At my side, Ty burrowed his face further into his blankets, and then he pulled me against him, using me as a human shield against the light.
I wiggled out of his grasp. “Can’t stay. Have to pee.”
He mumbled something and released me, and I sprinted to his bathroom.
I finished my business in there and headed to his mirror to do a quick check of how I looked. In short: awful. I had stubble-burn on my collarbones, a hickey on my neck, and the back of my hair was a poofed up rat’s nest. There were circles under my eyes from the lack of sleep, and they were puffy. I also had the dopiest grin on my face.
The inside of my thighs were sore, as were other, ahem, parts, so I took a quick shower to loosen my muscles. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Ty had his back to the window and was sound asleep again. I contemplated getting back into bed with him.
And then I sighed heavily.
What was the point in getting back into bed with Ty? Last night had been incredible, but it was now morning. That meant that one of the assistants would arrive soon to pick up our luggage and take us to the airport, and we’d go our separate ways. That was it. End of story.
It was best if I just started packing. Get the whole thing over with quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. I slipped out of Ty’s room and tiptoed across the hall to mine, stark naked. Changing into my typical tank top and leggings, I tied my wet hair into a bun and began to pick up my room, packing my things. As I did, hot tears began to spill down my face.
I didn’t want things to be over. Didn’t want this to be the last night with Ty.
Somewhere during this competition, I’d fallen for him hard.
And it hurt to realize that it was one sided. Ty had been tender in bed, but afterward he’d definitely said he wanted no-strings-attached sex. That was fine. I wasn’t going to do strings. I’d thank him for making my first sexual experience amazing by not making it messy.
I packed my things, cramming dirty laundry into my suitcase, and then lovingly packing my skates in next to them. I went to the dresser, where I’d pulled off one of the sequins from the bridal gown I’d worn in our last competition. I needed to fix it to my skate to increase my juju.
Then I sighed. I needed to be out of here by the time Ty woke up. I could fix up my skates later. There was no hurry, after all. I wouldn’t be skating in a competition again for quite some time…if ever.
I hauled my suitcase up and grabbed my cellphone. Melody had left me a text message. Whenever you’re ready to leave, let me know and I’ll have the car there.
You don’t need me for the post-show interview?
My boss says that as long as we have Ty, it’s fine.
Ouch. I’m ready, I texted back.
Great, she sent a moment later. Car will be there in five.
I hauled my suitcase to the front door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up Ty. I peeked out the window. No car yet, of course. I glanced back at Ty’s room. The door was shut. I…wanted to see him one last time. So I left my suitcase at the door, tiptoed back to his room, and cracked the door silently, peeking in.
He was so gorgeous. A morning scruff of beard covered his chin, and his long eyelashes were visible, little dark fans against his skin. His full mouth was slightly parted in sleep, and he had the pillow trapped in his arms, hunching carefully away from the sunlight spilling into the windows.
He’d been so tender with me last night, so utterly absorbed in making sure that my first time was amazing. And it had been. I felt ruined for every other guy out there. Who could possibly stand up to Ty Randall? I didn’t care if he had a reputation for being a bad boy or punching referees or biting noses. That was in the ring. With me, he’d been charming, patient, understanding, and oh-so-gentle.
I’d fallen hard. Like a stupid idiot, I’d gone and fallen in love with the guy that took my virginity and rocked my world. Damn it.
Tears pricking my eyes, I eased the door shut again, saying goodbye to Ty Randall forever.
~~ * ~~
Zara. Call me. Muy importanta, girlfriend.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, looking over at my students tottering around the ice. The adults were pushing wheeled garbage cans back and forth to help them stay steady on the ice. “Let’s take a five-minute break, everyone,” I said. “Free skate if you want to.” I skated off the ice and headed to one of the benches.
Two messages and a text. The text was Naomi’s, the other two were a number I didn’t recognize. I answered the text. I’m here, Nay. What’s up?
Did you read the Sports section in Mediaweek today?
Uh, no. Should I have? I texted back, my heart fluttering.
Your boy’s back in the game. They put him on probation, but he’s got a fight coming up next month, it seems. You excited?
Oh. So the whole TV show thing had worked for Ty. Good for him. I glanced at my students at the mall skating rink. It hadn’t worked for me, sadly. I hadn’t heard a peep from the producers. I’m excited for him, I wrote back. And it was true, I was.
How could I not be excited for the guy I was still madly in love with? It had only been a few days since the competition. The only thing the show had done for me was cut me a paycheck, help me lose my V-card, and give me a lot more first-timer students back at the mall, because everyone thought I was a celebrity now that I had been on a stupid TV show instead of being merely an Olympian. Irony, thy name is Zara Pritchard.
You hanging in there? Naomi texted me back.
Boy, she sure knew how to interpret a silence. I’m fine, I wrote her. It’s just going to take me some time to get over him.
I understand. I won’t bring him up again. XOXO.
I wrote Xs and Os back to her and clicked off our chat, checking my voicemail instead.
“Zara?” Melody’s voice chimed in my ear. “This is Melody Zimmerman, with Ice Dancing with the Stars. Can you call me back?”
The next message was Melody, too. Same deal. I returned the call, curious.
“Melody Zimmerman,” she answered brightly.
“Hi, this is Zara. You called me?”
“Oh!” She sounded relieved. “Yes! I’m so glad I got ahold of you.”
“You are?” My heart gave an excited flutter. Maybe I’d have a job after all.
“Yes! Listen, ratings have been through the roof this year, and so the producers want to do a little something special with the finale.”
Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. “Something special like what?”
“They want to have everyone participate in a big skate number for the finale show. Bring back all the eliminated contestants and stuff. Isn’t that awesome?”
I glanced at my rink full of students, wobbling on the ice. “Um. So what does that mean for me?”
“We’ll fly you back out here to the cottages, and you can stay for the next few weeks on us while you practice your routine.”
My heart leapt. Outright leapt with joy. A few more weeks? That meant more Ty. More alone-time with Ty. More nights in his bed.
More heartache and pain as I fell more in love with the guy and then we walked away again. “I don’t think I can.”
There was a long pause. “What do you mean?”
“What does it pay?” Might as well be a little mercenary about things.
She got quiet. “Well…you already got paid by the show, I thought?”
I wiggled out of his grasp. “Can’t stay. Have to pee.”
He mumbled something and released me, and I sprinted to his bathroom.
I finished my business in there and headed to his mirror to do a quick check of how I looked. In short: awful. I had stubble-burn on my collarbones, a hickey on my neck, and the back of my hair was a poofed up rat’s nest. There were circles under my eyes from the lack of sleep, and they were puffy. I also had the dopiest grin on my face.
The inside of my thighs were sore, as were other, ahem, parts, so I took a quick shower to loosen my muscles. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Ty had his back to the window and was sound asleep again. I contemplated getting back into bed with him.
And then I sighed heavily.
What was the point in getting back into bed with Ty? Last night had been incredible, but it was now morning. That meant that one of the assistants would arrive soon to pick up our luggage and take us to the airport, and we’d go our separate ways. That was it. End of story.
It was best if I just started packing. Get the whole thing over with quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. I slipped out of Ty’s room and tiptoed across the hall to mine, stark naked. Changing into my typical tank top and leggings, I tied my wet hair into a bun and began to pick up my room, packing my things. As I did, hot tears began to spill down my face.
I didn’t want things to be over. Didn’t want this to be the last night with Ty.
Somewhere during this competition, I’d fallen for him hard.
And it hurt to realize that it was one sided. Ty had been tender in bed, but afterward he’d definitely said he wanted no-strings-attached sex. That was fine. I wasn’t going to do strings. I’d thank him for making my first sexual experience amazing by not making it messy.
I packed my things, cramming dirty laundry into my suitcase, and then lovingly packing my skates in next to them. I went to the dresser, where I’d pulled off one of the sequins from the bridal gown I’d worn in our last competition. I needed to fix it to my skate to increase my juju.
Then I sighed. I needed to be out of here by the time Ty woke up. I could fix up my skates later. There was no hurry, after all. I wouldn’t be skating in a competition again for quite some time…if ever.
I hauled my suitcase up and grabbed my cellphone. Melody had left me a text message. Whenever you’re ready to leave, let me know and I’ll have the car there.
You don’t need me for the post-show interview?
My boss says that as long as we have Ty, it’s fine.
Ouch. I’m ready, I texted back.
Great, she sent a moment later. Car will be there in five.
I hauled my suitcase to the front door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up Ty. I peeked out the window. No car yet, of course. I glanced back at Ty’s room. The door was shut. I…wanted to see him one last time. So I left my suitcase at the door, tiptoed back to his room, and cracked the door silently, peeking in.
He was so gorgeous. A morning scruff of beard covered his chin, and his long eyelashes were visible, little dark fans against his skin. His full mouth was slightly parted in sleep, and he had the pillow trapped in his arms, hunching carefully away from the sunlight spilling into the windows.
He’d been so tender with me last night, so utterly absorbed in making sure that my first time was amazing. And it had been. I felt ruined for every other guy out there. Who could possibly stand up to Ty Randall? I didn’t care if he had a reputation for being a bad boy or punching referees or biting noses. That was in the ring. With me, he’d been charming, patient, understanding, and oh-so-gentle.
I’d fallen hard. Like a stupid idiot, I’d gone and fallen in love with the guy that took my virginity and rocked my world. Damn it.
Tears pricking my eyes, I eased the door shut again, saying goodbye to Ty Randall forever.
~~ * ~~
Zara. Call me. Muy importanta, girlfriend.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, looking over at my students tottering around the ice. The adults were pushing wheeled garbage cans back and forth to help them stay steady on the ice. “Let’s take a five-minute break, everyone,” I said. “Free skate if you want to.” I skated off the ice and headed to one of the benches.
Two messages and a text. The text was Naomi’s, the other two were a number I didn’t recognize. I answered the text. I’m here, Nay. What’s up?
Did you read the Sports section in Mediaweek today?
Uh, no. Should I have? I texted back, my heart fluttering.
Your boy’s back in the game. They put him on probation, but he’s got a fight coming up next month, it seems. You excited?
Oh. So the whole TV show thing had worked for Ty. Good for him. I glanced at my students at the mall skating rink. It hadn’t worked for me, sadly. I hadn’t heard a peep from the producers. I’m excited for him, I wrote back. And it was true, I was.
How could I not be excited for the guy I was still madly in love with? It had only been a few days since the competition. The only thing the show had done for me was cut me a paycheck, help me lose my V-card, and give me a lot more first-timer students back at the mall, because everyone thought I was a celebrity now that I had been on a stupid TV show instead of being merely an Olympian. Irony, thy name is Zara Pritchard.
You hanging in there? Naomi texted me back.
Boy, she sure knew how to interpret a silence. I’m fine, I wrote her. It’s just going to take me some time to get over him.
I understand. I won’t bring him up again. XOXO.
I wrote Xs and Os back to her and clicked off our chat, checking my voicemail instead.
“Zara?” Melody’s voice chimed in my ear. “This is Melody Zimmerman, with Ice Dancing with the Stars. Can you call me back?”
The next message was Melody, too. Same deal. I returned the call, curious.
“Melody Zimmerman,” she answered brightly.
“Hi, this is Zara. You called me?”
“Oh!” She sounded relieved. “Yes! I’m so glad I got ahold of you.”
“You are?” My heart gave an excited flutter. Maybe I’d have a job after all.
“Yes! Listen, ratings have been through the roof this year, and so the producers want to do a little something special with the finale.”
Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. “Something special like what?”
“They want to have everyone participate in a big skate number for the finale show. Bring back all the eliminated contestants and stuff. Isn’t that awesome?”
I glanced at my rink full of students, wobbling on the ice. “Um. So what does that mean for me?”
“We’ll fly you back out here to the cottages, and you can stay for the next few weeks on us while you practice your routine.”
My heart leapt. Outright leapt with joy. A few more weeks? That meant more Ty. More alone-time with Ty. More nights in his bed.
More heartache and pain as I fell more in love with the guy and then we walked away again. “I don’t think I can.”
There was a long pause. “What do you mean?”
“What does it pay?” Might as well be a little mercenary about things.
She got quiet. “Well…you already got paid by the show, I thought?”
