Sasha Beloff was feeling devious and for once in the last few months it had nothing to do with his love life. He hung up the phone with the ranking member of the United States National Gymnastics Committee and swiveled around in his desk chair. "Yes," he whispered, allowing himself a celebratory moment. It was rare the powers that be in the gymnastics world lined up with his thinking and Sasha could scarcely believe that the idea that had been a mere passing thought at the hotel after the All-Around competition, had come full circle in only a few days.
"You look pretty happy," Kim Keeler said as she walked into the office, putting her bag down on her desk. "What's up?"
"The National Committee just replaced Ellen Beals as the Women's head coach," he said, a smiling playing across his face.
Kim's eyes lit up, much the way her daughter's did, "That's amazing news, Sasha. Was it because of what happened in London with Lauren?"
He nodded, "They've retained her at their headquarters for some administrative duties, but I'd say most of her power over us and the girls is gone."
"Well, who'd they replace her with?" she asked.
Sasha's smile faded a bit, but it had after all, been his idea, "My father, Boris Beloff."
Kim's brow furrowed, "I thought – Payson said that you didn't get along with your father."
He shook his head, "I don't. That's neither here nor there. He is a great gymnastics coach and in one fell swoop Ellen Beals is out, Romania, one of our biggest competitors is down a head coach for the second time in less than a year and our girls will definitely benefit from his expertise."
"I wonder how they convinced him to leave the Romanian team?" she said.
Sasha smiled, "They didn't…I did."
He saw Payson walking across the hotel lobby and his eyes followed her all the way to the elevator bay before focusing again on what his father was saying.
"Dalca is an excellent gymnast, Sasha, but she is too old. Nineteen with the Olympics still a year and a half away. It is a shame and no promising talent on the horizon, as they say."
Sasha nodded sympathetically or at least hoping it appeared he was sympathetic. In actuality he could not care less that Romanian gymnastics had gone to hell. Any connection he had to the team had been severed and all of his gymnasts had moved on long ago, "I'm sure you'll find someone that will reignite the glory of Romanian gymnastics." He grimaced. Those were the same words his father had used on the day he walked out of the gym and went back to London to train with Nicolai.
"Sasha, my boy, there is no one else. Now, those girls you have, at your Rock, those girls I would train."
Suddenly, Ellen Beals appeared in Sasha's view, marching across the lobby, barking into her cell phone. He was sure she was up to no good, yet again. He looked up at his father and something clicked in his head, "What would you say if I told you that might be possible?" he asked.
Boris's eyes lit up like a child in a candy shop. "What do you mean, Sasha? I know we do not get along so well, but you would not play with my emotions in this way."
Sasha looked his father in the eyes, "If USA Gymnastics offered you the job of coaching the Women's National team, what would you say?"
Boris squinted at him, probably to make sure he wasn't drunk, "Not coach for Romania? I do not know. Besides, the US has coaches, you and that Beals woman."
"I'm just a floor coach, there because I have four athletes on the team. What if they asked, Dad?"
"To coach this team, the team you brought to London, to bring them back to London in 2012?" Boris paused, but Sasha knew it was mostly for effect. He knew he had his father from the moment he mentioned it. Despite the old man's pride and loyalty to his country, both he and his father were fisherman and they both knew that Sasha had the perfect lure. "I would say, yes."
"I'll speak to them and the end of training today. They should hear it from me and know that I support the idea," he said and Kim nodded, agreeing.
"Don't forget, I won't be in for the next two days," she said, "I'll be up in Minnesota. High School reunion," she said, the same sarcastic expression that Payson wore whenever she had to do something she didn't want to crossed over her face.
"Right," he said. "I'll see you Monday morning then."
He stood and made his way down the stairs onto the floor, watching his gymnasts hard at work. He nodded to Tara who was on the vault with the Level 9 gymnasts. She gave him a quick shake of the head to let him know that her group wasn't ready for him yet. He nodded and moved towards the beam, where Payson was working on her new mount, more difficult than the forward walk-over to a handstand she had done at Worlds and the test event. She had talked him into a round-off Arabian to lead into the walkover. She was definitely creating her own hybrid style of gymnastics, as she incorporated more power into her routines now that she was used to her new height and had fully embraced the artistry he had integrated into her routines. She was a new kind of gymnast, not purely artistic or relying solely on her power, but a delicate mix that was currently dominating the sport. The European judges loved her flawless execution; the Western judges loved her power and precision. It was an unbeatable combination and there wasn't a gymnast in the world at the elite level capable of doing it besides Payson Keeler.
"How's it going over here? How many times have you fallen off this morning?" he asked, a mocking edge to his voice. Payson rarely fell off the beam, sometimes looking like an absolutely wild woman fighting her body to stay on, but her feet were like glue on this event.
Payson laughed, jogging to the edge of the mat and performing the mount again.
He observed the move carefully, noting that while it was well done, she would be able to hold the handstand longer, thus receiving a higher execution mark, if she adjusted the angle of her body just slightly.
"Payson," he said, calling her down from the beam.
She leapt down from the apparatus. "It's not right," she said, frowning at the beam itself.
"Your weight, it's pushing forward too soon and you're losing your center of gravity," he said. "It's an easy fix, do a handstand on the line," he said, indicating the white line of tape on the floor. He knelt next to her and pushed his hand against her stomach. "Push back, but don't overcompensate," he said and he felt her abdominal muscles shift slightly under his hand. "Good," he said, moving away. "Finish," he said, and she slowly lowered her legs, her feet landing precisely on the tape. He stepped behind her, "Same thing," he said, his hand snaking around to push against her stomach, "and the extension in your arms." He grasped her wrists, giving a gentle tug and she extended more fully. "Now up on your toes," he instructed and she pushed up, her back arching, her body fitting perfectly within his, her head against his shoulder, her bum nestled firmly against his thighs. He allowed himself a moment to simply enjoy holding her, but just a moment, pulling away quickly.
"Did you feel that?" he asked, his double meaning clear. She nodded, a twinkle in her eyes, and he smirked at her. "Do it again," he said. She did it again, executed flawlessly down to the point of her toes and the placement of her fingers. "Excellent," he said, giving her a quick squeeze on her shoulder. Later, Beloff. She's staying late tonight, plenty of time later. He quickly shifted his focus back on his work, moving towards the floor where Emily was working hard on her tumbling passes.
Kim Keeler had noticed a change in Sasha lately. Nothing overt or obvious, but a gradual shift from someone who rarely smiled, worry lines making a premature appearance across his forehead, to a man who wasn't exactly carefree, but definitely more at peace with whatever demons he'd been fighting. She wondered if maybe he was seeing someone, but there was no way she was going to ask him. She'd crossed that line once, getting involved, if ever so slightly, in his brief relationship with Summer, the indirect result of which had been Summer cutting back her hours at the Rock and actively looking for another full time job.
She watched Sasha make his way through the gym, athletes parting like the Red Sea as he walked by. He stopped by the beam, where her daughter was working on a round-off Arabian walk-over mount. He said something that made Payson laugh and they smiled at each other before her daughter jogged to the edge of the mat, flipped her way onto the beam, stopping her momentum with her legs in midair and then using her flexibility to walk over and plant her feet on the four inches of space that awaited them.
Payson stopped and looked at him and he motioned for her to come down off the beam, towards the white line of tape the girls used to perfect their moves. He said something, likely an instruction since she stepped back and put herself into a handstand. Without hesitation, knelt down, placed a hand on her stomach and another on her calves, indicating something. He stood and Payson completed the walk over and Sasha moved behind her, pushing against her stomach again and then each of his hands reaching for hers, placing them exactly where he wanted. He leaned down and said something in her ear quietly and she saw Payson rise to her tiptoes, and arch her back into him.
For a moment Kim could almost swear they both had their eyes closed, but then she blinked and Sasha was moving away, "Did you feel that?" she heard him ask and Payson nodded. "Do it again," he said, stepping away completely. Payson completed the move, exactly the way he instructed. "Excellent," he said, moving past her, giving her shoulder a squeeze, but his focus had already shifted to the floor where Emily was working.
Kim shrugged and went back to her desk. She wasn't sure what was responsible for the change, but she was happy for him.
Payson turned the corner of the women's locker room out into the new addition to the Rock, the Cruz Fitness Center, donated by Alex Cruz after his daughter's battle with anorexia. Having a fitness center at the Rock helped the coaches keep a close eye on girls while they did their cardio and additional workouts, plus it brought in additional funds from people off the streets who wanted to join just to use the state of the art facility. Everyone had gone home for the night and just as they had planned this morning over breakfast, she and Sasha were alone.
He was on a treadmill, working at a light jog on a small incline. "Hey," he said, catching a glimpse of her in the mirror in front of him as she approached.
"Hi," she said, turning her own machine on and setting the incline slightly higher than his, but at a similar speed. She didn't have a chronic knee issue to worry about.
"Did you mum get on the plane okay?" he asked, not breaking stride.
"Yeah and I dropped Becca off at er – Lily's house, I think. She's a level nine?" Payson said.
"Lily Castleton. Level nine," Sasha confirmed.
Payson shook her head, "I didn't realize it was a Rock friend. I was stupid enough to go up to the door. Her mother practically dragged me into the house to show off her daughter's trophies and then asked what I thought Lily's potential was."
Sasha rolled his eyes. "Ah, yes, Mrs. Castleton," he said with a smirk. Of course, he'd remember the mother, she probably tried to slobber all over him once or twice. Now, Payson, retract claws and behave.
Payson snorted at his reaction. "Yes, she was wearing one of her ridiculous outfits. I'll never understand why women get breast implants. They never look real."
"Don't feel real either," he muttered, but she heard him loud and clear. Her mouth twisted into a smirk as she pressed a few buttons quickly and her machine slowed down before stopping completely. She quietly got off the treadmill and began to walk away.
"Payson? I didn't mean anything by it," he said, turning his head, but not being able to for long as his machine was still going. She stopped and caught his gaze in the mirror. Are you going to follow or not? She did not have to say it aloud; she just raised an eyebrow at him, before turning back towards the locker rooms, pulling off her t-shirt as she went. Suddenly the gym was quiet, the sound of his steadily paced jog and the whirring of the treadmill silenced and she smiled as she continued towards the locker room. There was something she wanted to try and now was as good a time as ever. She pulled the band from her hair letting it fall down around her shoulders and quickly kicked off her sneakers and socks. She left him a trail of clothing as she went, her sports bra followed, then her shorts before he caught up to her just outside the doors to the women's showers.
She felt his hand on her arm. He spun her around and immediately brought his mouth to hers for a kiss, their tongues engaging in a familiar battle. He'd removed his shirt on his journey to her and the feeling of their bodies pressed together, something neither of them had felt in a long time, was enough to make their limbs tremble and their breathing to accelerate. His tongue trailed a path down her neck and over her shoulders, but she pulled back before they could get too caught up, taking him by the hand. She locked their eyes together, before leading him into the women's showers, "So, I have this fantasy…" she said and trailed off as they entered a stall.
He cleared his throat and smiled, "Do you?"
She nodded, "Yep, and I was wondering if you'd like to indulge me?" she asked, reaching behind her for the handle and turning it on. The water cascaded out of the showerhead and she backed into it, soaking her hair first. By the time the droplets reached her shoulders, he was upon her, kissing her fiercely, with an intensity she'd never felt from him before. Has he been holding back this whole time? She gave as good as she got, wrapping her arms around his torso, pulling him closer, allowing the water to soak them both. Their chests pressed together and she threw her head back, exposing her neck to him. He complied immediately, nipping at the damp flesh with his teeth, and then soothing the skin with his lips. Their mouths came together again and this time their lower bodies bumped, causing both to cry out softly. She felt his hands at the small of her back shift slightly, as his fingers dipped gently into the waistband of her panties. He pulled back from the kiss and they both stared at each other for a moment.
Now or never, Keeler, she told herself and taking a shaky breath, she grasped one of his wrists and brought it around towards her front, placing it low on her stomach. Their eyes met and he seemed confused for a moment, before she saw comprehension dawn on his face. She smiled and kissed his lips lightly and his hand slipped lower.
It could have been hours later, but Payson knew in reality it had only been minutes. They were wedged into the titled corner of the shower, the water had turned cool, but it felt wonderful against their overheated bodies. She sat between his legs, her back to his chest while he placed soft kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders.
She sighed, "I know it happened before, that day in the trailer, after Christmas," she said, linking their hands together. She brushed her lips against his knuckles, before pulling his arm around her, their joined hands resting on the soft skin of her stomach. "This was different, though," she said, knowing her voice was giving away the absolute awe she was feeling right now. "I wish that we could…" she trailed off, not willing to say the words out loud.
She could feel his smile against her neck and then he placed another kiss there. "I know," he said. She could hear the gentle understanding in his voice and her heart clenched with love for this man holding her in his arms. "Come on, let's get dressed. We'll order some food. You're staying here tonight?" he asked.
She sighed, "I'd stay forever if I could."