I twisted toward him, seatbelt slicing into my collarbone. “OfcourseI want to marry you, Heath. You took me by surprise, that’s all.”
The car slowed, pulling up to the hotel.
“Let’s focus on winning Worlds,” I said. “Then we can figure out the wedding stuff.”
Only, after Worlds we were leaving for the Stars on Ice tour. As soon as that was over, it would be time to get ready for next season. The Olympic season.
“There’s no rush,” Heath said. “We have the rest of our lives.”
Dramatic multicolored lights strobe over a darkened ice arena.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” a voice booms over the PA system, “please welcome to the ice reigning U.S. champions and 2009 world gold medalists, Katarina Shaw and Heath Rocha!”
Katarina and Heath skate out, illuminated by a follow spot. Cheers echo from the packed stands.
Kirk Lockwood:It’s an honor to be invited to perform in a major exhibition tour. Sheila and I were headliners several times back in the day; those spots are usually reserved for Olympic gold medalists. Shaw and Rocha were so popular, though, the producers made an exception.
Ellis Dean:It’s not like they needed more money or fame. But if they wanted to go into the Olympic season as the undisputed fan favorites? Headlining Stars on Ice was a good start.
Katarina and Heath’s program music begins: a cover of the Chris Isaak ballad “Wicked Game” by a breathy female vocalist. Their choreography is sensual and intimate, and their skimpy costumes leave little to the imagination.
Jane Currer:That program wasentirelyinappropriate. Stars on Ice is a family show.
Katarina unbuttons Heath’s shirt in time with the song’s slinky bass line. He leans her back, his lips brushing the bare skin between her satin shorts and rhinestone-covered crop top.
Jane Currer:The tour producers should have told them to tone it down, atleast.
Ellis Dean:With every tour stop, their infamy grew—and so did the box office returns. People bought tickets to Stars on Ice, but they were there to see the Shaw and Rocha Show.
Security camera footage from the Allstate Arena in Rosemont, Illinois, shows Lee Shaw standing outside the stage door, holding a bouquet of wilted grocery store roses. There’s no sound, but he seems to be trying to reason with the burly security guard.
Eventually, the guard takes the roses, motioning for Lee to move away from the door. As soon as Lee’s back is turned, the guard tosses the bouquet in a nearby dumpster.
Kirk Lockwood:Those tours can definitely bring out some crazies.
Katarina and Heath end their program with a dance spin. They come to a stop, mouths a breath away from meeting. For a lingering moment, they pant in unison, staring into each other’s eyes.
Then, finally, they kiss. The crowd goes wild.
Kirk Lockwood:Say what you will about Kat and Heath. You can’t deny they were stars.
Chapter 52
The kiss had been spontaneous at first.
Heath and I choreographed the whole “Wicked Game” program ourselves especially for Stars on Ice, working on it whenever we had extra ice time or a spare moment in a hotel suite. Sometimes we’d get so caught up in the slow, sensual movement, we couldn’t help it: more than one behind-closed-doors practice session had ended with us in bed, the song looping in the background until we were finished with each other.
On the first leg of the tour, we didn’t include the kiss at every show. When we did, it was always different—sometimes a barely there brush of the lips, sometimes a hungry openmouthed clinch. After a particularly exceptional performance in San Jose, I was so charged up, it was all I could do not to drag Heath back to the dressing room and have my way with him.
As the tour wore on, though, audiences started to expect the kiss. If we ended our skate without a lip-lock, there would be cries, chants, even boos. So once again, we gave the people what they wanted.
By our final matinee in Portland, Maine, the kiss had become pure choreography. I counted the seconds until it was over, the same way I’d count steps or spin rotations.
The audience couldn’t tell the difference. They cheered as loudly as they had in Tulsa and Tampa and all the other interchangeable arenas we’d performed in. They had no idea that, during the grueling months of the tour, our once scorching sex life had turned just as mechanical.
Heath took my hand. We took our bows. Beyond the spotlight, the arena was dark as the night sky, camera flashes and cellphone screens forming constellations in the stands.
Thank God we never have to do that again,I thought.
