NEVER BE THE SAME
Could I be moving much too fast or way too slow
'Cause all of my life, I've waited for this day
To find that once in a lifetime, this is it, I'll never be the same
The Last Time - Eric Benét
CHAPTER ONE
He doesn't mean to fall in love.
Despite the looks he catches her giving him and the lingering handshake when they first meet, she's the consummate professional. He's definitely attracted to her: to her long, lithe body, her model good looks, the way she treats his daughter, even as she pushes her to be a better fencer.
Alexis takes to fencing like a fish to water. He doesn't mind that it's an unconventional sport, or that it means they have limited coaching choices, even in a city as big as New York. But his daughter clicks with Kate, so he gladly accompanies her to practice and writes the checks.
The attraction to Kate doesn't hurt.
Just a few months into Alexis's lessons, Kate pulls him aside after a small tournament to tell him that his daughter is good. Not just good enough to beat the local competition, but, even at fifteen, is good enough to compete against people with more experience.
"I don't want to jinx anything, or get your hopes up too high," Kate explains, "but if she keeps this up, we could be looking at national competitions."
A week later, Alexis fractures her wrist. Not her dominant one, so she can still practice, but Kate insists she stay out of competitions until the wrist is fully healed. To make up for the lost time, Kate comes over at least once a week, so she can still teach Alexis and not risk further injury.
After one of these practices, he invites her to stay for dinner so they can get to know each other better.
Well, for him to get to know her. Because, although he attends every practice and competition, he knows little more than her professional resumé.
She'd begun fencing shortly after her mom passed away suddenly from cancer and her dad followed shortly after, she explains that night. "I was in college, and I struggled a lot." Her thumb traces the rim of her empty wine glass. "One of my girlfriends dragged me to her fencing class to get me out of my room, and I fell in love. It gave me something else to focus on."
"A distraction," he suggests.
"It was, at first," she agrees. "But after a few practices, I realized that it was helping me grieve. I don't know if that makes sense."
"It does."
"Anyway," she continues, "that's basically it. Fast forward a decade and a half, and here I am, coaching."
"With a stop at the Olympics," Rick points out with a smirk. "Don't sell yourself short, Kate. Winning a bronze medal is more than impressive."
Her cheeks flush, and she drops her gaze to her lap. "True. I try not to throw it in people's faces though."
"Hell, it's one reason why we picked you. And I'm glad we did."
He wants to kiss her that night, but he doesn't. And he resists the next week, and the next, until Alexis's first competition back from her injury.
Not only does Alexis beat her more experienced opponent by a healthy margin, but a representative from Team USA happens to be in the crowd. He approaches Rick and Kate after the match, and suggests that she attend the qualifiers for the US National Team the following spring.
"I should get home," Kate says later, after joining them for a celebratory dinner. She takes a final sip of her wine and stands, retrieves her purse from the back of her chair. "Are you sure I can't pay?"
Rick waves his hand to dismiss her question. "I wouldn't dream of it," he insists, pushing his chair back. "I'll walk you out."
She congratulates Alexis again, retrieves her coat from the hostess, nods her thanks when Rick opens the door for her. "Well, good night," she sighs, stepping to the side.
Rick takes her coat and holds it out for her, gives her a crooked smile as she slides her arms in and sweeps her hair out from under the collar. "Are you okay to drive?" he asks, the bottle of wine they'd shared coming to mind. "I'm happy to get you a cab."
"I can get my own cab, Rick," she teases, nudging his arm with her elbow. "Go back inside."
Oh, he likes this side of her, this loose, slightly flirty version he hasn't seen before. After telling him how she got into fencing a month before, he's noticed her relax around him, even become a little physical. A nudge against his arm, a hand on his shoulder. Small, incidental touches that could be nothing, but send warmth through his bloodstream every time.
He ignores her comment and steps close to the curb, his eyes peeled for familiar yellow cars. One appears almost immediately, and he extends his arm in the air, opens the door when it squeals to a stop in front of him.
"For you," he announces, turning to Kate, who's just smirking, amusement written all over her face.
She shakes her head but approaches the cab anyway, curls her fingers over the top of the door.
His breath catches in his throat when her fingers brush against his, and he glances down at their hands before lifting his gaze to her face. Her bottom lip is between her teeth, something he's often noticed, and it drives him crazy. He wants to say something - ask her to stay, to come home with him - but the words die in his throat when her lips touch the corner of his mouth.
"Good night, Rick," she husks. Her hand slides from his, and within moments, she's gone.
He thinks about her kiss all night, about her hand on his, her soft lips, whatever she uses that smells faintly like cherries. He definitely has a physical desire for her. But he's fairly certain that his feelings are evolving past that.
He enjoys spending time with her, so much so that when she texts him the next day stating she has to go out of town for a week, heavy disappointment settles in his chest.
Everything okay?
Not really, comes her quick response. Tell Alexis she can take it easy this week. I'll be in touch.
He doesn't realize how miserable he is until his phone pings with a message upon Kate's return, and his heart sings with joy. It's a simple message, just notifying him that she's back in town, but when she agrees to come to his place to discuss Alexis's training going forward, the grin stays on his face for the rest of the day.
"It's a little weird that you have a crush on my coach, Dad," Alexis points out when she gets home from school and finds him already working on dinner.
Rick shoots her a glare. "I don't have a crush," he lies. "I just want to make sure she feels welcome."
Alexis rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Just don't be gross in front of me."
By the time Kate arrives shortly after five, he's a ball of nervous energy, waiting by the door to throw it open as soon as he hears her knock.
"Sorry," he says when he notices the startled look on her face, stepping aside to let her in. "I just happened to be right here."
Kate toes her shoes off and puts her purse next to them. "It's fine. Thanks for having me over."
"Of course. Can I get you something to drink? I have a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape just waiting to be appreciated," he offers. He pours her a generous glass when she agrees, and motions towards the living room. "I'll get Alexis, so we can chat before dinner. We have about twenty minutes. I hope chicken is okay," he adds.
"Sounds good. Um," she continues, putting her hand on his arm before he can step away. "Hey, before you get Alexis…"
Rick's fingers tighten around the stem of his glass when her fingers grip his sleeve. He wants to reach for her, to pull into her arms, but he just turns to face her and pauses to give her time.
He almost drops his wine when her lips touch his.
It's barely a brush of their mouths, but when she pulls away her gaze flicks to his mouth, then back up to his eyes. Her teeth trap her bottom lip, her nerves written all over her face, and her hand drops from his arm before she steps back.
"I'm sorry," Kate whispers, "I shouldn't have-"
He shakes his head. "No, don't apologize. I, uh…" He clears his throat and feels his cheeks flush. "Honestly, I've been wanting to do that myself, but I didn't want to seem too forward."
Kate's cheeks turn pink and she looks down at the floor. "Not forward at all," she admits in a quiet voice, almost timid.
The sound of a familiar throat clearing has her jumping away from him, and Rick turns to see Alexis standing at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips. She glances between the two of them, then shakes her head and shrugs.
Alexis retreats back upstairs shortly after dinner, and Rick motions for Kate to join him in the living room. He's surprised when she sits right next to him on the couch, her leg pressed against his, and takes a long drink of her wine. It seems to relax her, and she twists her body towards him, props her head on her hand, her elbow on the back of the couch.
"Sorry about last week," she says with a long sigh. "I hated having to leave right after that talk with the Olympics rep."
"Don't worry about it. Is everything okay?" When she hesitates, he barrels on, worried that he'd overstepped. "Sorry, it's none of my business-"
"It's fine," Kate interrupts, shaking her head. "I didn't know much at first, just that my aunt was in an accident and I needed to get to her. Upstate," she adds. "My cousin was in Europe, so I was the closest family member."
"Jeez," Rick breathes. "Is she-"
Kate shakes her head. "She didn't make it. She hung on long enough for Sofia to say goodbye, but she passed."
"I'm so sorry, Kate."
"Thanks. Anyway, I realized just how fast life can change, you know? Obviously, I'd experienced that with my parents, but this time, it felt different." She lifts her gaze to his. "Losing Aunt Theresa so quickly made me realize that I shouldn't drag my feet anymore. And that I really, really wanted to kiss you."
Rick offers her an encouraging smile. "I'm glad you did." He sets his wine on the coffee table and mirrors her pose, allows his hand to brush along her jaw. "Can I be honest about something?"
Her eyes flutter shut at his touch, and she nods.
He cups her jaw and caresses her cheek with his thumb, revels in her soft skin, the even softer smile on her face. "I want to kiss you again," he says in a low voice, his eyes roaming over her face, cataloging every eyelash, every subtle twitch of her mouth.
She opens her eyes, covers his hand with hers, and drops her gaze to his mouth. "I'd like that," she breathes.
The moment their lips touch something inside him snaps, and he tangles his fingers in her hair, pulls her as close as their awkward positions allow. His tongue swipes along her bottom lip and she sighs, meets his tongue with hers, loops her arm around the back of his neck to hold him to her.
As their tongues tangle she shifts and slides her leg over his, and he drops his hand to her thigh, tugs her onto his lap. Her hips roll and he pulls away with a gasp, his own lifting into hers.
She cups his face in her hands and her eyes roam over his features, obviously searching for something. She runs her fingers along his stubble, and he closes his eyes and loses himself in her touch. After a few moments her mouth touches his again, soft and chaste, and she pushes herself off his lap.
"I should go," she murmurs, trailing her fingers through his hair once more before disappearing into the night.
A/N: This was borne from watching the Summer Olympics back in 2021, and I finally revisited the idea enough that I managed to get a whole fic out of it. A couple additional notes: any factual inaccuracies about fencing or tournaments or how it all works are creative liberties taken by me. It isn't long enough to be a Ficathon contribution, but there are seven chapters.