Page 27 of Back Outside Edge

“So were you. That was incredible.”

“Oh, shut up. I'm not even in the same realm.”

Does he really believe that? How can he possibly believe that? “Evan. You were amazing. What are you even talking about? I've never seen anything as beautiful as that skate.”

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, and I shake my head at him.

"I am serious. You have a gift that puts the rest of us to shame."

"Says the man who very nearly landed a clean quintuple toe loop." He squeezes me again, then lets go, shaking his own head. "You're a legend."

"Hey, maybe that's the music I need to pick for next year's program. I am Legend."

Evan starts laughing, and I laugh right alongside him, both of us way too high on adrenaline.

Chapter 12

Evan

The medal ceremony is a sight to behold. Stefan on top, Max Sennhauser to his right, and Takei Kan to his left. Stefan glows through the ceremony, cries through the anthem, and cheers as loudly for the other men as they do for him. They all exchange hugs and slaps on the back. Nobody seems to begrudge Stefan his place. Not that I’d have expected them to, not after what he did; we’re all still in shock.

The big surprise of the free skate, for me, anyway, is that I came in eighth. Somehow, magically, against all odds, I managed to not only break into the top ten, but with a couple slots to spare. I’ve been doing interviews with Canadian media since the moment my scores were announced and we all knew I’d qualified two for Stockholm, which is surreal. I’ve done an interview or two in the past, but never like this. Never with breathless excitement on the part of the interviewer.

I'm walking back toward the hotel, on the phone with my ecstatic parents, when arms come around me from behind, all but tackling me to the ground, then catching me again.

“Omph.” It's a voice I recognize, in one huff. If I hadn't already known who it was by the tingles that shot through me the moment those arms wrapped around me.

“Stefan, what the hell?” I turn around, still in the tight circle of his arms, trying not to laugh.

"I fucking did it," he crows, and I fight the return smile, raising my eyebrows and pointing at my phone with my free hand.

Red streaks up his cheeks, and I give in, grinning into the all-consuming, sparkling blue staring at me from inches away.

"Hey, Mama, Papa, I've got to go. Give everyone hugs. And tell them, 'Thank you.' I appreciate the support." The words are relayed, and in the background, yet another cheer rises from the watch party. My hometown, doing its best to make me cry, filling me with warmth.

When I hang up, Stefan still hasn't let go of me. He's not quite hugging me, but one of his arms is around my shoulders, and I'm chest to chest with him. The contact is thrilling, and heat courses through me. “Shouldn't you be out celebrating with your team or your dad or somebody?” I ask, pushing through the weight that’s settled on my chest, tightening my lungs, at his presence. He's just so... beautiful. Flushed and proud and so, so happy.

He shrugs, and the arm around me tightens a bit. “Later. I wanted to catch you before you left.”

Oh my God, he remembered I'm leaving. God, get a grip on yourself, Evan. Of course he remembered; I'm sure he’s been counting down the days until he has the room to himself. “Thank you. That's sweet.”

“I don't think ‘sweet’ is the word for it.” He grins at me, full sunshine. “Unless we're talking about you, I guess.”

“Me. What do I have to do with sweet?”

"You have everything to do with sweet. I couldn't have done it without you." The words set my own cheeks flaming, and I duck my head.

“You could have. You can do anything,” I mutter, the weight on my chest growing with every word he utters.

“Honestly, I think I just got lucky. Judges could have gone either way with letting me have that or not.” Ok, that’s easier. We’re veering away from the topic of me. We’re also no longer facing each other, which makes it easier to breathe.

Instead, we're walking again, heading back to our hotel. His arm is still around me, an anchor keeping me grounded and a balloon setting me soaring all at once. Focus. I shake my head. “Nah. If they pulled too many points away from you, they would have had a rebellion on their hands, and they knew it. It wasn't perfect, but it was awfully close.”

“They could’ve scored it as a fall.”

I knock him with my elbow, since he’s all but pressed up against me. Not as gently as I could. “You got in five full rotations, Stefan. And you almost held on to that landing. It was so close. Don't fake humble me.”

He snorts out his little half laugh. “You've never met my dad, have you?”