Edge of Glory Read online

  Elise avoided it all—the crowds, the camaraderie, and the cameras. She told herself she didn’t want any distractions, and she didn’t. She’d worked hard and made too much progress to let up now. She was still weeks behind her competition, and she couldn’t afford to slow down long enough to even take in the excitement building around her. That’s why she’d stayed in tonight when everyone else had headed down the road to the hockey arena. She had the facility to herself for the first time in days, and she intended to use the time productively.

  She sat on a bench near a bank of lockers and stripped off her shoes and socks, checking carefully for signs of blisters. So far so good. The shirt hit the floor next, and she grimaced as she lowered her arms, taking stock of the aches in her shoulders and the slight pinch under her right scapula. Still, aches and minor pains were part of training. She’d certainly had worse. Then again, if she had enough pain to drive her to the training room on a Friday night in August, how would she feel after a race in February?

  “No,” she mumbled, shaking her head and stripping off her navy track pants to reveal a set of black boy-short swim bottoms. She tried not to inspect the scars on her right knee, as they always made her a little nauseated, but she couldn’t avoid pressing her index fingers to the swollen tissue around them. She also made note of a few new bruises along her calf and ankle. Where had those come from? Her ski boots during the start gate simulations? Her tumble off the balance board yesterday? Or maybe when she’d slipped on the climbing wall the day before? Panic rose in her chest at the realization that any one bruise could signal a deeper problem. Which exercise would be the one to reveal her as unfit? Paolo had her cross training harder and in more varied forms than ever before. A few bumps and bruises should probably be expected, right?

  “Right,” she answered her own question aloud as she walked over to a tub large enough to border on the size of a small pool. Totally normal to need to sneak into a training center after her own trainer had called it a night. It wasn’t as though she intended to do anything against the rules. Cold baths were standard operating procedure for athletes trying to minimize swelling or cut down on rebound time. Of course, most of them weren’t also trying to prove themselves on a tightrope of pain and expectations.

  She climbed the steps to the cold pool and sat on the shellacked wood railing, hesitating only because she didn’t relish the thought of dropping into the fifty-five degree water, and not because she probably shouldn’t be in here alone. God, what if she shouldn’t be here at all? What if she’d made a mistake in not telling Paolo how sore she felt? What if she needed rest or massage or something else? No, she knew her body well enough to make these decisions for herself. If she’d told Paolo she needed an ice bath he would’ve arranged it for her. She’d merely cut out the middleman to let him enjoy a night out with friends. The logic was sound, but the rationale didn’t stop her from jumping when the door to the training room swung open and someone flipped on a bank of overhead lights.

  She steadied herself on the edge of the pool once more, then braced herself to confront her company, excuses already spinning through her brain. If it was a trainer, she’d say Paolo’d approved the treatment and plead her case to him later. If the person was another athlete, she’d act natural. Worst of all would be a USSA official, but she could always try to spin it as though she’d felt so good earlier she’d done an extra workout and say a cold bath was standard procedure after increasing her load. They probably wouldn’t believe her. They’d doubted her all along, which was why she’d rather face just about anyone else right now.

  “Oh, hey, sorry. Elise?” the words all spilled out of Corey in the instant she stepped into view, and then she laughed loudly. “Shit, you scared me.”

  Scared wasn’t exactly the right word for what Elise felt at Corey’s presence. More like a mix between relief and annoyance. She supposed having her walk in would be better than being caught by an official, at least in the long run, but she also suspected there’d be no getting rid of her now.

  “Good evening, Corey.” She wondered if her voice managed to sound as cool as the water below.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  “I’m getting ready for a cold bath.”

  Corey ambled over and leaned against the side rail, her interest seemingly engaged now. “Why?”

  “Because it’s good practice.”

  “Practice for what? Iditarod? Polar Bear Plunge?”

  She rolled her eyes and deadpanned, “A good practice for rejuvenating muscles. You see, it reduces swelling and constricts blood vessels. Then when you warm up, blood rushes back in, flushing out waste to speed healing.”

  “Uh, yeah . . . I’m pretty clear on that. But why are you using the cold bath right now. Alone. On a Friday night,” Corey asked, concern finally filtering through her normally playful tone.

  “It’s a standard part of my recovery.” The comment wasn’t a total lie. She and Paolo spent plenty of time using various cold therapies.

  “If it’s a normal part of your workout, why didn’t you do it earlier with Paolo?”

  She clenched her jaw and then released it, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I gave him the night off.”

  Corey nodded and smiled. “So you really do think I’m stupid, huh?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “All your comments the other day about me being a joke weren’t just you losing your temper or lashing out in frustration. You view me as some sort of village idiot.”

  “Corey, I . . . I’m . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s only the two of us here now. Why not cut the crap, because I can handle anger. I can withstand the cold shoulder and the snotty comments, but I’m not a fan of playing games.”

  “I’m not playing games.”

  “You’re slipping into a cold pool with the lights off, after hours, and without the supervision of a trainer. None of those things point to a night off, but more than that, I’ve spent a lot of time with Paolo over the last few weeks, and I know him well enough to call bullshit on his behalf. If he knew you were here, he’d be here, too.”

  Elise hung her head. “Fine, Paolo doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “Great. If you’d led with that, I would’ve told you I have zero shits to give about your sneaking around on your trainer. Do you think I call Nate every time I have a cheat day and eat twelve tacos?”

  “I don’t even know what to say. Twelve tacos?”

  Corey shook her head. “I’m a snowboarder. We’re rule benders. I’m not going to narc on you, but don’t lie to me. If you want me to shut my trap and move along, say so.”

  “You’d really walk away if I told you to?”

  Corey frowned but said, “Yeah. I would.”

  “And you wouldn’t run to your posse and tell them what a bitch I was?”

  “No. I might not love bitchy Elise, but I respected you more when you were yelling instead of lying.”

  Her stomach churned at the statement. She’d been either a bitch or a liar, and still Corey wouldn’t turn against her. Even though she’d been nothing but awful, while Paolo had become a friend, Corey would still cover for her. “Why protect me? Why even speak to me, much less honor my wish to keep this quiet?”

  Corey shrugged. “Your body, your business.”

  She laughed. “My body has been a lot of people’s business for a long time.”

  “Yeah,” Corey sighed. “I guess we’ve all been there.”

  The sudden wistfulness in her tone made Elise wonder if maybe she had underestimated her seriousness. Corey’s hazel eyes certainly carried more understanding than she’d ever given her credit for. Maybe that’s what gave her the nudge to continue with an explanation she would’ve normally withheld. “I’ve got a lot of people betting against me. Even Paolo has moments of doubt. He’s got gray hairs popping up in the stupid three-day beard he keeps trying to grow, and I know I put them there. I see the new wrinkles on his forehead, a
nd I know each one represents a “What if” he won’t say. ‘What if we push too hard? What if I reinjure myself? What if we’re not ready in time? What if I never get back to where I was? What if—?’”

  “Hey,” Corey whispered. “You gotta stop. You have to breathe.”

  She hadn’t even noticed her breath had grown shallow and her heart rate accelerated.

  “You’re going to make yourself crazy with those what ifs. And you can’t obsess about Paolo’s worries either. He’s a big boy. He made his choices. He could’ve bolted. It sounds like plenty of others did.”

  She winced. “Yeah, plenty of them did.”

  “Well, fuck ’em,” Corey said forcefully. “Fuck every one of them and the skis they slid in on. Did you want a bunch of freeloaders and good-time Charlies riding the Elise Brandeis bandwagon?”

  “Um, I think the answer to that question is ‘no.’”

  “Damn right.” Corey slapped her open palm on the side of pool. “No love for the haters.”

  “Some of those so-called haters are sponsors. Some of them work for the USSA. If they caught me in here right now, they wouldn’t be as easygoing as you.”

  “They don’t own you,” Corey said, her cheeks flushing pink. “They don’t own your name. They don’t own your body. Get in the pool.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what you came here for, right? It’s your right. You’re an Olympian, damn it. This is your facility. You don’t have to sneak around. You’re doing nothing wrong.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  Corey’s momentum faltered. “Well, maybe you should talk to Paolo. He cares about you, but you don’t owe anyone else anything.”

  She smiled. “I almost believe you.”

  “Almost?” Corey laughed. “That was a good speech. You’re a tough crowd.”

  “Yeah, not to detract from your rousing pep talk, but it’s still going to be me alone in the pool.”

  “Oh, I see. We’ve reached a money-where-my-mouth-is moment.” Corey kicked off her tennis shoes and peeled off her socks.

  “What?”

  “Move over.” Corey whipped off her shirt, leaving her in only a black sports bra and a pair of basketball shorts. “I’m coming in.”

  “You’re crazy.” Elise laughed. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I can’t be outdone by you in the rebel department. I’d lose all my credibility as the resident rabble-rouser.”

  Elise shook her head, but she couldn’t argue with the logic. Well, maybe she could’ve argued, but with laughter in the air and Corey’s beautiful body exposed and so close, she simply didn’t want to.

  • • •

  “Holy shit balls, mother of frozen tundra, damn, hell, icy ass fucktrumpet.” Corey let fly every curse that sprang to mind as she splashed down into the frigid water.

  “Wow, you have an extensive vocabulary,” Elise said, an amusement in her voice Corey had never heard before.

  “You haven’t even heard the beginning of it,” Corey said through gritted teeth. “How long do we stay in here?”

  “Let’s just do ten minutes,” Elise said, easing into the water much more gracefully and with only a slight grimace.

  “Oh sure, only ten minutes. How long did those people on the Titanic last?”

  “It’s not that bad, you big baby.”

  “You’re right. It’s not bad at all, until it hits your who-ha.”

  “Did you call your female anatomy a who-ha?”

  “Yes, yes I did.” Corey pouted. “As you pointed out, I have an extensive vocabulary, but when that body part is submerged in ice water, it definitely feels like a who-ha.”

  Elise rolled her eyes, but this time the expression seemed more playful than annoyed as the corners of her mouth also curled up. She had a pretty mouth when she wasn’t scowling. Corey much preferred even the little smile to the anguish she’d seen flash across those beautiful features moments earlier. Something inside her had twisted painfully when Elise had talked about all the people who’d abandoned her when she’d gotten hurt. At least her own exile had been self-imposed. She couldn’t stand to think of the bewilderment Elise must’ve felt when she’d woken up in the hospital to realize her fair-weather friends had all moved on to the next big thing.

  She started to shiver, either from the cold or from the direction her mind had wandered. “How long have we been in here now?”

  “About thirty seconds,” Elise said evenly.

  “Are you sure? Are you counting?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know?” Corey spun around in the water. “Where’s the clock.”

  Elise sighed. “Hold still. I’ll set the stop watch on my Fitbit if you promise to stop squirming.”

  “Won’t squirming make me warmer?”

  “First of all,” Elise said, pushing a few buttons on her watch and folding her arms neatly across the side of the pool, “you’re in a cold bath to get cold, or at least to make your muscles cold.”

  “You’re in a cold bath to make your muscles cold. I’m in the cold bath because I’m a rebel without a cause.”

  “Regardless of your cause or lack of one, squirming will make you colder. The water you’re warming with your body temperature will swish away and be replaced by fresher, colder water.”

  “You’re like super smart about these things, huh?” Corey asked, trying to mimic Elise’s stance by folding her arms on the rail and holding her lower body completely still. The water came to her chest, chilling everything below with little pinpricks of cold. Holding still wasn’t ever her strong suit, and doing so under this much discomfort would only make the task harder, but if Elise could hang tough, she could, too. “I bet you study a lot.”

  “I’ve studied a lot of various therapies, yes.” Elise’s voice turned almost as cold as the water below.

  “Hmm,” Corey made the noncommittal noise, unsure of what land mine she’d triggered, and worried there might be some more in the area.

  “Hmm, what?”

  “Hmm, nothing. Hmm, I’m hungry and cold.”

  “Now who’s bullshitting?”

  Corey laughed. “Good call. You tensed up. I wondered if I said something wrong inadvertently. You don’t know me well, but I actually do that a lot.”

  “What, inadvertently say the wrong thing?”

  “Shocking, I know, what with me being so smooth all the time.”

  “Yeah, you could knock me over with a feather. After you told me what you call chair pose, I thought to myself, ‘Corey sure has a way with words.’”

  “I get that a lot, actually. I’m pretty likable.” She played up the jovial shtick even though she understood Elise hadn’t meant it as a compliment. She was smiling, which mattered more than the words she chose.

  “I’ve noticed you do have a following around here. I’m actually surprised you’re not down at the hockey arena tonight. I expected you and your entourage to be in the thick of all the excitement.”

  “Yeah, well, Holly is there, maybe on a date with Paolo actually, or hanging out, but I, well”—she let out a low whistle—“I may or may not have been a little too likable to one of Team USA’s goalies two years ago.”

  Elise raised her eyebrows. “Too likable?”

  “She was here for a week. We had some fun, maybe too much fun. What was supposed to offer a little light entertainment turned into a stage five clinger situation.”

  “Stage five clinger.” Elise shook her head. “There you go with your brilliant use of language again.”

  “I could’ve said she turned into a crazy stalker.”

  “I guess everything’s relative,” Elise admitted. “Do you run into her often?”

  “You wouldn’t think so, because hockey and snowboarding don’t have much in common, but they play here several times a year for national events, and since I live nearby, it’s harder to hide. She kind of slept over at my place. Hindsight’s 20/20 on that one.”

  “W
ait, ‘your place,’ as in a house with a real kitchen and non-dorm-style beds?”

  Corey nodded, then rested her chin atop her folded arms. The water wasn’t so bad since her lower extremities had gone numb. “Yeah, a log cabin in the woods. Why?”

  “Why in God’s name are you here?” Elise practically yelled.

  “I told you. Stage five clinger knows where I live. I have to sneak in the training room while she’s not around, then make sure she’s headed back here before I make my break for home tonight.”

  “I don’t mean tonight. I mean all the time. You’re never not here. You eat in the cafeteria every night. You hang out in the break rooms. Why?”

  She’d never given the question much thought. “Why not?”

  “Because dorms and cafeterias and break rooms are for people who can’t have the comforts of home. They’re a sad reminder of everything you miss while you’re away.”

  “Do other people really think of this place as somewhere they have to go?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Elise said emphatically.

  “That’s funny,” Corey said, though the thought actually made her sad. “I’ve always felt blessed to be here. It’s an Olympic training facility. Hundreds, if not thousands, of athletes would kill to have an opportunity like this, and it’s right in my backyard.”

  “But the food?”

  “The food is free, made by someone else, cleaned up by someone else, and especially suited to athletes’ diets.”

  “But surely you’ve got more comfortable furniture at your house than the breakroom couches.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted, “but the breakrooms are filled with interesting people. Athletes and trainers and officials come from all over to study all kinds of different things. If you engage them, you hear the best stories and learn the coolest things. In my house, it’s just me.”

  Elise turned to face her fully now, her blue eyes filled with curiosity instead of their usual frost, but before she could say anything, the timer on her watch began to beep.

  Corey nearly cursed the sound. Ten minutes ago she wouldn’t have thought it possible to want anything more than she wanted out of the water, but now she would’ve gladly withstood the discomfort another minute or two to hear what Elise would’ve said. Instead, she watched Elise straighten her arms and haul her beautiful body onto the railing. The water ran in rivulets down her cold, tightened muscles. Funny, Corey didn’t feel cold at all anymore.