Life on the Edge (18 page)

Coaches often didn’t attend the show, so I wasn’t counting on seeing Sergei at the arena. If I did see him, I didn’t know what I’d even say.

The gold medalists wouldn’t skate until the end of the Exhibition, so I sat in the lounge backstage at the Fleet Center and watched the show on the monitor, keeping one eye on the door. With no sign of Sergei, I donned my royal blue dress and prepared to take the ice.

The arena lights were down for the event, adding to the “show” atmosphere, and the crowd erupted as soon as Chris and I stepped into the spotlight. When the announcer introduced us as national champions, chill bumps sprang up on my arms. It was the first time I’d heard the title spoken with our names.

We’d chosen “Blue Dress” by Depeche Mode for our program, and a new confidence ruled my expression of the romantic movements. Skating as champions had lit an extra spark under me; I sensed it in Chris, too, as we flew across the rink.

We left the ice to a standing ovation, and as we put on our skate guards, Sergei came out of the shadows in the tunnel. My heart rate, which had started to simmer down from the performance, shot back up.

“Nice program,” Sergei said.

“Did you see the size of the twist?” Chris walked toward the bin of bottled water down the hall. “And under spotlights!”

I fidgeted with the straps of my dress and watched Sergei’s expression. He smiled at Chris’s comment but grew serious when he angled toward me.

“Do you know somewhere we can talk privately later? Away from the hotel.”

“Um . . .” I thought quickly. “We could go to the Public Garden. I doubt anyone will be out there.”

“Why don’t we meet at the T station at seven?”

The next three hours felt like a week. I showed up at the underground platform ten minutes early and smiled at the sight of Sergei studying the large system map on the wall. He spotted me, and his lips twitched upward.

“The show today was great,” he said.

“Yeah. Everybody had a lot of fun.”

Small talk seemed so ridiculous, but we couldn’t have a heart-to-heart in the station. Sitting beside Sergei on the train, I rambled about ideas for Courtney and Mark’s new short program. If I kept talking, I wouldn’t think about how I wanted to reach over and touch him, feel his arms around me again.

Mounds of ice coated every bench in the Garden, so we strolled along the shoveled path. We were almost to the footbridge over the frozen lagoon before Sergei stopped and spoke.

“Last night I said some things I never thought I’d admit to you.”

“Do you regret saying them?” I asked in a low voice.

He stared at me for a long, aching moment. “No. But I understand if you’re having second thoughts.”

A number of doubts had crossed my mind after my talk with Aubrey, but hearing Sergei’s certainty and seeing it in his eyes, I didn’t hesitate to answer, “I want this. I want to be with you, too.”

He glanced around us and then wrapped me in his arms. I pressed my face to his jacket’s soft leather, inhaling the richness of its scent mixed with Sergei’s spicy cologne, a dizzying combination.

Sergei stepped back, and the frigid night air replaced his cozy embrace. “It’s not going to be easy. We have to keep this quiet or we could face some serious backlash.”

“I told Aubrey last night, and she threw every possible bad scenario at me.”

“And you’re still here with me.”

“I can’t turn back now. Not after knowing how you feel.”

Sergei’s eyes danced over the area again, and he took my hand, guiding me out of the moonlight and under a canopy of snow-covered trees. He kissed me, and I opened my mouth to him, taking the kiss from soft to passionate. The temperature was below freezing, but all I could feel was the heat between us. We broke apart, and our ragged breaths crystallized in the air between us.

“I wish I could do this right,” Sergei said. “Take you to dinner, touch you without looking over my shoulder . . .”

“We’ll find a way to make it work. Like I said, I’ll cook for you anytime.” I smiled and tapped his chest.

“I have very fond memories of the last meal I had at your house.”

“Ah, yes, the dinner party.” I nodded. “That was a great night.”

“I knew I was in trouble because you were all I thought about the next day.” He gave my cheek a light touch.

A movement of color on the footbridge caught my eye, and I saw a couple hand-in-hand, cuddling together. Sergei followed my gaze.

“I guess we should head back,” I said.

No one else was on our green line train car, and I wished we had to travel farther than two stops. Sergei held my gloved hand, and I snuggled against his shoulder.

“So, what’s the first recipe I get to taste?” He grinned.

“I was thinking . . . there might be something we can actually go out and do together next weekend. I was going to bribe Aubrey to go with me to the symphony since she doesn’t like classical music, but why don’t you come with me?”

Sergei’s grin disappeared, replaced by tight lips. “I don’t know,
Em
.”

“I don’t think it’ll look questionable. If we see anyone we know, we can say we’re there to check out music for Court and Mark.” I widened my eyes and stared into Sergei’s. “Doesn’t it sound fun?”

“You’re not playing fair, looking at me like that.”

“Is that a yes?”

He paused and scratched his chin. “We’ll have to act very professional.”

“Do you think you can restrain yourself around me?”

A slow smile spread over his lips, and he brought his mouth close to mine. “I’ve had months of practice.”

****

The following Saturday evening, Aubrey popped into my room as I zipped up my little black dress. Since she’d been in bed with the flu all week, we hadn’t discussed my date much. She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms.

“It’s so weird you’re going out with your coach. What do you think Chris would say if he knew? Are you
gonna
tell him?”

Fumbling with the clasp of my necklace, I fastened the silver chain around my neck and straightened the tiny cross pendant. “I’ve been thinking about telling him after Worlds, when the season’s over.”

“What about your parents?”

I moved in front of the mirror, arranging my loose curls over my shoulders and avoiding Aubrey’s concerned gaze. Every time I thought about deceiving my parents, a sharper twinge of guilt hit me.

“I’ve never hid something this big from them before. My dad, I could probably reason with, but my mom . . . well, you know how that conversation would go.”

“Does that mean you’re not
gonna
tell them? How long do you think you can keep it a secret?”

“Can you let up on the questions? I’m already nervous enough about tonight.”

“Why are you nervous? It’s not like you don’t know Sergei.”

I dropped a tube of pink lip gloss into my small black clutch purse and snapped it shut. “I know, but everything’s different now.”

All evening, my stomach had been turning similar to when I rode the spinning teacups at Disney World as a child. I’d had to force down a few bites of the grilled chicken I’d made for dinner. When Sergei and I had hung out as friends, I always felt comfortable, but I had a different role to play now. I hadn’t been on many dates, and I didn’t know what types of serious relationships Sergei had in the past.

Later, when the doorbell rang, I examined myself in the mirror once more before grabbing my coat and purse and heading downstairs. As I neared the foyer, I heard Aubrey open the door, and her voice carried up the stairwell.

“If you hurt
Em
, you’re going to wish you never knew me.”

My heels hit the bottom step. “Aubrey!”

“Sorry, I had to say it.” She started down the stairs to the kitchen. “Don’t bring her home too late!”

I rolled my eyes. “Please excuse her.”

“She’s not afraid to speak her mind.” Sergei laughed and reached out to help me with my coat. “By the way, you look amazing.”

His familiar smile eased my anxiety, but the admiring glow in his eyes set off a new kind of tingling in my stomach. I smiled back and fingered his burgundy tie.

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

When we arrived at the Hyannis Performing Arts Center, the doors of the theater weren’t open yet. I made sure to leave an appropriate amount of space between Sergei and me as we waited in the lobby. Opening my program booklet, I began reading the summary biography of composer Sergei
Rachmaninov’s
life.

“
Em
!” a voice behind me exclaimed.

I immediately recognized the squeaky greeting and turned to find Courtney and her parents coming toward us. Courtney looked back and forth from Sergei to me with a huge smile on her face.

I stepped even farther away from Sergei. “Are you guys
Rachmaninov
fans, too?”

“We try to make all the concerts. Have you heard the symphony play before? They’re excellent,” Courtney’s dad Tom said.

“This is my first time. Sergei and I are thinking about using tonight’s pieces for program music next year, so we wanted to hear them live.”

“Music for me and Mark or you and Chris?” Courtney asked as she removed her red pea coat.

“Well, you’ll have to let us know how you like them,” Sergei said.

I studied the parents’ faces, looking for any sign of surprise or confusion. Nothing seemed amiss with them. Tom, the bespectacled, mild-mannered accountant, wore the same unaffected expression as always, while Karen had on her usual caring and friendly smile, one that reminded me of my kindergarten teacher. Courtney, however, still stared at Sergei and me with a goofy grin.

“The next concert is New World Symphony in a few weeks. You should check that one out, too,” Tom said.

I glanced at Sergei. “I think we’re going to be in Japan then. We have Four Continents in Salt Lake City and then Grand Prix Final in Tokyo. I don’t know who came up with this crazy schedule of back-to-back events on different continents.”

“It’ll be a good test for you and Chris. If you can survive this, you can survive anything.” Sergei sounded like he did every day at the rink, spouting his coach-speak.
Nicely done.

People began to file into the theater, so we followed the crowd and said goodbye to Courtney and her parents.

“I don’t think they suspected anything,” Sergei said after he showed the usher our tickets.

“No, I think we’re good. I didn’t expect to be tested so soon, though.”

“It won’t always have to be this way,” he said softly.

“I know,” I replied with a little smile.

After the musicians finished tuning their instruments, the room darkened, and the dramatic opening notes of
Piano Concerto No. 2
filled the theater. The extreme highs and lows of the music reminded me of the emotional journey I’d experienced lately. I hoped my journey would end the same as the concerto–on a high note.

During intermission, I ran into Courtney on my way out of the ladies’ room. The tiny girl stood out in the line of women touching up their makeup along the row of mirrors.

“What did you think of the piece?” I asked.

“I’d love to skate to it next year! You can choreograph our short to it.”

“I’m glad you’re excited about it. I’ll talk it over with Sergei.”

Courtney played with the ends of her long, golden locks as we walked through the lobby. “So, are you and Sergei on a date?”

I was sure all the color had drained from my face. “What? Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “I just think you’d make an awesome couple.”

I fought the urge to smile and focused on giving an appropriate response. “He’s my coach, Court.”

“Yeah, but you work together as coaches, too, and he’s not that much older than you.”