Page 78 of About to Fall

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

He laughed—weak, wrecked—and I felt it everywhere we were still connected.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Nicky.”

“I could say the same about you.” I pulled out carefully, tossed the condom in the little trash can in the bathroom, and collapsed beside him on the destroyed sheets. “Big fan of the hand necklace?”

“I like diamonds and pearls as much as the next guy but those hands?” He reached over and picked up my right hand, turning it over, studying it like it was something valuable. “Watching you do an Ina Bauer, these long pretty fingers all stretched out… does things to me.” He traced a line down my palm. “Is it too much?”

“No.” I turned my head to look at him. “Not too much.”

“Good to know.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse was still hammering, and the gesture was so unexpectedly tender that it made my chest ache.

I turned onto my side and let my fingers drift from his grip to trace the script along his collarbone. The ink I knew best by now. Fall seven times, get up eight.

“I like this tattoo,” I said. “When’d you get this one?”

“It’s an oldie but goodie.” His eyes stayed on the ceiling. “I’d just bombed Junior Worlds. Fell on my ass twice then underrotated a quad. I finished seventh. I was fifteen and dramatic, so obviously I thought my life was over.”

“Obviously.”

“Coach Allen told me falling didn't matter. What mattered was what I did after.” He shrugged against the pillow. “I came back the next year and won Canadian Juniors.”

“I remember.”

His eyes flicked to me.

“You beat me by 13 points. Then you shook my hand on the podium and told me my program was pretty good.” I paused. “For second place.”

“I said that?”

“Word for word. I cried in the car.”

He covered his face with both hands and groaned. “God, I was such a little shit.”

“You were.”

“In my defence, I was 16, had just won my first major title, and thought I was the coolest person alive.” He dropped his hands. “Also, that was the first time I'd seen you in person. And I couldn't stop staring at you and I had no idea why and it really pissed me off.” A pause. “So naturally I decided to be a dick about it.”

“You were mean to me because you liked me?”

“That's basically the only move in the playbook when you’re a dumb kid.”

“I hated you a little.” I traced the ink again.

“Fair.”

“But I was jealous too. Not of the gold. You had this… fire. This fearlessness. Like you didn't care what anyone thought. Not even the judges. I'd never seen anyone do that. I didn't know it was an option.”

He pulled me closer by the back of my neck and kissed me—slow, unhurried.

“It's always an option with me, Nicky.” His thumb traced my jaw. “I'll teach you how to fall without being afraid of it.”

34. Adrian

I ordered room service while he was in the bathroom cleaning up. Cheeseburger and fries for me, chicken Cobb salad for Nicky with dressing on the side, no bacon, extra chicken. I knew his order by now. Knew the way he ate during competition season—lean protein, measured portions, the careful fuel of an athlete who’d spent too many years being monitored.