Page 10 of Love on the Tracks
She laughs again and shakes her head.
“You can sleep on it if you want.”
“No, I don’t need to sleep on it. It actually sounds . . . fun?” She looks at me, uncertainty written all over her face, as if she needs my permission to enjoy this and not make it some sort of cold transaction. Well, in addition to getting some press and taking a break from LtG, that’s my mission for the next two weeks: show this girl, who’s dedicated her entire life to sliding down a track a thousandth of a second faster than the last run, a damn good time. What would be the harm in letting myself enjoy it a bit too? So I give us both permission to have fun, be a little silly.
“Better than a fork in the eye.”
I offer her a hand and Rowan shakes it this time, no manager or chaperone between us. Gotta love that strong grip of hers that she’s not afraid to use. She nods, a decisive dip of her head while she looks me in the eye.
Without letting go of her hand or breaking eye contact, I raise my voice so Stanley will be able to hear. “We’ve got a deal. Let the dating begin.”
Chapter Five
Rowan
“It’s ridiculous is what it is.” I have to raise my voice above the spray of the shower, but luckily for shouting purposes, the doors in this place are paper thin.
The water shuts off, and then Kate’s singsong voice wafts through as if the door were air. “I think you mean ridiculously awesome. You’re dating Zane Rivera.”
The door swings open, and there’s Kate, clad in only a towel, hair dripping wet. She’s my teammate, but she’s also probably the best friend I’ve got. Which isn’t saying much. Even she doesn’t live in Lake Placid year-round. She comes for training, but for the most part she lives in Arizona. Who the hell ever heard of a slider who lives in Arizona? Regardless, she kicks some royal ass, so here she is.
“I’m fake-dating Zane Rivera, which is entirely different.”
“Pssh.” Kate heads over to her dresser, stripping off her towel and wrapping her hair up in it while she combs through her clothes. Another date with the Russian tonight. Apparently his roommate is banging a French figure skater, so they’ll have the room to themselves. “It sounds like all the perks without any of the downside.”
Flopping against the pillows at the head of my bed, I cross my arms. “How do you figure?”
“Well, you get the sweet press, you get to hang out with one of the hottest guys on the planet, and I’m sure he’ll take you to some awesome places. Being a rock star has its upside, you know. And when all this is over, you both dust off your hands and get back to what’s important. Work.”
Right. No muss, no fuss. That’s what Stanley said. She’s missing part of the picture though. “What about the sex?”
She holds up a beaded purple tank top and I shake my head. “Aren’t you going for a walk along the South Platte first? You should wear a sweater.”
“Fine, Mom.” She rolls her eyes, but puts the tank back in the drawer and continues digging. “And what do you mean, ‘What about the sex?’”
“You know competitions are the only time I get any action. I was looking forward to getting laid. What if he doesn’t want to sleep with me? It’s not like I can hook up with someone else if we’re supposed to be together. That would look so, so bad. Not America’s Sweetheart material for sure.”
“True.” Kate holds a navy blue, low-cut sweater up, pinning it to her shoulders with her hands.
“Yes, that one. It’ll look good with your hair. Just make sure you wear a scarf while you’re out or you’ll freeze.”
She tosses it on the bed, along with a pair of jeans, and then scores some underwear and a bra from another drawer, pulling them on while she lectures me. “Then you’ve only got one choice.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve got to fuck Zane Rivera.”
“Would you stop saying his whole name? He’s just . . . Zane.” Just Zane who’d smiled at me, his artfully scruffed cheeks caving into those dimples, dark eyes twinkling mischievously.
He could’ve pressured me, tried to sell me on this wacked-out plan based on its financial merits, but he didn’t. He’d coaxed me, literally nudged me, talked low in my ear again—which had maybe started desire slip-sliding down my spine until it was resting low in my belly. “And I don’t think fucking is part of the bargain.”
Kate pulls her jeans on, the skintight denim clinging to her defined calves, and then flops onto her bed on her back so she can actually zip the damn things before she bounces up again, shimmying to get them sitting right. “You should’ve read the fine print of this contract more carefully, Andrews. Do you at least get to have fake sex with him?”
“What does—No, never mind.” I throw a pillow at her and she ducks out of the way and into the bathroom. Hopefully she doesn’t notice my cheeks are likely flushed from thinking about exactly how close I had come to having fake sex with Zane earlier today. Was that a few hours ago? Seriously, this place is like a time warp.
The whoosh of the hair dryer sounds from the bathroom and I lean back onto my pillows once more, this time flatter. Just when I’ve made myself comfortable, my phone pings. It’s a text, and I’m betting it’s my dad, making sure I’m headed to bed soon.
When I open the app, it’s not my dad.
