Blind Landing (Flipped #1) (18 page)

G
race’s incident
puts a damper over the entire gymnastics community at the Olympics, and it even branches out as other athletes at The Games reach out to give us well wishes and condolences.

I visited her, along with the three other women, this morning. She laid there, silent and unmoving, machines breathing for her. I could barely choke down the bile that crept up my throat while I looked at her, so small and fragile, in a coma. Rage and despair warred in my blood; I wanted to wring Novak’s neck with my bare hands.

The tension and sadness was abundant in the arena, the carefree attitude that was present when we won gold just two days ago all but gone. And the thickness of competition hung heavy as well; we were no longer teammates, but opponents gunning for the same prize, the same medal.

“How you feeling?” Spence comes up behind me as I stretch out my shoulders, taking my arms in his hands and doing the motions for me.

Just having his skin in contact with the long sleeves of my leotard helped to make me feel marginally better. What was happening between us, the way he had held me and consoled me yesterday … I couldn’t dwell on it for too long. There were too many other variables in my brain right now. Focusing on the competition, worrying about Grace. It all felt too big on my thoughts right now, like an elephant was sitting on my brain. If I added Spencer in there too, well, I might just have a nervous breakdown.

So for the time being, I allowed him to be here for me, I accepted his kind words and soothing touches. I needed them.

“All right. Sad. Anxious.” It was the truth.

He massaged my shoulders, his big hands helping to relieve some of that enormous weight. “Push it all out of your mind. Take it event by event. You can’t do anything right now except go out there and have the meet of your life. You’ve earned it. So do it.”

“That’s your big speech?” I make a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

He smirks at me. “Would you rather I tell you to feel the fear and do it anyway?”

I shudder. “God, no. Just don’t give me any shitty inspirational advice. I think we’re way past that.”

“All right. I could smack your ass if you’d like, tell you how hot you are when you shimmy during your floor routine.”

Despite everything, a lick of heat zips down my spine. “Funny. Somehow, I don’t think the media would write that in a very good light.”

The announcer comes over the loudspeaker, signaling the start of the meet. I drew the short end of the stick this time for rotations, starting on floor and ending on beam. I hated ending on beam; it was the most nerve wrecking event to leave until the last performance.

Forgetting about everything else—Grace, Spencer, my crappy rotation lineup— I throw myself into floor, doing an almost identical routine of the one that won us gold. But I can feel my heart isn’t in it, and maybe the judges can too. I score a fifteen-point-six, which is still good, but it’s not the sixteen I pulled the other night.

I score a fifteen-point-eight on bars and a fifteen-point-four on vault.

Spence envelops me into a huge hug as I descend the platform after vault. “That was awesome! A little step on the landing, but nice job.”

His strong arms lifting me into the air fills me with more confidence than any score ever could. The smile he beams at me is more of a prize than any medal could be.

“Thanks, Coach.” I wink at him, feeling better than I have in months.

Being with Spence, throwing wit at each other, flirting like we used to … I feel whole again. And as he sets me down, it hits me square in the chest, like landing on your stomach and getting the wind knocked out of you. Spencer Russell makes everything make sense. He’s the high bar to my low bar. The music to my floor routine. The dismount to my beam.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, our gazes caught up in each other’s. I need to tell him I love him, that I’ve loved him since the moment he flirted with me in the cafeteria at Filipek’s. The heat of the moment cuts us off from the world, like we’re in our own little bubble.

But then, we’re cut off by the announcer. “Gymnasts, you can now rotate to your next event.”

Spence audibly swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Come on, Champ, let’s go win some medals.”

I nod, feeling dazed from the moment that almost was. I have to wait through three other gymnasts’ routines until it’s finally my turn, the last competitor of the entire meet.

The eyes of every person in the arena follow me as I mount the beam. My routine flows through me, like paint on a canvas. I brush the beam, spreading the magic and the beauty over every inch of the leather. I turn, flip and dance, images of Spence flashing before my eyes.

Spence laughing as he lounges on a chalky mat. Spence kicking up sand in Ocean City as he shows off before diving into the water. Spence moving over me in a moonlit room with pleasure brightening his green eyes.

Finally, I’m at the end of the beam, facing the mat at the end where my feet will land after I dismount. And there he is again. Spencer. Standing on a spotter’s block at the end, his hands ready to catch me, to help me. Of course, he’s not really there. But for all he’s done for me, he might as well be.

My heart soars as I launch into my dismount, my body aimed perfectly, my feet rebounding at just the right speed. My Arabian flips perfectly, the exact amount of rotation powering me to my feet.

And then. My feet make contact. My chest comes up. I hang on with my toes, praying to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that I don’t move. And I don’t. A stuck landing.

My arms shoot up, pumping as I jump up and down. The crowd is on its feet, the ovation so loud I can barely make out the score. But as I look up at the jumbotron, and it reads sixteen-point-two, I know I’ve done it.

I’m the new Olympic All Around Champion.

And there is only one person I want to celebrate with. I sprint for the stairs, hopping off the side of the platform and booking it for the man I love.

Spencer catches me mid-leap, his clover green eyes dancing as tears shine in them.

I don’t hesitate. “I love you.”

A question clouds his face. “What?”

“I said I love you!” I scream.

Now he hears me. “I love you, too. So much, Nat.”

In front of the whole arena, all of the TV cameras, I lower my face where he holds me above him. And I kiss him.

I kiss him long and hard, only stopping so he can grab the medal from the presenter who comes near us and hangs it around my neck.

I finally have my gold. But I also have my guy. Because without him, none of it matters.

Spencer is my blind landing, the thing that I never saw coming. He rushed up at me like the floor does to feet. But once I took that jump, once I trusted myself to fall with him, everything worked out just like it was supposed to.

“
Y
ou sure
you don’t want to go party? You are the star of The Olympic Village these day.”

Nat grins at me, the moonlight bouncing off her golden hair. “Well, now that you mention it, there are some pretty hot guys here … and I’m a hot ticket, so …”

I pull her towards me, the whip of a dress she has on leaving nothing to the imagination. Her breasts press against my chest, and I can feel her nipples pebble even through the layer of my shirt. Our breathing hitches, the need to be entwined so strong that my cock begins to swell at the thought.

“This is all mine. Don’t you forget that.” Taking both of her ass cheeks in my hands, I squeeze.

“Well now that I’ve outed us to the world, I don’t think I’ll kick you to the curb quite yet. I need the publicity after all.” She dances out of my grasp, teasing me.

Yeah, she outed us all right. That kiss she planted on my lips two seconds after she told me she loved me was being broadcast on every major news network, celebrity gossip site, Instagram page and gymnastics fan’s Twitter page. And it would continue to be published for months to come. Everyone wanted the story. Had I seduced her? When had we fallen in love? What would happen now?

And my favorite question … what was our couple name?

“What do you think about Spencetalia?” I ask as I plop my butt in the sand.

The beach is empty, everyone either partying in The Village or trying to get into a party in The Village.

“Huh?” Nat joins me, laying her head on my shoulder as the waves lap at the shore.

“For our couple name. I want to get ahead of this thing, really market it well for ourselves.”

She shoves me. “Shut the fuck up. You couldn’t care less what the media says and we both know it.”

“Not where we’re concerned, no. Absolutely fucking not.”

And I wasn’t, it was true. They could spread rumors or speculate, but I didn’t give a shit. Nat had stepped up, showed me that she was willing to give it all up for me. With that one kiss, she’d proven that she valued our relationship, me, over gymnastics. It might have taken her a bit longer to come to the conclusion I’d reached months ago, but that only meant I could tease her about making it up to me.

“So what do I get for falling in love with you first?”

“Again, shut the fuck up. You’re such a liar. How do I even know you fell in love with me first?! You never said anything.”

I rub her shoulders. “Oh, baby, I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t love you. I was just giving you some time to catch up.”

Nat turns my face to hers, kissing me softly before pulling away. “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t give up on me.”

“I never will,” I whisper against her lips. Pulling back, I smooth the hair out of her face. “How is Grace, by the way?”

My girl snuggles into me as I wrap an arm around her. “She’s okay, getting better. She woke up a couple of hours ago, I saw her for about ten minutes. She pretty much corroborated the story we told the IOC, that Novak pressured her to lose weight. It’s going to take some time, but I think she’ll be okay.”

Anger ripples through me yet again. “He’s going to get what’s always been coming to him. It might be horrible to say, but something had to happen for him to be prosecuted. I’m so sorry it was Grace, but I’m glad he won’t be able to hurt any gymnast ever again.”

“Enough about him.” She stands, the light shining through her dress, giving me the shadows and curves of her body. “Do you want your gift now?”

My dick twitches. “Well, that depends. What is my gift?”

A flutter of material and her dress is up and over her head, leaving her standing before me in nothing but a lilac thong. My balls draw up tight, my cock straining to be inside of her.

“Let’s see if the ocean in Rio is any warmer than the ocean in New Jersey.” A devilish smile creases her beautiful face.

And then she’s running down the beach, kicking up sand as her perky ass jiggles. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough. Can’t sprint to where she’s diving under the waves quick enough.

I finally catch her, hoisting her body up onto mine until she’s straddling me, her heels digging into my ass.

“I love you, Coach.” She skates her teeth across my bottom lip.

“I love you, Champ,” I say before I lower her down onto my swollen cock.

Then there is nothing but me, her and the sea.

“
I
believe
in a thing called love, just listen to the rhythm of my heart!”
Rourke rocks out, clapping with his hands over his head as the girls at the end of his runway jam out on fake air guitars.

I laugh, unable to keep the chuckle from popping out as I flick the mouthpiece on my Camelbak water bottle. I stick the rubber in my mouth, sucking on it until water replenishes my dry throat.

“Sometimes I think he’s a little crazy. I fucking love it.” My boyfriend sneaks up behind me, grasping my near-naked hips in his very talented hands.

Twirling, I glare at him. “Spencer, we’ve had this talk! You’re the owner now, you can’t curse around the athletes.”

He kisses my cheek, his face the picture of innocence. “I’m sorry, I’ve offended the reigning Olympic champion. Tell me what my punishment is, I’ll gladly get on my knees to make it up to you.”

An impish grin graces his sexy lips, and I can’t help the wetness that pools low in my core. “Stop distracting me. I am in the middle of my practice.”

“I can show you a great workout. It’s just in my office, it’ll only take a few minutes. Ten tops.” The teasing glint in those green eyes almost has me saying yes.

But no. I need to focus. I may have four years until the next Olympics, but I’ll need every second of it if I plan to stay on top.

“No rest for the wicked, I get it. But I’ll show you that workout tonight. At home.” Spence swaggers off, going to check on Rourke and his gymnasts.

That’s right, he’ll get me at home tonight. Our home. After I got back from Rio and the majority of the hype over my win and the team win died down, I’d come back to Ocean City. Spence and I are now renting a two-bedroom condo about ten minutes from his gym, perfect for the commute and a good amount of space. A spare room so that soon, my family will be able to come visit us for a trip. We’ve been living together for about a month, and so far, there have been no major issues. Well, besides the fact that Spence is a closet neat freak. Leave a dish out in his kitchen and you’ll hear about where the dishwasher is or how there is a sponge in the sink. It’s a surprise for sure, but it’s actually annoyingly cute, so I don’t mind it.

In addition to moving in with him, I also agreed to train at Garden State Gymnastics. With two requests that is. I make any and all decisions about my routines … and Spencer is my coach at any and all competitions. We decided together that I’d try for another Olympics. It was what I wanted all along, but I needed my man on board with me. We didn’t make big decisions anymore without first consulting the other. Apparently, that’s how love worked, or so Spencer had told me one night as he shoved his face in my tits.

One perk of dating the reigning Olympic champion, and signing her to your gym, was that other gymnasts followed. Specifically, former Filipek’s gymnasts. Anna, James and Julia have joined GSG, and Jared and Duke also train here now, too. Quinn is back in Alabama, although we talk weekly. Dozens of other gymnasts who used to train with Novak have also come to train with Spencer, rounding out his gym at a healthy three hundred athletes training here per week.

And talk about a natural born coach and owner. Spencer is the picture of professionalism with the parents, and the most supportive and encouraging coach I’ve ever seen. I always knew he’d be able to do this if he just believed it … and he finally does. Although our relationship tends to skew in the comedic or flirty direction, I’ve had some sappy moments over the past three months where I’ve broke down and told him how proud I am.

I’ve been in touch with Grace, who is in a rehabilitation center dealing with the fallout of her eating disorder. She seems to be in better spirits every time I talk to her. I hope one day she can return to gymnastics in a healthy way, but right now I think she and her parents are just taking everything one step at a time.

As for Novak, no decision has come down from the IOC yet about what his punishment will be. I hope they ban him, for the sake of all gymnasts everywhere. But even if they don’t, there is no snowball’s chance in hell he can come back from this. No parent in their right mind would ever let that psychopath train their child.

“I can’t believe I’m back in a fucking gym.” The loud thump of a bag dropping onto the tile of the lobby catches my attention.

The black-haired raven teeters on her four-inch stilettos, the big round sunglasses hiding any expression she might have.

“Look what the cat dragged in …” I stalk up to her.

“Give me a hug, bitch, I know you’re happy to see me.”

I grab Peyton, pulling my friend in for a much needed hug. “You smell amazing.”

“Try getting out of a gym for once, the scent of chalk will slowly evaporate from your skin.” She lifts the huge glasses from her eyes and plants them on her head. “This place isn’t half bad, the man child has done well. I can’t believe I’m fucking going on this tour, by the way.”

When Grace had to drop out of the post-Olympic tour, a twenty-city arena spectacle featuring the USA’s best gymnasts, someone had to take her place. Being the gold medalist that I was, I pulled some strings. I missed Peyton, and I knew she missed the sport. She was experienced, had been on the tour four years ago, and was friends with a majority of the gymnasts going.

“If I can’t take my boyfriend, you bet your ass I’m bringing my best friend.”

Being the owner of a new gym, Spencer could not up and leave with me for three months. While I was going to miss him like crazy, he was going to fly out to some of the tour dates for a night or two. We’d make it work, that’s just the way things were now.

“No one told me she was coming on the tour, man …” I hear Jared pull Spence aside, his tone just a little too audible.

“Nice to see you too, Jared. Did you miss me?” Peyton taunts him, and I can already tell the next three months are going to get interesting.

Jared turns the color of a cherry, his eyes bulging with anger, before storming off without a word.

Yeah, things are going to get
very
interesting.

Peyton walks off to hug Julia, and Spence walks back over.

“So, that’s not going to end well …” He pulls me into an embrace.

I love that we no longer have to hide from anyone.

“Yeah, whatever. She’s a firecracker and he’s more straight-laced than a Marine. How did they ever … you know?”

Spence chuckles. “No idea, baby. No idea.”

I squeeze his waist, his naked abs jumping beneath my caress. Yeah, even though he’s the owner, he still hasn’t gotten used to wearing shirts.

“You know you’re going to have to come save me every now and then from that madness. I’m going to miss you so much.”

Spence bends low, nipping at my earlobe. “Don’t worry, baby. There are foam pits all over the country I still need to test out with you. I would never miss that chance.”

His promise heats my blood. I’m glad we also didn’t miss our chance.

The sun hits the wall behind the front desk in exactly the right spot, a glimmer of gold blinds me. Hanging right above the computer and check in counter is my gold medal from Rio in a case.

I’d made Spence hang it there as a symbol of what we’d achieved together. And all of the success to come.