Kit
I sleep soundly for most of the flight home from Moscow, and feel pretty good as I traverse JFK airport and find my limo driver holding up my name on a iPad.
When I get stuck on I-287, I Skype her. “Hey, cherie. Turn on your camera, I want to see you.”
She does and I smile. She’s all sweaty with gym noises in the background.
“I miss you already.” Dammit. I should’ve have told her I loved her again while she was in my arms, screaming out my name.
Her face turns down. “I miss you, too. We can Skype every day, da?”
I’ve never wanted a long-distance relationship but then, no one has ever got under my skin like this woman. Right there, I decide to do everything in my power to keep her, forever.
The paperwork will be a nightmare. Still, my new lawyer is a miracle worker. He’ll figure it out if anyone can.
I need to know if she wants me. “Are you enjoying being on your own? Being free?”
She laughs. “For the first time in years I enjoy skating but to be a professional athlete, what freedom is there in that?”
I laugh with her. “I understand totally. I’ve got just one day left before training and after that, every hour of the day is scheduled for the next ten months.”
“Except for Chicago.” She looks a bit worried which makes me feel better.
“Right.”
Those almond eyes turn sad. “I need to go back before my muscles tighten up.”
“Bye, cherie. I loved spending time with you.” That’s pretty close to what I wanted to say.
“I loved it, too.” Her cheeks turn bright red, smile in place. “Talk soon.”
Every day we chat for hours. I tell her about escaping Bosnia at twelve, she tells me about losing her mother.
Because conversation is all I have to keep her, suddenly I have more to say to a woman than ever before. Hell, I talk more than Siri. And every damn time I hang up, it hurts more and all I can do is dream of her as we were in Moscow.
The first game of the season, I need to punish a player who tripped me as I was about to score. The fucking referee never called it so he must be blind. Either that, or crooked, eh? Whatever. You don’t fuck with me, and get away with it.
It becomes a huge brawl but they end up with more in the penalty box than us. With that advantage, the Rangers take the lead and win. When I shake hands with the guys on the other team, I shoot them my toothless grin and they do the same. After icing down, like always, I Skype Sonia.
“What is it?” I’m shocked to see red eyes full of tears and her nose red.
“Russia extradited my father. He’s in Moscow.”
Ah fuck. “I’m coming.”
“Nyet. This week I’m in Stockholm, then in Toronto.”
“Has he contacted you?”
“No.”
“What about Leonid?”
“He’s still in New York.”
“Cherie, then why the tears.”
She sniffs. “I’m not crying. I have a slight cold.”
“Sonia? This is me, Kit, eh? You don’t have to lie. Look into the camera and tell me what’s wrong.” I know she’s been skating better than she ever has, so it’s not that.
“I miss you. I miss your body next to mine. The way you smell, the way you make me feel. To Skype is good but it is not you.”
Ah, fuck. “We knew when we started dis thing, it wouldn’t be easy. You’re not giving up on me, are you?” I hold my breath because for the next few months, I’m booked solid except for three days around Christmas.
“No. You?”
“Never. Tell you what. When I get out of the rink, I’ll call you back.
“Okay.”
“Kit?”
“Uh, huh.”
“I think maybe… maybe I think… I’m in love with you.”
“I loved you, angel, since the day I first laid eyes on you, in Sochi.” Holy shit. I wasn’t prepared for that but I got quick reflexes, eh?
“Nyet. You hated me.”
I laugh. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. “Only that you were seventeen. I’ve had wet dreams about you since that day, and still do.”
She’s smiling now and I think we’ll make it until Christmas.
After that, every second I have between games and working out, we talk. As she says goodbye, she says, “I love you.”
Hell yeah, I say it back.