Page 4 of Losing an Edge


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“I THINK THAT’S good enough for today,” Ellen Simpson—the woman I’d recently chosen to be my new figure skating coach—said. She glanced down at her watch. “Why don’t you two spend the rest of our time practicing your stroke, trying to match each other? They’ll want their ice back soon.”

Anthony Young squeezed my hand and winked down at me, his every movement reassuring and comforting.

I steeled my spine and nodded. I’d made it through everything else to this point. There was no good reason—none at all—why I couldn’t handle a few more minutes skating at Anthony’s side, even if we might be a bit too close for my comfort.

Together, we took a breath. Then we pushed off as one, heading toward the opposite end of the ice from where my brother’s team would soon appear.

It was New Year’s Day, so the ice rink where Anthony usually skated was closed. Cam had made special arrangements with the Storm for us to use their practice facility for today’s tryout skate, but they had practice coming up shortly. If Anthony and I chose to work together beyond today, we’d do it at his regular rink and not at Storm headquarters.

“You feel as good about this as I do, don’t you?” he asked once we were out of Ellen’s earshot. “Please tell me you do. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Part of my certainty has to be due to the fact that I want this pairing to work out, but there’s more. There has to be more. Don’t you think?”

“It felt right within the first couple of minutes.” As right as I believed myself capable of feeling with a new partner, at least. But Anthony didn’t need to know my insecurities. There was no reason for me to let on precisely how anxious I’d been about the whole thing, or that my nerves went a heck of a lot deeper than typical new partner discomfort.

Anthony sighed and gently nudged my hand, drawing me in front of him so we were skating in a closer hold. He settled his right hand on my waist, taking my left in his as we continued striding in almost perfect sync. It wouldn’t take us long to learn one another’s tendencies, to breathe in time with each other. Not as long as I was able to let go of the past and remember that Anthony was not Guy. They weren’t the same man. I couldn’t put the years of Guy’s behavior on Anthony’s shoulders. He wasn’t meant to carry it.

Besides, I already knew Anthony’s skill level was on par with mine, and he knew the same about me. The two of us had been opposing each other in international competitions for years. We were each aware of the areas in which the other excelled and those where the other struggled. We could come into our new partnership with both eyes wide open.

When I’d heard through the grapevine that Anthony’s partner, Tamara Whitby, was retiring to start a family but Anthony wanted to continue with a new partner, I’d picked up the phone right away and called Ellen to set something up. I couldn’t run the risk of someone else reaching him before me, and he would be in high demand. Everyone involved was aware there were issues we’d have to work through, not the least of which was the problem of my citizenship, but none of that would matter at all if we weren’t compatible as partners. The skating had to come first; the rest would follow.

“We can make this work,” he said now, gently squeezing my hand.

“We can. We absolutely can. And we will.” I had to. No matter what, I wasn’t going back to Guy. Not ever. I would give up skating completely before I would do anything as drastic as that.

After we made a turn around one end of the ice, Anthony released my hand to pick me up in a lift. I settled my hands over his and tried to focus on keeping my core strong, but it wasn’t any use. This was the first time in months that anyone had lifted me on the ice. The first time since the last time I’d skated with Guy. A thousand painful memories raced in front of my eyes, making it impossible to breathe. Something chemical inside me caused me to shake, and I couldn’t make it stop.

Faster than I expected, Anthony had me safely back on my skates. “Too soon?” he asked, spinning around in front of me so we could look at each other. “I just… Never mind. I shouldn’t have tried that yet.”

I wouldn’t pretend I didn’t understand what he was asking me. He was aware, of course. At least, he knew as much as anyone did. Some parts of the situation, I’d kept to myself. But word of these things had always traveled fast in our world. When a partnership like I’d had with Guy came to an end, whatever was public knowledge about the breakup—true or not—spread like wildfire. And since we were the reigning gold medalists, there was no hiding the fact that I’d decided to move on. I only hoped the whole world didn’t know the full truth about why I’d made my decision.

Still, if Anthony and I were going to make a go of this, I had to get over myself and learn to trust him. A line my sports psychologist had repeated again and again for the last several months hit me now: trust is a choice. In both my head and my heart, I knew Anthony was not Guy. I had no reason to distrust Anthony, and every reason to give him my trust. I simply had to choose to do it.

Simply. Ha ha.

So I would. Right at this moment. I bit the inside of my cheek to focus on the here and now. Then I squared my shoulders as I looked up at him, shaking my head. “It’s all right. We’re going to have to do this a lot if we’re going to have any shot at making this work, aren’t we?”

“That’s no reason to rush you.”

“It’s fine, Anthony.” I took his hand again to emphasize my words. “Really. I’m fine. I’m not a crystal vase, ready to shatter at a moment’s notice. You don’t have to be so careful with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, but his smile softened the words. “Ellen beat that into my head years ago. My partner and her safety are in my hands. I’ve got to treat you with the utmost care.”

I blinked a few times to ward off the tears threatening to fill my eyes. Crying would only prove he was right, that I was delicate and fragile. That I was one fall or missed hand connection away from breaking. Shattering.

That couldn’t happen—I couldn’t fall apart, and I couldn’t let him think I was on the verge of it, either. I refused to allow it.

The big double doors at the other end of the rink banged open, and deep, rumbling, masculine voices flooded the space. Time for us to clear off so the Storm could have their practice.

I’d hoped we would be finished and well off the ice before the team arrived. I didn’t mind running into Cam, but I wasn’t so inclined to see Levi Babcock right now. Not after the way I’d sprinted away from him without explanation last night at Keith Burns’s party. The thing was, Levi had smiled and flirted with me the same way Guy had done so often early in our partnership, and the similarities gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Only I didn’t know if my gut instincts where Levi was concerned were warranted or if I was putting my prior experiences with an abusive ass on him for no good reason. I needed to talk to someone about him. Someone who knew him—but not Cam. My brother would likely murder his teammate before there was any good reason to do so. That was one of many reasons I’d never told Cam anything about all that had gone on between me and Guy. He was aware of my injury, and that I’d decided to make a change at the same time. That was all.

The team started to come out on the ice, and Koz cursed—something about all the holes in the ice from our toe picks. Without another word, Anthony and I headed for the door Ellen was holding open for us. I took a seat on the aluminum bleachers near the ice. Anthony sat next to me, and Ellen stood in front of us, leaning back against the boards as we undid our laces. More laughter than cursing filled the arena as my brother’s teammates headed out for their practice.

Cam caught my eye and winked at me. I nodded at him, trying to smile, but then Levi skated up alongside him. He said something to my brother, but then he waved at me. I ducked my head. This was not what I wanted to happen. I wasn’t ready for it—for deciding if I could trust my instincts about men. Yeah, six months had passed since I’d made up my mind and left Guy, but six months wasn’t too terribly long. Was it? Could I learn to read a man’s intentions, to see into his heart, in such a short amount of time?

I wasn’t so sure.

Ellen zipped up her sweater and crossed her arms, shivering. “So, I think it’s a good idea for the two of you to spend some time together off the ice, too, getting to know each other. And then I’ll talk to each of you—separately—in a few days, so we can see where everybody stands.”

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