Sasha's eyes flew open, his heart pounding in his chest like he'd just run a marathon. His entire body was dripping with sweat. He sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly. Just a dream, Beloff, just a dream. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, before throwing the blankets off his overheated body. But what a dream it was. He shook his head as images of the raw and passionate scene his subconscious had created for him flashed through his mind. Their lovemaking had been slow and fulfilling and perfect, but not a reality, nothing but a distant possibility.
You'll get there, old boy, but there are more important things on the horizon.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed and headed for the shower, hoping to let the hot water and the rapidly fading images give him a desperately needed release from the constant state of arousal he seemed to be in. He felt like a teenager, not totally in control of his body and that was unacceptable. He'd been the master of his own body for more than a decade now, it never letting him down except for the near catastrophic knee injury months before the Olympic Games in Sydney, but even that had been manageable enough to win four gold medals. No, in the end, a woman had been his undoing, just as his father had predicted it would be, but even Boris Beloff had no idea of exactly how that would play out. He'd surrendered willingly to her, something he had never imagined himself doing for anyone.
The shower was scalding hot and served its dual purpose well.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, almost relieved that the women did not have to compete today. He'd be able to sit in the crowd and observe. He sat down on the bed to pull his shoes on and unconsciously, rubbed his knee. He was twenty seven years old, twenty eight soon. If his knee hadn't given out on him, he could easily still be competing. Watching the men's all-around competition in 2004 as the head coach of the Romanian Women's team had been absolute torture for him, so much so that he'd actually considered making a comeback. His knee had quickly informed him that if he wanted to do gymnastics he'd have to do it on one leg and that had been that. He'd gone into a bit of a hole after that, disappearing from the gymnastics radar, until Steve Tanner had interrupted what he thought was going to be a peaceful day of fishing. Until Payson had run out of the Rock, asking him to stay, telling him that she needed him.
He grimaced when he thought of the way he behaved yesterday, like a spoiled kid who'd been asked to share his favorite toy. Payson had been annoyed at him, and rightfully so, but there was still a nagging sense of insecurity there. Not that he felt she didn't feel for him the way he felt for her, but sometimes he thought maybe it would be better for her if she didn't feel this way.
He'd had his heart broken before. He was strong and could handle it, but her, the thought of their relationship being something that ultimately hurt her, it made him sick. Maybe someone like Austin Tucker or Nicky Russo would be better for her. Someone closer to her age, someone she didn't have to hide with. What are you talking about, Beloff, did you forget your ridiculous 'no-dating' rule? She'd have to hide any relationship she had, like they all do. The truth was it wasn't his 'no-dating' rule. It had been instituted before he arrived and he felt that if it was working, there was no reason to change anything. He knew many of them disregarded it, but at the very least it forced his gymnasts to think long and hard about the worth of every relationship they entered into, knowing that it could very well cost them their career.
That was beside the point however, because the moment he saw Austin throw his arm around Payson's shoulders as they walked out of the arena the night before, every insecurity he had churning inside of him teamed up with his alpha-male instincts and had boiled over. His mind screamed at him to rip the young man's arm out of his socket, and then push Payson up against a wall somewhere until she was screaming his name with pleasure, letting the world know that she belonged to him.
He stood and looked quickly in the mirror, making sure he hadn't left any toothpaste on his mouth and turned to leave just as there was a knock on his door. Looking through the peephole he saw the object of his thoughts standing there, running her fingers through her blonde hair. He opened the door and smiled at her, "Hey," she said, "You ready? I think we're the only ones going, at least no one else has emerged from their rooms."
He nodded, "Yeah, let me just grab my jacket." She hovered in the doorway and he returned a second later. "Let's go," he said, making sure he had his hotel key and cell phone in separate pockets. "So, how was coffee last night?" He couldn't help himself, he was a masochist.
She snorted and rolled her eyes, "I think he thought that we could just pick up where we left off…" she trailed off suddenly, biting her lip, realizing that she wasn't just talking to her boyfriend, but her coach. "That is…"
"Relax, Payson. I realize that of every rule the Rock has, the no dating rule is the one most frequently broken."
She breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, Nicky and I never actually dated; it was more like…" she trailed off again and shook her head, "Sorry, you don't want to know. Let's just say last night put to bed any hopes he had in that regard." She says you don't want to know, but you desperately DO want to know, huh, Beloff?
"So what you and Russo had, it was just physical?" he asked, not being help to help himself.
"What?" Payson looked at him, panic evident in her voice. "No, God, no, it was completely innocent. He kissed me once, but that was it." They were in the elevator now and as the doors closed, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Is that what you were worried about yesterday? Nicky and Austin and me?"
Sasha had never been one to talk about his feelings, so he just shrugged, "Forget it," he said, lifting her hand to his lips and placing a small kiss on the back of her hand. "We're both right where we belong." The elevator doors opened and he quickly dropped her hand as they exited. Payson flipped her sunglasses down and pulled a hat on her head, the incognito look that sometimes worked to keep fans at bay. It was rare she had to do it, but when they were traveling for a meet, it was usually necessary. They left through the front entrance, the barricades keeping a few lingering fans away, the rest were probably already at the arena. The doorman had a taxi waiting and they were off. Immediately, he grabbed her hand again and he felt her squeeze it reassuringly.
"Did you eat?" he asked, feeling his stomach rumble. She shook her head, so he asked the cabbie, "Hey, we're going to grab breakfast at the Pilot Inn on River between West and East Parkside."
"Right-o," the cabbie said.
"It's a pub near the arena. Great breakfast," he said to Payson.
He was right; the breakfast looked phenomenal, not that Payson could have any of the ridiculously fatty filled things Sasha was currently stuffing into his mouth. She settled on fruit and some rye toast. "You're evil you know that, torturing me with the smell of bacon?" He smiled cheekily.
"One day, we'll come here again, after you've won gold and you can have whatever you like," he said, through a bite of his potatoes. At the thought of them sitting there, in a year and a half, eating breakfast together, just another couple having a meal sent a warm feeling through her.
"Promises, promises, Beloff," she said, taking another bite of melon. Suddenly from their right a flash went off. They looked and saw a member of the media, credentials for the test event hanging around his neck, smiling at them. He tipped his cap and strolled out of the restaurant.
Sasha sighed and she rolled her eyes. The rest of the restaurant's occupants looked at them curiously, but neither of them was famous enough to be recognized by most people on the street, so for the most part they went back to their breakfast having no idea why the photographer had snapped a picture of the couple.
Payson wanted to reach across the table and take his hand, but she wasn't sure if there were any lingering photographers around, so she satisfied herself, by pressing her leg against his under the table. "One day," she said, picking up her juice and taking a small sip.
He smiled at her, "Ready to go? The competition starts in an hour and I'd like to wish the guys good luck beforehand."
They paid the check and decided to walk to the arena. "Have you ever thought of moving back to England?" she asked him, looking around at the neighborhood around them. She liked London, liked the energy of the city and something about being in a place that had been around since the Roman Empire that appealed to her.
He looked at her and shrugged. "Not recently, but I suppose I always thought I'd come back eventually," he mused.
She sighed, "I like it here," she said, hoping he understood her. I wouldn't mind living here; in fact I think I'd love it.
He smiled at her and nodded, "I thought you would. You know I still have a house here?"
Her face brightened, "Do you? Where?"
"My mum's house actually, when she passed away she left it to me, her flat in New York too. The house is in Wimbledon, near the gym I used to train at, a little less than an hour from here, west of the city."
"So you have an apartment in New York, a house in Wimbledon and you live in the trailer outside the Rock?" she asked with a laugh.
"And don't forget the house in Cambria, but you don't like my trailer? I'm mortally offended," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "We've made some good memories in that trailer," he said, quietly, out of habit.
She smiled at him, "We certainly have," she said. "Let's not get nostalgic for it yet. In a couple of days, one of us will be cursing the damn thing, probably me if I stub my toe on the kitchen table again."
He laughed, "You never miss. That table is bolted to the bloody wall. It hasn't moved. You might try walking around it."
"What can I say? Usually I'm just so distracted by you I don't watch where I'm going. So really, it's entirely your fault," she said.
She looked up to see his eyes not twinkling in amusement like she expected but lit by a fire she recognized. It was the expression his face took on whenever he was about to kiss her. He grabbed her hand and yanked on it, pulling her into a small alcove between two buildings, completely hidden from the street. "Ever snogged in public?" he murmured to her. She shook her head as his lips lowered down to hers in what would have been a chaste kiss had his hands not been cupping her backside firmly. She leaned back against the wall and pulled him closer by his jacket. Each kiss seemed to blend into another until they were both breathing heavily. Their bodies were pressed together trying to satiate a need for each other they'd been denying since they arrived in England. They pulled away, their eyes still closed and their breaths mingling in the frigid winter air. "I've wanted to do that all morning," he said. Their eyes opened almost simultaneously.
Payson loved when he kissed her like that, like he needed her in order to breathe. In the moment when their lips met any lingering doubts from the night before suddenly melted away. "Happy to oblige," she said and reached up to wipe a bit of her lip-gloss from his mouth. Payson felt herself break into a very silly looking grin that he matched. "So maybe we're not an old married couple after all," she said, as they moved out of the alcove and back onto the sidewalk.
"Oh, no, what are we then?" he asked. They were almost to the arena and she could see the media lined up dutifully at their barricades.
"We're one of those couples," she said, nodding to herself. He shot her a confused look, so she explained further, "One of those couples you know that you don't want to be around because they are so sickeningly happy that it makes everyone else look miserable in comparison."
He laughed at her description, "Ah, yes one of those couples. Well, we can take solace in the fact that for at least another year and a half we won't be subjecting anyone to it and by then maybe we won't be quite as – nauseating."
She looked at him, the urge to kiss him again almost overwhelming and when he looked at her, she realized he was feeling it too. "We'll work on it," she said as they showed their passes at edge of the gate and went through towards the arena, passing the media as they shouted to them and snapped their photos.
The men's competition was much less crowded, though the crowd was definitely large, and much longer than the women's the day before. Sasha and Payson got to their seats just in time to see the first rotation begin. A few minutes later, a camera man must have spotted them because suddenly she and Sasha were up on the screen that hung from the ceiling with: 2000 Olympic Gold Medalist Sasha Beloff and 2010 World All-Around Champion, Payson Keeler, in case anyone wasn't sure who they were. Their seats were down low in a cordoned off section reserved for VIPs, which kept the majority of autograph seekers away, though not the media and soon there was a reporter from Universal Sports hovering, hoping for an interview. "Would you mind?" she asked in a way that made it almost impossible for Payson and Sasha to refuse.
Between the first and second rotations, they began, "Thanks, Tim, we're here with current World All-Around Champion, Payson Keeler and her coach, four time Olympic Gold Medalist, Sasha Beloff, who are here enjoying this event as spectators, at least for today. Tell me, Payson, how are you enjoying your first trip to London?"
Payson smiled, "It's been great. I think this is going to be an amazing place to have the Olympics. The facility is perfect and well, London is London, you don't get much better than that."
"And Sasha, what's it like being back in your old stomping grounds?"
"I hadn't been back in a while, so it's been nice. I think the competition is going well, also," he said, obviously hoping to redirect the conversation.
"Yes, it has, especially for the women who sit atop the leader board going into Day Two tomorrow, and this young lady in particular who qualified for the All Around in the top spot. We've been seeing the same solid performance from you as we did in Rotterdam. Do you think this competition will eliminate any doubts people about the judging at the World Championships?"
Payson nodded, "I understand why people were concerned, but I always let my gymnastics speak for itself. I can't control the judging. All I can do is go out there and do my routines. I'm happy with what I've done so far in competition here and that's all I can worry about."
"Sasha, now a gymnastics question, is there any truth to the rumor that Lauren Tanner won't be competing at all tomorrow after her fall on bars during yesterday's competition?"
Almost immediately Payson could feel the anger coming off Sasha in waves. He clenched his teeth together and his jaw twitched, "Sorry, I'm not going to comment on speculation. As always, tomorrow, Coach Beals and I will put out the team we feel will give us the best chance to win."
The reporter nodded, knowing she wasn't going to get much more than that, "Thank you Payson, Sasha, back to you, Tim, Al and Elfie."
"Thanks you two," she said as the camera man shut down and moved away. They each shook her hand and she left.
The tension was growing with each moment and Payson leaned forward to mask her actions as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. The look in his eyes was as hard as she'd ever seen him and quite frankly, it scared her. "I am going to kill Ellen Beals."