Shot on Gold

  He frowned. "Why not?"

  "Too much risk."

  He laughed. "I can't believe you of all people just said that."

  "Why?"

  "You take risks every time you skate out onto the ice. You're brave as hell, Amber."

  "Thank you. But that's just skating. Win or lose, my heart will be intact."

  "So you're saying your emotions aren't involved when you skate? That if you don't win a medal here, you won't be heartbroken?"

  "No. Winning a medal is always a challenge. Since I was ten years old, skating was my business, not my heart, not my everlasting love."

  Will found it fascinating hearing Amber's perspective, not only about love, but how she felt about figure skating. He had an entirely different feeling about being on the ice. "Huh. Okay."

  "You feel differently."

  "Hell, yeah. I love being on the ice. Winning is everything. And losing is awful."

  She circled her finger around his nipple, making him suck in a breath. "When you lose, does it hurt your heart?"

  "No, but it sucks."

  "If you don't medal here, will your heart be broken?"

  He had to think about that. "I guess not. But it'll suck."

  "I think I've made my point."

  He swept his hand upward, cupping her breast, teasing her nipple with his fingers until her breathing grew faster.

  "And what was that point?"

  She made a moaning sound. "I forget. I'm sure if you fuck me it'll jog my memory."

  He rolled over to grab a condom. "My pleasure."

  "Oh, no, Will. It'll definitely be my pleasure."

  NINETEEN

  AMBER BARELY MADE IT BACK TO THE VILLAGE THE next morning in time to change clothes and dash to the ice arena in time for practice.

  "You are late," Yegor said, giving her his signature look of disapproval. Brows furrowed, arms crossed, head down. When she was twelve, it had been highly intimidating. Now, not so much.

  "I know, I know, I'm sorry," she said, dashing to the bench to put on her skates.

  "You need to stretch first," Valeria said. She also gave her a stern look.

  "I don't have time. I'll go easy on the jumps."

  "You'll get hurt without stretching."

  "I won't, Valeria, I promise."

  She started to move away, but Valeria grabbed her arm.

  "Let me stretch you."

  Amber shook her head. "There's no time. I have to be on the ice right now."

  She heard Valeria's sigh as she made her way across the carpet to the ice.

  It was much more important for her to get her practice time in rather than sacrifice that time to stretch. She took to the ice, did several laps around the rink, then went into a few easy jumps.

  Her body felt good, and after a few more times around the arena she felt limber, so she signaled for her music for the short program so she could do a run-through. She got up to speed and did her first required element, a triple jump.

  She felt the twinge in her hamstring almost immediately after coming out of the jump.

  Shit. She continued on, hoping it was just a lack of warm-up that was causing her muscles to freeze up and nothing more. But as she went into the second jump, she felt that tightness again and, even worse, pain.

  She didn't finish going through the rest of her program. Rather than risk an injury, she skated off the ice.

  Valeria was right there, concern etched on her features. "I saw the way you came out of that triple axel. What's wrong?"

  "I don't know. I felt a twinge in my right hamstring when I landed the jump."

  "Come. Let's take a look at your leg."

  She cast a look over at Yegor, who only shook his head and walked away.

  A feeling of dread overcame her.

  She unlaced her skates, casting them a look of longing, then followed Valeria into the locker room. She undressed, then hopped up on the table, wincing at the tightness in her hamstring.

  She flipped over on her stomach and closed her eyes as Valeria put heat on her hamstring. She hoped she hadn't screwed this all up. Had she done something terrible? Had her refusal to adequately warm up done irreparable damage to her career? Had she thrown away her shot at winning gold?

  "How does this feel?" Valeria asked as she removed the heating pad and began pressing in hard on the muscles of her hamstring.

  It didn't hurt, so that might be positive. "It feels fine. Good, actually."

  "No pain?"

  "No pain."

  "Good sign." Valeria worked her over for about half an hour, then told Amber to roll over. Valeria stretched her thoroughly. When she finished, Amber got dressed.

  Yegor knocked on the door and ducked his head in.

  "Got permission for you to skate again, if your leg is okay."

  She did a few lunges, and felt no pain. "I can skate."

  "Good. You will have time on the ice in fifteen minutes after Petrova has completed her skate. Stay warm."

  She got dressed and grabbed her skates, then made her way out onto the carpet again, this time making sure she continued to stretch. When Petrova finished, she skated out there, feeling much more relaxed and limber than she had when she'd skated cold earlier.

  The true test would be the jumps. She started her program, and when she did the triple axel, she held her breath, but landed the jump with no pain.

  She exhaled a sigh of relief, went through the rest of her routine, feeling solid on all the required elements. When she finished, she skated off the ice toward a waiting Yegor and Valeria. Actually, she wanted to fling herself into Valeria's arms and sob with gratitude and relief, but she held it together.

  "That looked much better," Valeria said.

  Yegor nodded. "Stronger. You skated with confidence."

  "I agree," Valeria said. "How was your pain level?"

  She sat and unlaced her skates. "I felt much more relaxed. No tightness. No pain."

  "Perfect," Valeria said. "No need to worry. You just had a twinge because you weren't warmed up."

  "Which won't happen again, correct?" Yegor asked, slanting a stern look at her.

  "It won't happen again."

  She changed and left the arena, heading straight to her apartment.

  "Lisa?"

  Lisa didn't answer. She was either with Blake or out on the half-pipe doing her own practice.

  She tossed her bag down inside the front door and went straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of juice. After she poured it, she sat at the counter.

  How could she have been so careless, so stupid? She'd lost focus, had treated her skating career cavalierly, all in favor of some sexual fun and exploration. She'd even told Will last night that skating meant virtually nothing to her, that it was just a job.

  It was so much more. When she'd felt that pull in her hamstring today, she'd panicked. It was only then she realized how much skating meant to her, what a blow it would be to not be able to compete.

  Competition was everything to her. Nothing else mattered.

  No one else mattered.

  She had to get her focus back.

  Her phone buzzed. She ignored it, figuring it was Will. She wasn't ready to talk to him. Not until she formulated a plan for their next conversation. Because things were going to change between them. They had to.

  Her phone buzzed again.

  "Dammit." She was just going to have to tell him that--

  She looked at the phone. Oh, shit. Her mom. She'd forgotten all about her mom. She pressed the button. "Hi, Mom."

  "Where have you been?"

  "I'm at the apartment."

  "I called you six times this morning between the hours of six and nine. You didn't answer."

  She had her phone on silent in her bag, and because she'd been running late she hadn't bothered to look at it. "Sorry. I was running late this morning and I had short program practice. I just got back."

  "Running late? You're never late. You're always early. What's going on, Amber?
"

  "Nothing's going on, Mom. So, how about lunch? Would you like to meet outside the village? There's a great bistro that I think you'd really like."

  "Lunch would be fine. We need to get to the bottom of what you've been up to."

  Amber rolled her eyes. "I miss you, too, Mom."

  "Don't you get smart with me, Amber. We've worked way too hard on your skating career for you to throw it all away now."

  "I'm not throwing anything away. I'm still working toward getting that medal."

  "We'll see about that."

  Amber made plans to meet her mother, then clicked off the phone, realizing as she did that her left hand had been clenched into a fist the entire time she'd been on the phone. She relaxed her hand and looked down at the deep grooves her nails had carved into her palm.

  No tension there, huh, Amber?

  Blowing out a breath, she got up, paced around the apartment and did some deep breathing in an effort to calm herself down. She changed clothes, making sure her hair was brushed and pulled back into a ponytail. She put on her leggings, boots and a sweater, then grabbed her jacket and gloves and left the apartment.

  The restaurant was a few blocks outside the village. The cold air cleared her head, which she desperately needed. By the time she made it to the restaurant, she was ready to face her mother.

  Her mom had texted her to tell her she was already there and had a table. Amber walked in, and it was hard to miss her mother's flaming red hair and bright patterned clothing. The one thing Amber knew about Denise Sloane was that she liked to stand out in a crowd.

  No problem there. Mom stood and waved her hand, as if Amber would have any problem spotting her. She made her way around several tables and leaned over to kiss her mother on the cheek.

  "Hi, Mom."

  "You look tired. And are you gaining weight? You aren't eating junk food, are you?"

  Amber drew in a deep breath, saved by their waitress who came over to take Amber's drink order. She asked for a glass of lemon water, then faced her mother. "I'm sleeping fine. My weight is perfect, and I'm eating right. How are you?"

  "Concerned. Why were you late for practice this morning?"

  She could tell her mother the truth, that she'd spent the night with Will last night, but that would only open up a hysterical fielding of questions Amber wasn't ready--or in the mood--to answer.

  She waited until the waitress set her water glass in front of her, and then they ordered their lunch. Knowing how her mother watched every calorie she consumed, Amber chose a grilled chicken salad.

  "I forgot to set the alarm on my phone. But I had plenty of time to run through my program, so it worked out fine. I'm sorry I missed your calls and worried you, though."

  That seemed to settle her mother, because the barrage of questions and accusations ceased. "So you won a gold medal, finally."

  Amber smiled. "Yes, it was a thrilling competition. We were all rooting for each other. The team was so excited to win the medal."

  Her mother nodded. "Yes, but it is a team medal, so not as good as an individual one."

  Gee, Mom, how about an "I'm so proud of you" or "You did great"? Instead, she got the typical "That's not quite good enough, Amber."

  A biting retort sat on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to fall out of her mouth.

  Amber swallowed it instead of spitting it out. The taste was bitter, as always. She washed it down with a sip of lemon water.

  "How's Dad?" Amber asked.

  "He's very busy, as usual. Right now he's in Boston meeting with one of his biggest clients. He said to tell you he'd try to be here by the time you skate your program."

  Amber ignored the twinge of disappointment. "He'd try? But he's going to make it, right?"

  Her mother shrugged. "He said he'd try. You know how busy your father is, Amber. But I'm here. I'm always here."

  She reached across the table to squeeze her mother's hand. "Yes, you are. Thank you for that."

  Her mother looked surprised by the gesture. "You're welcome. Now tell me what you've been up to."

  "I'm roommates with Lisa Peterson again."

  "Really? That's unusual."

  "Not really. Lisa made arrangements for it to happen."

  Her mother frowned. "I didn't know she had that kind of pull."

  Amber laughed. "I don't know what kind of pull you need as far as putting roommates together, but I love Lisa, so I'm glad we're roomies."

  "Hmm," her mother said.

  Amber had no idea what that meant. "Anyway, we've been hanging out in groups. I've made friends with so many of my fellow figure skaters."

  "Oh, Amber, you know I don't think that's a good idea."

  She sighed. "Why, Mom? Why isn't that a good idea? How could me making friends with other skaters possibly hurt the way I skate?"

  "It clouds your perspective, takes away your competitive edge."

  "That's such a load of bullshit."

  "Amber Sloane. You will not speak to me that way."

  Her first instinct was to take it back, but she had to start acting like an adult, and it was high time her mother stop treating her like a child. "Come on, Mom. I've made friends with a seventeen-year-old who's my teammate. Tell me how me being friendly with her, or with pairs skaters and male individual skaters, could possibly affect my competitive edge?"

  Their waitress brought their lunch, so her mother waited before she answered. She looked around the restaurant, as if there were someone here who could possibly be interested in what she had to say. Amber wanted to roll her eyes but she held back, figuring she'd already pushed her mother's buttons enough.

  Her mom leaned forward and whispered. "First, because that level of friendliness relaxes you instead of you constantly being on your toes. Second, you could lose your focus. Instead of seeing these fellow skaters as competitors, you view them as your friends. And because they're your friends, you might not want to beat them on the ice. It reduces your edge."

  Amber stared at her mother for a few seconds. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. We all want to win a gold medal. How could you possibly think that hanging out with these people could affect my performance on the ice?"

  Her mother bit into her sandwich, chewed then swallowed. "Because I've seen it happen. Not in skating, but in dance. You have a group who go out together, get friendly, and all of a sudden they don't work as hard as they once did because they didn't hold themselves separate from their competition. Or maybe they heard so-and-so's sob story about how if they don't win it will affect their lives in a negative way, and subconsciously it causes them to alter their own performance."

  Amber laid her fork down. "You mean someone from another country might be punished if they don't win gold, and that could affect my performance because I'm worried for their future?"

  "Yes. That exactly."

  "Mom. Come on. That's not going to happen. First off, no one has said anything like that to me, and second, even if they did, I have to skate for myself, not anyone else."

  "I'm glad to hear you say that, but still, there's a good reason I never wanted you to get close to other skaters."

  Amber pushed the lettuce around on her plate. "Yeah, you never wanted me to have any friends."

  Her mother gave her a critical look. "Do you really think that was the reason?"

  She lifted her gaze to her mother. "I was lonely. My entire life, I've been lonely, Mom. I'm tired of not having any friends. This competition, I have friends and I like it."

  Her mother's hard stare continued. "And it's already affecting you. You were late for practice today."

  She hated to admit her mom might have a point. She was late today, because she'd been out playing with Will last night. She had lost focus at a critical time in her performance schedule. But she'd never admit that to her mother.

  She knew what she had to do, and she'd make sure to take care of the focus part.

  It wouldn't stop her from having friends, though.

&nbsp
; "I've got it under control, Mom."

  "We'll see, Amber. Just don't expect your father and I to continue to support your career if you're not willing to give one hundred percent of your time to it."

  And now it was time for threats. She was so tired of the threats. She'd heard them for years, knew it was another method her mother used to control her. She gave her a direct stare, refusing to be cowed into submission any longer. "I'll continue to give it everything I have, just like I've always done. You and Dad do what you have to do."

  She got up and came around the table, kissing her mother on the cheek again. "Thanks for lunch. I'll see you again soon."

  She put on her coat on the way out the door, slid on her beanie and her gloves and headed back toward the village.

  She was halfway there when the trembling started.

  What had she done? She was so fucked.

  That had been a first. She'd never once stood up to her mother. Her mother had always been her confidant, the person she'd gone to in times of crisis. Family was all she had and she might have just screwed that up.

  She wasn't brave. She was dependent on her parents, had no source of income and had just basically told her mother to go fuck herself.

  Oh, God. That had been so incredibly stupid. Her breathing increased, then a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over her and she could barely feel her limbs. She was cold and hot at the same time.

  Her heart rate skyrocketed. She wasn't going to be able to make it back to the village.

  She stopped and sat on a nearby bench, realizing she was having a panic attack. She stared straight ahead, blocking out everything around her. She forced her breathing to slow, to draw deep, even breaths.

  Okay, Amber, what to do, what to do.

  She didn't know who to turn to.

  Yes, she did.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and found herself sending the text message, despite her better judgement, despite her resolve to focus, to steer clear.

  It didn't matter. Not right now. She didn't care. She needed him.

  The reply came instantly. When she could manage to breathe evenly again, she stood and started walking. When she arrived back at the village, Will was in the main lobby waiting for her.

  He took her hand, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong? You're pale. Are you sick?"

  She shook her head. "I had lunch with my mother."

  "That must have been some lunch. Wanna talk about it?"

  She shook her head. "No. I just need . . ."

  The sentence trailed off. She didn't know what she needed. Other than comfort and strong arms around her.