Page 62 of A Gold Medal in Love

“Hey,” I grab her attention for one final time.

She only turns to me and raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“You deserve it—the hockey and the girl,” I explain.

Charlie searches my face and then finally nods, a small smile teasing the corner of her lips. “So do you.”

“Are we sure?” I ask in hesitation.

“Yeah, idiot. You take care of everyone around you—even if some of us don’t like it and actively try to make you stop.” Charlie grumbles at this last part. “You don’t think that you’ve more than earned your fair share?”

“You know the rules. Everyone deserves it except me.” I grin to cover up the sadness.

“Stop being a pick-me,” Charlie scowls. “You’re taking home a silver. Why not take home a gold-medalist, too? For the record, I’m not talking about me. I think Olive would be pissed, nevertheless how fucking wrong and weird that would be.”

“Ew, stop. I only kiss you in friendship,” I respond, only to the easy part of Charlie’s assertions.

“Yeah. Maybe we can work on not,” she glares at me and then irons her face out. “Go win the other game, Captain.”

I nod, then allow a smarmy smile to overtake my lips. “Imani won’t say no; who wouldn’t want this hot body on their arm?”

“You’re fucking disgusting. Bye!” Charlie salutes and leaves for real.

Time to watch my heart and soul win the gold. But first, consoling my teammates, and before I have a date with a charmingly bratty woman, I have a rendezvous with a shower beer.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

IMANI

For the firsttime in a long time, I feel like this ice time is just for me. When I step out onto the glassy surface for the free skate—the big show—I’m full of resolve instead of anxiety.

Sure, the morning started poorly. When I came to the arena, the first thing I did before I got into costume and makeup was to weigh myself. This routine is emblazoned into my brain, but it’s been painful for these two weeks. My body feels stronger with the calories Blake is feeding me; that is evident, but I’ve been watching the scale climb. It doesn’t matter that it’s only by a slight margin; when those numbers increase, the following behavior is that I cut my food intake. I live by the rule that you see your input as output two days later—and the reflection of those blinking numerals are taunting me every single day.

This morning, after I weighed myself, I broke down and cried, walking into the shower so I could clutch my shoulders to my chest and curl up in the fetal position.

But now I’m here, in my happy place, my handsome Dominant waiting at the gate in their all black suit and tie, hair slicked back into an artfully low bun.

This skate may not be what I would have chosen for myself, but it’s for me. This isn’t for the audience, for Mummy, or evenfor Blake—this is step one of giving to myself. I’m skating for me, and it’s been a fuck of a long time since I did that. The catalyst might have been Blake—they gave me the soft and loving support system I needed—but I am the arbiter of my fate, and I’ve done this all on my own.

So I skate like I’m gifting myself something precious—the first act of love I’ve shown to myself in a very long time.

And when I make my final pose under those stark lights, my face is covered in tears. Laughing, I skate my way over to Blake, picking up a bouquet and waving to the crowd as I go.

Blake beams at me, holding open both the gate and their arms. “Why are you laughing, Cupcake?”

“Oh, just thinking of how my tears are going to be torture for you,” I explain as I tuck myself into their embrace, whispering my words. “I just bet you want to lick them off of my face and then fuck me in the middle of the arena.”

Their laugh reverberates through my chest. “You’re not wrong, but why are you crying?”

“Listen, no one ever said loving yourself was easy,” I respond, finally pulling away so that I can slip on my guards. Then I take their hand and tow them over to the kiss and cry.

Blake startles in surprise, but quickly pulls themself together, grabbing the accursed Gatorade they’re always trying to feed me, and then squeezes my hand, allowing me to lead.

Damn, being in charge feels good, even if I’m just posturing. I sit down on the bench, pulling them down next to me. “You look fucking hot. If it wouldn’t cause an international incident, I’d be down for public sex,” I reveal, blinking up at Blake through my lashes coquettishly and fingering their tie.

Blake looks down at me with wide and surprised eyes. “Hey, Cupcake, not that I’m not super into this right now, but we are 100% on camera right now. Even not micced up, everyone around the world is watching you undress me with your eyes.”