowd like she usually did.

She spotted Chris talking to a pretty brunette, and she took two steps forward to interrupt them before stopping and making a beeline for the kitchen.

Leave him alone. Let him have his own fun.

After being connected to him at the hip for the past week and a half, that was hard to do, but she stayed in the kitchen and surveyed the drink options. While she poured a glass of red wine, a super tall guy with curly blond hair smiled at her from across the narrow island.

“Hi, I’m Greg.”

She finished pouring and smiled back. “I’m Aubrey.”

“How do you know Hunter?”

Who?
she thought, and then she remembered he was the party’s host. “Oh, I don’t. My friend Nick sorta knows him.”

“So you haven’t been here before, then?”

She took a sip of wine and shook her head. “It’s a sweet apartment.”

“There’s a rooftop garden that has a great view of the fireworks. Hunter only lets a few people know about it so it doesn’t get too crowded.”

“And you’re one of the special people who know?”

“Now you are, too.” He winked and smiled.

She thought ahead to midnight and her task at hand. Greg was certainly kissable from a looks standpoint – cute, no overpowering cologne, nice set of teeth – but the wink reeked of cheesiness, and his eyes weren’t giving her a genuine vibe. Plus the idea of kissing anyone except a certain dark-haired guy across the room didn’t appeal to her at all.

“So what do you do, Aubrey?” Greg came around to her side of the island. “Let me guess – you’re a model.”

Oh, goodness. The cheese is getting thicker.

Not in the mood to go into her usual spiel about skating, she took a different approach. “I’m an interior designer.”

She’d watched enough decorating shows to be able to wing it until she could lose him. The guy wasn’t interested in her occupation anyway. That was apparent from the fact that his eyes were spending more time on her body than her face.

She asked him what he did for a living and emptied her glass while he rambled on about the pharmaceutical sales business. She couldn’t help but think she’d much rather be home cozy under a blanket and watching TV with Chris. He’d gotten her hooked on reruns of
Seinfeld
, and she’d sucked him into her obsession with
House Hunters
on HGTV. Who knew being a nightly couch potato could be so much fun.

“Don’t you think so?” Greg asked.

She’d completely zoned out and had no idea what he was talking about. “I’m uhh… I’m gonna go freshen my makeup. It was good talking to you.”

Not her smoothest exit ever, but she didn’t care. She looked at her watch. Another hour of empty conversation lay ahead. Maybe she could hang out in the bathroom for a while.

She took her time reapplying her lipstick and repositioning the bobby pins in her hair bun. Nick accosted her as soon as she reentered the living room, and he worked the two of them into a small circle of people. She eventually ended up in a one-on-one with the guy standing next to her, and Nick gave her a thumbs-up behind his back.

This guy got credit for not checking out her legs every two seconds, but she still wasn’t feeling him. Her attention drifted to Chris and the brunette locked in deep discussion near the dining table. They must’ve really hit it off to talk that long. She took a long drink of her wine, but it couldn’t wash away the bitter taste in her mouth.

As midnight neared, she decided her best option was to go up on the terrace where maybe Nick wouldn’t find her. She could just tell him she’d kissed someone. There was no harm in lying about a dumb superstition.

When she saw Greg and a few others heading out, she threw on her coat and followed them. Greg had found himself a curvy redhead, so he wouldn’t be bothering her. They took the elevator up to the top floor and exited through a door at the end of the long hallway.

Ice covered all the planters where she assumed flowers sprouted in the spring and summer. She stood in the corner of the terrace and checked her phone for any new messages. There was a text from Marley wishing her a fun night and saying she and Zach were at a party at their coach’s house. It contained lots of exclamation points. At least someone was having a good time that evening.

She dropped the phone into her small black purse and stared out at the lights of Cambridge across the Charles River. Maybe the fireworks would put her in a better mood.

“There you are,” she heard behind her.

She turned and saw Chris shrugging on his jacket. He was alone. Her mood felt slightly better already.

“How’d you know about this place?” she asked.

“The girl I was talking to, Megan. She told me about it.”

Her spirits shifted downward again. “Is she on her way up?”

“I think she’s coming with some friends. Her boyfriend called so she was talking to him. He’s stuck in L.A. on business.”

Spirits soaring back up! She felt like she was riding the Space Mountain of emotions.

Chris continued, “She’s from Baltimore so we were talking about where we went to school and stuff. Turns out we know some of the same people.”

“That’s cool.”

Chris looked around as he buttoned his jacket. “You’re out here alone?”

She paused and lifted one eyebrow. “Uh-oh. You mean you don’t see all the other people?” She gasped. “Am I a ghost whisperer?”

He laughed. “I meant you’re not with anyone.”

“Nope. But you can’t tell Nick or I’ll have to kill you.”

He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip as he stared at her. “I’ve never been a superstitious guy, but do you really wanna tempt fate in an Olympic year?”

“Are you telling me I need to find someone to kiss in the next–” She looked at her watch. “Two minutes?’

“Well…” He glanced down at the ground and then up at her. “You could use
me
… since you let me use you at the club in Tokyo.”

Her voice stuck in her throat, and she had to inhale and exhale an icy breath before she could reply. “Yeah… that would work.”

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” the other partygoers shouted.