Carvings in the Ice

Friday night was a night for celebration. Evan had won gold; Annabelle had won silver; even Mao and Yu-Na, Johnny and Daisuke Takahashi were there. Evgeny Plushenko was in a corner drinking tequila shots. There was music, alcohol and lights flashing all around. Reporters snaked in and out of the crowd, holding tape recorders and hauling cameramen behind them if they were from a TV show. Anna could barely take it all in.
"Having fun?" one of them asked, sticking a mic in her face. She wanted to flinch, but kept her cool.
"Uh, yeah, it's great."
"Did you think you'd be a part of all of this after your short program?"
"Well, I thought I had a chance... it's the Olympics, after all, you either give it your all or give nothing, and I wasn't about to give up."
"And how about tonight? Any fun planned?"
She paused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, sources say you and a certain Canadian hockey player have been having some fun during your days off. Is that a fact? And if so, who is the lucky guy?"
Fuck, how did they find out. "Um..."
"Hey, Anna," a voice cut in before she could react. It was Evan, suave and spicy-smelling. He had two drinks with him. "Want one? I promise, not too much of a spike." He winked. "Hey, guys," he said to the camera blinking in their faces.
"Evan, you're having an awful good time tonight! How's it feel?"
"Go ahead," he said out of the corner of his mouth to Annabelle, and she suddenly saw what he was trying to do. As he chatted up the pretty young female reporter, she slunk off, sipping her rum and Coke. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked Johnny once she reached him against the wall.
"AM I... I just got a Russian equipment manager's digits, baby." He grinned. "He was six-three and totally toned all over. Mm, he can handle my... wait. What just happened? I thought you were being interviewed."
"Evan got me out of it," she explained. "They asked about Jonathan."
"Oh, can't you be truthful for once? Or at least flip them off? It is none of their business whom you socialize with." He rolled his blue eyes and drained his cup. "Or fuck, for that matter."
"Be a little dirtier, please."
He licked his lips. "Gladly."
"Oh, ew." She nudged him playfully. Then she saw Evan walking toward the long balcony, alone. "Where's he going?"
"Why do you care?" Johnny asked. Then his mouth opened. "OH, NO. NO, YOU DON'T."
"What? I'm only going to talk to him."
"Yeah, and talk your way into his- Anna!"
She stopped halfway there, when his hand refused to let go of her arm. "What?!"
"Okay, just think about this for a moment. Are you doing it because you like him, or because you want to forget?"
"About?"
"Oh, so it's been that long for you already?" He let go. "Fine. Just don't expect me to come wiping up your tears, okay?"
"Of course not, you'll be with your random equipment manager letting him touch YOUR junk," Annabelle retorted over her shoulder. She made it through to the balcony and approached Evan. "Hi."
He looked at her and smiled. "Hey. You look beautiful."
She looked down at herself: simple enough dress, barely any makeup, but she'd take the compliment. "Thanks. Congratulations, I never got a chance to tell you."
"Oh, thanks." He chuckled. "You too. You were incredible in your long program. I've never seen you skate like that."
"Thank you." She could feel herself blushing despite all of the well-wishing she'd heard earlier. "So... I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened. All of it. I didn't mean to hurt you."
He waved a hand. "It's okay. As long as you're happy."
"Happy...?"
"Yeah." He looked at her. "You do know what happy is, right?"
She laughed despite the sudden clenching of her stomach. "Yeah. Thank you... I really appreciate that."
"Of course. You're a friend, right?" He smiled sweetly. They both turned to look out at the city of Vancouver, darkening with the passing of the night. The music throbbed behind them, somehow capturing the sound of all of those hearts in there, beating frantically as one. Surprisingly, this felt comfortable, being with him, drinking with him, feeling the alcohol hum through her body, leaving her warm and fluid. She smiled over at him. He grinned back.
"Are you getting drunk, darling?"
"Nah," she shrugged. "I just feel... really good. You didn't really spike this, did you?"
"Honest to God." He held his hand over his heart, light brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "This is really hilarious to watch, though."
She laughed. "Hush, you."
"What? I'm just saying." He put an arm around her. "God, you're cold. Don't you feel that?"
"Nope. Is that bad?" she wanted to know.
"A bit..." he chuckled. "Wait. Are you even allowed to drink?"
"Why? Are you going to tell on me?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely." They were walking along the balcony now. It wound around the building, fairly hidden from the chaos inside. No one else was out there. It was perfect.
"I won't let you."
"Oh, really? Do you have a choice?"
"Maybe."
"You going to stop me?"
"Yeah, I am," she laughed.
"How are you going to do that half-sloshed, hmm? How-"
And then she kissed him. It was a bit clumsy, but it did the trick; it shut him up, made him spill the rest of his drink onto the floor. She had to tiptoe to reach him; he backed up to the bench, pulling her on top of him. They kissed messily, furiously for a few seconds before slowing down. His hands brushed her back, reached up to stroke her hair. She accepted his tongue into her mouth, moving her own out of the way and sucking gently. He pulled back from her.
"Okay, if we're going to do this, we can't stay here," he whispered. Is Mirai at your room?"
"No, she left early with her parents." It had been a tearful goodbye, with promises to stay in touch and message each other on Facebook. Annabelle had felt like she'd earned a little sister in this whole ordeal. But she wasn't thinking about that now. "I'm closer."
"Perfect. Let's go. Unless... do you..."
But she wasn't going to back down. "Evan, come on."

Back at her room, she let him touch her all over. His hands were warm, big, strong, stroking all the right places. She bit his lip in response, felt the groan somewhere deep in his throat. She pulled off his shirt and felt his lean, strong torso press against hers. "Anna..." he whispered, moving his lips to her neck and starting to pull up her skirt. She buried her face in his shoulder, waiting for him to make a move. "Anna," he said after a moment. "You're... kind of hurting me right now."
That was when she realized she was gripping his arms so tightly he could barely move. She relaxed. "I'm sorry," she said frantically. "I'm really sorry, I didn't realize..."
"It's fine, it's no big deal," he assured her, rubbing his arms. "I thought you'd gone catatonic on me, that's all."
"No, I..."
"You...?" He looked at her in question. "You don't want to do this after all?"
"I... I don't know."
"Usually, hon, that means... no." He looked down. "Damn, should have told me that earlier."
"Oh, jeez, I'm... I'm sorry."
"Quit saying that, sweetie. You don't have anything to feel sorry about."
"No, I do want to do this with you... I just don't think I know how. My body doesn't, anyway. I don't even know what I'm saying right now."
He was quiet for a moment, looking at her in confusion. "Has he messed with you that badly?"
"No, he hasn't." It came out too quickly, and she knew he'd caught the lie. "Okay... yeah. He kind of has. I think... I think I'm in love with him."
His eyes widened. "Uh... wow. So why are we doing this again?"
"I wish I knew..."
He rolled her off of him gently, sitting up in her bed. "I'm not sure how I like being a potential rebound."
"You don't have to..." She put her head in her hands. "I'm a mess, aren't I?"
"Just a bit, sweetie," he answered softly, tucking her hair back from her face. He pressed his lips to her cheek. "Annabelle."
She looked at him. "Evan, don't think you have to be nice to me."
"I'm not. I'm just asking if you want to be on top again."
She stared, then burst into giggles. He laughed with her until she was spent, wiping the tears from her eyes, and then she cried again. He held her, kissed away the tears, then pulled her onto him and let her get rid of them herself.

In the morning, they showered, then dressed. Evan was quiet, but when Annabelle caught his eye he was all smiles. She guessed pleasing a guy really was that simple, yet she wasn't sure what they were now. Before he left, he pulled her close, and she waited for a kiss. But he was looking at her instead, a serious look on his face.
"I don't want this to be it between us."
She nodded, and sighed. "Evan, I don't know... I don't know what there is."
"No, I mean I don't want to be some booty call for you. I know what happened last night. I know you won't love me the way you love... him. But if there is anything I can do, as a friend... I will. You know I will."
"...Why?" The thought came out of her before she could keep it in, and almost instantly she regretted it. But the flicker in his eyes faded.
"Because I care about you, Annabelle. God knows why, but I do. Okay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
He kissed her forehead. Smiled. Then he was gone, just a wisp of his cologne all that remained of him. She was reminded of how different he smelled from Jonathan. Then the reality of what she'd done crashed over her like a rock through a glass ceiling.
All she could do was hope she could forgive herself soon.