Page 164 of Only Ever You

Twenty years old

My second year at the GBU has been creeping by slowly. I all but live at the rink, at the gym, and at the dance studio. My classes are barely more than an afterthought, and two professors have already hinted if I can’t be bothered to show up consistently, I’m going to find myself in big trouble later.

But after my fall, I desperately need to work on my jumps. My Axel and Lutz are still far from perfect, and it drives me up the wall. If I want to even be considered for the Olympics, I need to work harder.

My Olympic dream isn’t going to fulfill itself.

My muscles ache, my legs like jelly after three hours at the dance studio with almost no breaks. Blake has a date with a girl from the cheer squad, so I’ve got the room all to myself, but I’m too tired to think about anything but taking a quick shower and curling up in bed.

As I slip under the covers twenty minutes later, I check my phone and discover I’ve missed three FaceTime calls from Michael, along with a regular call. My heart squeezes. Dammit, I can’t believe I missed his calls again. I push myself up and sit with my back to the headboard, sighing. Lately, it’s been hard to touch base. Our busy schedules just make it too hard. I press my palm to my breastbone and rub at it, hoping it will stop the pain that spreads through my chest.

I miss him so damn much.

Should I call him back? It’s 11 p.m. in New York, but his last call was only fifteen minutes ago.

I dial his number, and he answers after the third ring.

“Hey, baby,” he says in a husky voice.

The greeting eases some of my sadness. “Hey. How are you?”

“F-fine.” He yawns.

My stomach sinks. “Did I wake you up?”

“Uh-huh, but I’m glad you did. Falling asleep without hearing your voice sucks.”

I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. “It’s the same for me, but I’m sorry anyway. I should’ve checked my phone the moment I left the studio.”

He chuckles. “Stop apologizing. You probably stepped out of the dance studio and started replaying every second of practice in your head.”

“I did.” Warmth spreads all over my skin, my heart growing with love for this guy. No one knows me and understands me better than he does.

“How is your jump restoring going?”

“Honestly? Not great.” I bow my head and pick at the fabric of my comforter. “Elena thinks I’m doing fine. Coach Gonzalez thinks so too, but…” I look up at the ceiling, replaying the moment I couldn’t land an Axel right today. “I don’t know. I feel like I should’ve fixed it all by now.” I catch my snowflake earring between my fingers and trace its sharp little edges, hoping it will ground me. “So if I’m not in class, I’m either at the rink or in the studio.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself.” He sighs. “Your fall was fucking brutal. Nobody comes back from something like that overnight.”

I chew on my bottom lip and sigh. While I expect irritation to flare to life in my chest, my body relaxes instead, his words soothing me. But I’m ready to put thoughts of my issues aside. “How was your practice?”

“Good. Coach pulled me aside and told me he admires my dedication, and he’s impressed with how hard I’m working on skills and building a rapport with the guys.”

“See? Guess it’s a good thing you’re staying put in New York rather than trying to see me every time you have a spare moment,” I tease.

He huffs. “Gotta do something to make sure this season is better than last.”

I tighten my hold on my earring, hating the disappointment that sweeps through me.

His tone of voice is soft, our conversation light, but my mind keeps drifting to every call one of us has missed over the past two months. Every conversation cut short because one of us was running to practice, or because I was busy with school, or because he was boarding a flight with the team.

The worst part is that I’m relieved. Because I understand what he means. Because I’ve started doing it too. Doing all I can for my career, for a dream I’ve had since I was little.

I clear my throat. “Have you ever felt guilty? For…spending time with me instead of practicing?”

My heart thunders in my chest, my breathing growing shallow.

“Yeah…” he says in a quiet voice. “Every time I fly to see you, I feel guilty…like I should be training instead.” He exhales shakily. “And then, when I’m training, I feel guilty for not being there for you.”