Joined by sorrow, Olympic figure skating hopeful Devon Hayes met champion Lance Dawes at a time when both their worlds were falling apart. Devon lost his mother to cancer and Lance's family rejected him for being gay. When Devon leaves for college, a door seems to close on any hopes for something more than friendship...until Fate provides a second chance. Devon returns home to train with Lance. As the Olympic trials draw closer and their love grows stronger, the tug-of-war between desire and ambition threatens to ruin everything. If they can't discover what matters most, they might end up with nothing.

Publisher's note: Skating For Gold was originally published in the Friends to Lovers anthology.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Lance Dawes watched Devon glide gracefully along the pond's frozen surface. In all of the years he'd coached Devon, he'd never met a man more focused or driven. Devon's concentration on the quadruple jump, the one move he'd failed to master, was laser sharp. Digging the pick of his skate into the ice, Devon pumped his powerful quads, generating speed. His body lifted, sailing through the air. Lance counted each spin. One, two, three, four. C'mon. Now the landing. Lance held his breath. Devon's arms hugged his torso, his body blurring from the speed of his rotations as he drew closer to the ground until his skate touched the ice. A triumphant thrill shot through Lance, but the victory was short-lived. Devon's ankle wobbled and he toppled over, landing heavily on the ice. Fuck! He's gonna be pissed.

Lance skated over to Devon, extending his hand. Without accepting the help, Devon pushed himself into an upright position. Despite the sour expression on Devon's face, heat radiated through Lance. Just three years earlier, the man sitting on the ice had been a boy of seventeen. A lost, scared kid who needed training, friendship and encouragement. Back then, their five-year age difference had placed them in two different worlds. Lance thought of Devon with affection, like a kid brother, but certainly not romantically.

But Devon wasn't a kid anymore. At twenty, even hunched over and angry, he radiated masculine perfection. Each muscle ran smoothly into the next. Bulges and ripples gleamed off the sheen of his sweat-covered skin. The way his broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist drew Lance's eyes like a magnet. He had to forcibly break his gaze when it scanned over that rounded ass only to rest on a generous swell pressing at the front of Devon's skating pants. His legs, tree-trunks of muscle, were proportionate to the rest of his body. He has a perfect skater's body.

"Damnit. Why the fuck can't I land the jump?" Seemingly oblivious to Lance's attention, Devon placed his hands on the ground and pushed himself to his feet. "I thought I had it." He skated until only a few feet separated them, and took the towel Lance held for him.

Lance draped a woolen jacket over Devon's shoulders, his hands brushing across the tense muscles. Even accidental touches sent currents of pleasure straight to his groin. "No one's getting the quadruple jump consistently yet." Although true, his words wouldn't matter to Devon. Aside from Devon's physical flawlessness, he also held himself to the highest of standards. It was just another item on the lengthy list of things Lance found irresistible about the man.

"I don't give a fuck about other skaters. I generated enough speed, got great height, and even completed all four rotations with enough time to prepare for my landing." With a final dab at his forehead, Devon tossed the towel back to Lance. "So what's wrong?"

"It's your landing. You aren't coming...