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Luciana
A handfulof the media channels we’d invited out to the arena were already there before we’d even arrived. More trickled in as we put on our skates and went through our warm-up. By the time we were ready for the actual performance, we had a whole row of reporters waiting for whatever we had to show them, the cameras in their midst blinking little red lights.
As I took my position between Jasper and Quentin, my chest tightened. I had to make a conscious effort to loosen my lungs with deep breaths. It was way too late to turn back now. We’d either pull this thing off or make total fools of ourselves, only compounding the disgrace we were in with the skating community.
Dios mío, let it be the first option.
I stared down at the ice for a moment as if I could see right through it. We’d only had a matter of hours to practice the hastily choreographed routine, not weeks or even months like we normally would have.
But Niko had made it as easy as possible on us by using moves from our existing routines in similar arrangements, just figuring out simple ways to expand and combine those elements—ways that were more about artistry than complex physical stunts. Iknewwe could handle every part of it.
We had to show the world the real beauty of our collaboration.
Jasper glanced over at me. His sea-green costume both contrasted with and complimented the flame-red one Quentin had on and my own pearly pale get-up. Since we didn’t have matching costumes for all three of us, we’d gone with an array instead, and Niko had taken that visual aspect into account with the choreography.
“Are you all right?” my partner asked.
I shot him a quick smile. “Yeah. Nervous, but we’ve got this, right?”
The corner of Jasper’s mouth curled upward. “You bet we do. This’ll be a heck of a lot easier than some of the moves we’ve pulled off in the past.”
I couldn’t help laughing at the truth of his statement. “No kidding.”
Quentin rolled his shoulders. “We’ll go out there and skate and then head home. Let the reporters and the skating officials make whatever they want of it. After we do our bit, it’s not up to us anymore.”
I exhaled in a rush. “Sounds good to me.”
If Jasper could smile through this—grumpy Jasper who had once scowled through a week’s worth of practices—then couldn’t I? If Quentin, the cocky asshole of the year, could come up with an idea that could bring us all together, how could I do anything other than believe in it?
I squared my shoulders. For them, I would fly to the moon just to snatch them a handful of stars.
Niko motioned to us from the stands, where he had the music ready to play. He was beaming as cheerfully as ever, but I could tell the crowd of reporters was getting antsy.
I nodded, and the three of us shifted into our opening poses. My blood pounded through my veins, but I let the rhythm lift my spirits rather than rattling them.
Just make it through this, and then we can go home. Just believe in the plan. Believe in the men who’ve stood by me through so much.
The song started to drift through the PA system. With the opening notes, the crowd of onlookers melted from my mind. All that was left was Quentin and Jasper, and the knowledge that Niko and Rafael were watching from the benches, full of love and support.
I allowed myself to be taken in by the gentle melody as I drifted gracefully across the ice. Between my two lovers, I could imagine that I floated in a soft bubble of protection that was much more tender than the world outside.
It was a short routine, about the length of a typical short program, but we were making the most of it—and of our trio. I spun from Quentin to Jasper and back again. Their hands lingered on my sides, my shoulders, love glowing in their eyes.
We pulled off a triple Salchow in perfect sync, three blades clacking against the ice with our landing in time with the music. My men whipped around me and grasped me on either side.
This was one of the trickier parts of the routine, but we’d kept the lift itself simple, knowing that having two men as the base would be a spectacle in itself. Quentin and Jasper hoisted me into the air by my calves and then my feet, holding me above their shoulders as we glided forward. I arced my arms gracefully through the air.
As they lowered me, I risked a glance at the audience. Everyone’s eyes were glued to us, still and silent as they took in our performance.
Was that awe on their faces or doubt? Quentin swirled me around and sent me careening toward Jasper, and for a second, I lost track of my feet. I reached Jasper at a slightly wrong angle, off-balance for the spin we were meant to complete.
I wobbled—and Jasper’s strong arms managed to right me. He swung me around, and my body loosened again as I felt it lock into the right position.
It didn’t matter what the spectators thought.Weknew that what we could make together was beautiful. If they couldn’t see it, it was their loss.
We pranced across the ice in a swift sequence of footwork. I caught a brief sway from Quentin, who’d stretched himself the most to learn this specific section of the routine, but he caught himself so quickly I wasn’t sure the audience would even have noticed.
We were moving in harmony, totally aware of each other’s presence, totally united in our love and our passion for our art.
