About Perfect Ten
by Sean Michael
159 pages
/ 53000 words
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, paperback
Despite a life-threatening injury, gymnast Chris is determined to get back to his top form and compete again. Brian is a coach in need of someone to believe in, and he takes Chris on, admiring the spirit and determination that drives Chris to succeed.
They start training, and admiration leads to something much hotter during the following months. Secrets, hidden dangers, and family troubles plague them, though, and they have to face the fact that Chris might never compete again. Can they score a Perfect Ten?
Review
Mychael Black, author of Going Home, writes:
Chris Allen is a gymnast struggling to come back to the circuit after a near-paralytic vaulting accident. The doctors told him another accident could put him in a wheelchair…or worse. But gymnastics and competing are in his blood; he’s determined to prove everyone wrong.
Brian Rainings is a girls’ gymnastics coach looking to make his mark in men’s gymnastics. His goal? To convince Chris Allen to give him that chance.
Together, Brian and Chris set up a vigorous routine--coaching, working, and loving. Everything seems perfect, even to the point of Chris gaining a new sponsor. All that changes with an accident, however.
Can they pick up the pieces when Chris’ injuries--past and present--are so daunting?
Yet another winner from Sean Michael! Perfect Ten is just that: a perfect ten! The chemistry between Brian and Chris is amazing--in bed and out of it. And that first kiss? Damn! Talk about scorching!
I was always waiting for some horrible gymnastics accident to cause a problem, but when an accident came, it shocked me to the core. I was constantly biting my nails, praying that everything would work out. You can’t help but fall in love with these men: Brian’s care and love, both as a coach and as Chris’ partner; and Chris’ determination is something to aspire to.
If you enjoy Sean Michael’s stories, you’ll love this one!
Sample
Brian stopped in front of the diner and just looked at the door for a moment.
It was one of those silver bullet, old-style diners, the chrome dull with age, the windows shining clean and bright. It was a strange place for a job interview, but that's essentially what this was.
He'd heard through the grapevine that Christopher Allen was trying to make a comeback after his vault accident, despite the fact that his coach and corporate sponsorship had bailed on him. He'd also heard it was a long shot, that the guy was lucky he wasn't in a wheelchair, let alone even thinking about competing again. Scuttlebutt said Christopher was too old to start over, too injured, too past it.
And too stubborn to admit it.
Brian liked that in an athlete.
So he'd called and asked for a meeting. He hadn’t told Christopher he’d have to fly in just for this meeting. He’d kept it casual -- let's have lunch at that little place on the corner of Smith and Fifth.
This could change his whole life. Not that he didn't like coaching the girls at the private school where he was working, but he missed men's gymnastics, missed being involved, the feeling of the powder on his hands, the shaking in his muscles as he pushed himself past the point of his endurance...
His own glory days, such as they were, were over, but he had a chance to coach someone else into that sweet place where hard work and achievement met.
He just had to convince Christopher Allen that he was the man for the job.
He took a breath and went in, the sounds of the street replaced by the sound of people talking, china and silverware clinking, the smell of grease filling his noise.
He scanned the booths, looking for Christopher.
It took him a second to find the guy, the signature blond hair dull and overgrown where it was bent over a menu, the square jaw hidden by a scrappy beard. The man had lost some weight, some form. Brian could see the musculature still evident through the tight T-shirt.
He made his way over slowly, that feeling coming over him, the one that said this was a moment he wanted to remember, one he wanted to be sure to live in.
He stopped at Christopher's booth and cleared his throat. "Christopher Allen? Hi, I'm Brian Rainings."
"Hey there. Call me Chris." Chris stood, unfolding himself from the booth, the motion a little awkward, a little stiff. "Nice to meet you. How's it going?"
"Good, thanks. What about you? How're you doing?"
"Doing good. Doing real good." One square hand was offered over. "Have a seat, man."
He shook Chris' hand. The man had a good grip, warm and firm, not overbearing. "Thanks. And thanks for agreeing to see me."
Chris might have been on the injured list and abandoned by his people, but the buzz around him had been incredible before the accident, and Brian figured he couldn’t be the only one who wanted this job.
"Sure. You and I competed together once, a long time ago. Back when I was a junior and you were on top."
"Yeah, I do remember. The buzz in the locker room was all about this blond kid who was going to just smoke everyone in a few years." The vinyl seats were surprisingly soft, like they'd been well taken care of.
"Yeah. Talk's probably still the same, just for another kid." It was a little unnerving, looking at Chris. One eye was a bright blue, the other a deep, dark green.
"It always is. Everyone wants to discover the next big thing. Of course, I might just be sitting right in front of him." Brian grinned, knowing he was laying it on thick.
Chris chuckled, eyes dancing. "You do know I had back surgery, yeah?"
"Oh, you're that Christopher Allen." He winked and nodded. "Yeah, I know. I also know you're looking to come back."
"Looking to, yeah. I've been working on the trampoline, stretches, getting up to speed. I want to be ready."
"Sounds good. You tried any of the equipment yet? The vault?"
"The rings. The bar. No landings yet."
"How's it feel?" He still worked out using some old routines himself -- it was a hard thing to give up, pushing your body to its limits and beyond like that, feeling high and free.
"Stiff. I'm loving the tramp work. I can't do much else -- nowhere wants a guy without a coaching staff doing much training."
He nodded. "Yeah, they don't want the responsibility. So you still need a coach, then?"
"Yeah, Harry and Jeff moved on. They got Les Martin and both Evvie and Jean Parsons. Three for the price of one, you know?"
"Sounds like a good deal. For them. Kind of left you in the lurch though, yeah?"
Man, that was a practiced shrug. "It's a business. I'm not a sure thing."
"Neither are they. What if there's another accident? Harry and Geoff going to move on again?" He held up his hands. "Sorry, loyalty's just a dying art, you know?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I know. You want a burger? Chili dog?"
"Chili dog. With fries. And I hope they're greasy." And a milkshake. He loved diner food. "What about you? Burger? Chili dog? Coach Rainings?"
Those eyes just caught his, curious, questioning. "You haven't even seen what I can do yet."