Page 88 of About to Fall

He searched my face for another second, making sure. Then he nodded, kissed my forehead and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, and went back out to charm my best friend.

Within five minutes, Kat and Adrian were sitting crosslegged on my living room floor, sharing the vodka while I finished making a salad to go with the chicken. I could hear them talking—really talking, not the polite small talk of strangers but the rapid, engaged conversation of two people who had immediately recognized something familiar in each other.

“—the training regime is barbaric,” Kat was saying. “Madame still uses a cane. She says it's for keeping the beat but I have bruises that say otherwise.”

“At least she's direct about it. Renaud just stares at you until you apologize for existing.”

Kat snorted. “Sounds about right. Nico's been bending himself into knots to please that man for over a decade and look at how he treats his own nephew.”

“I’m right here,” I called from the kitchen.

“Good. Pay attention!” Kat called back.

“He didn’t tell Nicky I was coming to Toronto.”

“Yeah, that was a fun story. Why did you come to Toronto, Adrian? I’m sure you had your pick of coaches after yours retired.”

“I have a half brother, Cam. He grew up here and offered to let me move into his apartment. And where was I going to live? Ottawa? Fuck that. I mean Toronto is no Vancouver…”

“Oh God, you’re one of those. Well Vancouver is no Moscow.”

“Not all of us were born to be Russian primadonnas.”

“Thank fuck for that, I have enough competition already.”

“Amen to that.”

They clinked glasses.

“Dinner's ready,” I called.

Neither of them moved.

“I'm glad I came over,” Kat said, swirling her glass. “Nico would have hidden you from me for months if I'd let him. He hoards the good things because he's convinced they'll go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Adrian said.

She studied him for a long moment. Then she pointed her glass at him. “I like you. But if you hurt him, let's just say I have two very big Russian brothers and I've heard it's hard to skate with a broken leg.”

“Dinner,” I said again, louder.

Kat waved me off without looking. Adrian poured her another glass of vodka with a wink. “Noted, Ms. Smirnova.”

I plated the food and brought it to them on the floor because apparently we were doing this picnic style. I sat down between them and Kat let me take one bite of chicken before launching into her interrogation.

“So. Paris. The city of love.” Kat tucked her legs beneath her and leaned forward with the intensity of someone settling in for a very long story. “How was it?”

“I told you about the fall during my short program.”

“I don't care about that fall. I want to hear about this.” She waved her fork between us. “You. Falling. For him. Your biggest rival. The man you once described to me as—what was it—'a walking migraine with good bone structure.'”

“I never said good bone structure.”

Adrian grinned. “I know at least one bone you don’t seem to mind.”

“Keep it PG, mister.”

“Not on my account.” Kat shifted closer. “Tell me more.”