Page 91 of Back Outside Edge

“It makes a difference, baby.” I don’t know if it should, but it does. If he’s going to continue to kill himself with his need for redemption over the next four years, I’m not sure I can live with him, watch him do it. He’s been lucky so far, but sooner or later, that luck is going to run out. I'm more aware of that than most.

I want him to have his perfect moment, of course I do. I’ve done everything I can to help him achieve it. But if he doesn’t, will he ever be happy? Could I live with it, watching him break himself down in person?

“I’m not going to quit skating.” His eyes are stubborn, through the haze of lust, as if he thinks I’m asking him to give up his greatest love.

“I don’t want you to.” I give him a deeper kiss this time, an apology for letting him believe I’d do something like that. “Not unless you want to. I’ll never ask for that, but I need you to find a more balanced approach to it. I’m happy for you to keep skating competitively. You have a gift, and I’m not selfish enough to ask you to stop giving it to the world. I just… I need to know you’ll take better care of yourself. That you can prioritize something other than the pressure the world puts on you.”

He wiggles, and something about the motion makes it clear this isn’t about sex anymore, so I let him go, and he wraps his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder. “It’s hard.”

“I know, baby.”

“I’ve been trying not to let the pressure get to me, not to think about how much the U.S. is relying on me. Or how it seems like every single person I run into wants something from me. But it’s hard.”

“I know.” I do. The bright light I love dims every time he’s in an interview where the reporter pushes too far. “I’m here to help, however I can, but if you keep putting the pressure ahead of yourself, you’re going to burn out.” It’s a miracle he hasn’t already flamed up and smothered.

“Ok.” He nods into my shoulder.

“Ok what?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be ready to retire after this season, but I promise I’ll do better. Even if I’m still skating competitively.”

“What if you have another bad day?” I don’t want to ask, don’t want to speak the words into existence, but I have to know. He has to think about it, determine what it will mean if it happens. Learn to recognize that a bad day doesn’t define him.

“Then I have a bad day.” When I don’t answer, he laughs, a little breathlessly, and his arms tighten around me. “Fuck, Evan, that’s all it was, isn’t it? A fucking bad day.”

Chapter 35

Stefan

Ihave never felt so light, so relieved. So like I’m walking on air. Like the weight of the world has fallen off my shoulders. Out of nowhere.

No, not out of nowhere. Out of me finally listening. Out of me being so desperate for Evan to agree to move in with me that I was willing to accept a truth so many people have tried to tell me.

That the disaster performance wasn’t some kind of referendum on me. It doesn’t prove I was a terrible skater when it counted. Doesn’t say anything about how I always fold under pressure.

It was just a bad day. A bad day I’ve allowed to become so much worse because of that pressure. That I’ve been beating myself up over for four years.

But maybe—maybe the ice was just a bit too slippery that day.

I’m hugging Evan, laughing, probably sounding unhinged.

I feel unhinged. Like everything I’ve ever known has changed. The world has turned over and the light is brighter. Evan’s wonderful, comforting scent is stronger. The toothpaste I used more minty. I meet Evan’s eyes, and they blur in front of me. I’m crying.

The good kind of crying. The best kind of crying.

“It was a bad day.”

He nods, looking confused.

“Evan! That’s what it was! A bad day!”

“I know.” He doesn’t look any less confused, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s about ready to ship me to an asylum. “That’s why I said it.”

“But—” I whirl out of his arms, spinning around in the confined space of the bathroom, laughing, out of nowhere. Maybe he should rethink that asylum thing. “That’s it! I get it now!”

A smile tugs at the side of his mouth when I stop to look at him again, but it’s there because I'm happy, not because he understands yet. He’s mostly still confused. “Ok? I’m lost here, baby.”

I reach in, holding his face in my hands as I kiss him. Hard. Then let go and dance around him, into the bedroom. “Thank you.”