Page 22 of Love on the Tracks
“I think you nailed the end just fine.”
There’s that goddamn giggle again and I laugh with her. Please let this be not the last time I get to be in bed with her. I totally underestimated this girl, and I’d like to rectify that. Let her show me exactly what else she’s capable of. I want it all, at least while I can have it.
Her head comes up and she eyes the clock. “I hate to do this, but I’ve got to get going. I need to get back to my room before our team run, otherwise someone might notice I didn’t exactly change from yesterday.”
“Yeah, of course. I’m surprised you could stay this long. I mean, I’m glad you did, but I get it. I hope though—”
Can I ask for this? Sex is not why she’s here, and tomorrow’s a big day for her. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I still want her to know how I feel. No misunderstandings.
“I’d like to see you again, but I don’t want to interfere. So, if you want to get together again, you tell me when and where and for how long, and I’ll make it happen. Outside of our, you know, dating for the cameras.”
She rolls her lips between her teeth and gets pink. Is that what her cheeks look like when she’s aced the track? Pulling up on the front of her sled after a satisfying run? I hope so. I’d like to scoop her up and kiss her silly after her race, but I’ll be respectful of her wishes, whatever those are. I’m not going to cost her this opportunity. I won’t. And I’m not going to let myself fall too hard for her. There’s an expiration date on us, and it’ll go up in smoke as soon as the closing ceremony is done, as soon as Denver goes back to business as usual.
“I’d like that. I can’t stay up late tonight, but maybe we could do something this afternoon? I’ll text you.”
She leans down, plants a kiss on my mouth. It’s not sexy, but it’s big and silly. Affectionate.
“Sounds good.”
Rowan climbs out of bed, all power and economy of movement. I watch her as she gets dressed, pulling her clothes on, and before she heads out, she bounces onto the bed, putting her hands to the sides of my head and kissing me again. “Later.”
“Definitely.”
Then she’s gone.
Chapter Nine
Rowan
“And where the fuck were you?”
“Somewhere that didn’t have a sock on the door.” My hedging earns me quite the side-eye from Kate, and then she’s looking me up and down as if she’ll find a piece of evidence clinging to my clothing about where I’ve been. She won’t. I don’t think.
“You were with him, weren’t you? Zane, I mean. Because if you’d been with your dad or Angie and Lola, you would’ve said. Or you were banging someone else in the village, but I don’t think so. You were with your fake boyfriend.”
I throw my shirt at her before stripping off my bra and pulling a different one on over my head, along with yet another Team USA T-shirt. One nice thing about being on the team? A shit ton of clothes I’ll hopefully get to swap for some of the more stylish ones at the end of the games. It’s SIG tradition to trade a bunch of your wardrobe with other athletes. The Nordic countries have way better stuff than we do, and I’m hoping to score a hat from Norway and a jacket from Sweden, orSverigeas it will say. Yellow’s not my color, but the blue will look nice.
For the moment, though, I’ve got my American wardrobe, and we’ll all be rocking our team colors while we work out.
Kate snatches the balled-up shirt out of the air and tosses it toward our laundry pile before pointing at me accusingly. “That’s it, isn’t it? You had a sleepover with Zane, didn’t you? Well, all I have to say is you’re welcome.”
“Just because it worked out doesn’t mean you can pull that shit for the rest of the time we’re here, okay? I need to be in bed early tonight.”
Kate raises an eyebrow.
“In my own bed, by myself, and without a Russian going at you likean-all-you-can-drinkvodka bar.”
She huffs and pulls on her own leggings. “His first event is tomorrow, so no worries. We can be nuns tonight, and then either celebrate our runs or drown our sorrows night after tomorrow. Fair?”
“Fair.”
Our training run is, on the scale of things, easy. No sense in wearing us out with a marathon before the big races, but the physical activity of a brisk jog, putting one foot in front of the other, focuses me, gives me something to think about besides the race tomorrow. It also gives me time to review the track in my head, rehearsing the course and repeating the key turns and tricks we’ve picked up and shared with each other.
We hear that a Latvian slider had a crash on the last turn today, which isn’t surprising. Everyone’s been cautious on that turn because it’s a treacherous one. We’ll have to be more aggressive in the timed runnings, but yeah, it’s scary. It’s not clear whether he’s going to be able to compete, and we all wince, suck air through our teeth or otherwise express sympathetic dismay. There but by the grace of god and all that.
Most of my team heads back to the village to eat in the dining hall, but I go to meet my dad a few blocks away, after I’ve gotten cleaned up and changed out of my team gear. At the restaurant, he looks at me the same expectant way Kate had.
“How’s everything?”
