Page 15

KATERINA

The drive to my qualifier is three hours long. Three long, excruciating hours in a car with Aiden, Roman, and Alina—while my mother? She’s getting a ride with my father. That was a plot twist I wasn’t prepared for. I ask my mom, horrified, as she casually puts her suitcase in the trunk of my father’s car.

“You two are riding together?”

I ask my mom, horrified, as she casually puts her suitcase in the trunk of my father’s car.

“Yes, Katerina,”

she says, amused by my panic. “He offered. It’s been years—we can be civil.”

Civil? My parents? In a confined space for three hours? This had disaster written all over it. But before I could argue, Aiden yanks open the passenger door of our car and turns to me.

“You’re sitting in the back,”

Aiden says casually, and I scowl.

“Says who?”

I can’t sit in the back. I’m a passenger princess—always have been—and that will not change today.

“Says the driver.”

I cross my arms over my chest in denial. “I should drive.”

Aiden lets out a dry laugh. “You? Drive my car?”

Roman whistles under his breath.

“Don’t even dream about it, Kat. Aiden doesn’t let anyone touch his car.”

I smirked at the piece of information I had just been given, plotting my next move. Alina, already buckled in the backseat, grins like this is the best entertainment she’s ever witnessed.

“Kat, just get in. We don’t have all day.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh before dramatically throwing myself into the backseat. Aiden smirks like he won, which only fuels my irritation. The second he turns on the engine, I reach for the aux cord. Aiden snatches it first. My eyes narrow.

“Give it.”

Aidens grin widenes. “Not a chance.”

I lunge for it, but he dodges me effortlessly, plugging his phone in before I can react. The second the first heavy rock riff fills the car, I gasp in outrage.

“Absolutely not,”

I say, immediately reaching to unplug it. Aiden grabs my wrist mid-air, his grip firm but warm. His stupid smirk deepens.

“You got a problem with real music, Angel Face?”

I yank my hand free and glare at him. “This isn’t music. This is just noise.”

Roman snorts. “She’s got a point.”

Aiden shoots him a glare, not believing Roman just agreed with me over him. “You’re dead to me, Rome.”

I lean forward, dramatically resting my chin on Aiden’s shoulder to annoy him. “If I must be stuck in this car with you, we are listening to Taylor Swift.”

Aiden visibly tenses at my proximity before tilting his head slightly, eyes meeting mine briefly in the mirror.

“You’re actually serious,”

he says, like he can’t believe it, I’m being serious. “Dead serious.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he focuses back on the road. “Not happening.”

I pout. “I thought you were all about protecting my fragile figure-skating soul?” His lips twitch up in amusement. “Not when it comes to my speakers.” Alina grins, enjoying every second of our banter.

“I don’t know, Aiden. ‘The Archer’ would really fit the mood right now.”

Roman nods at Ali’s words. “She has a point. That song goes hard.”

Aiden groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “I hate all of you,”

“You’ll survive.”

I snap back. But then he does something unexpected. Instead of fighting back, he scrolls through his phone, clicks on a song, and lets it play.

The second I hear the first note of ‘Cruel Summer,’ I gasp dramatically.

“You did not just put on Taylor Swift.”

Aiden shrugs, completely indifferent.

“Figured I’d give you your moment.”

I stared at him, suspicious. “You’re trying to get on my good side, aren’t you?”

He grins, eyes flicking to me in the mirror. “Maybe.”

Something about the way he says it sends a shiver up my spine.

I should have let it go, ignore the way my stomach twists stupidly. But because I never know when to back down, I tease. “So you do like Taylor Swift,”

Aiden scoffs. “Let’s not get carried away, Angel Face.”

Roman grins.

“It’s too late. You let her win.”

Aiden shakes his head, but I don’t miss the way his fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel to the beat. Alina elbows me.

“I think we just converted him.”

I lean back against my seat, satisfied. “This is officially the best road trip ever.”

Aiden rolls his eyes, but there was something softer in his expression. Something that makes my heart beat a little too fast.

Damn him.

The ice is my sanctuary. No matter how loud the arena gets or how the energy buzzes in the air like static, the moment my skates touch the ice, everything else fades. The world beyond this rink doesn’t exist. It’s just me, Alexei, and the routine we’ve practiced a thousand times. I breathe in and out to centre myself. We’ve trained for this. There is no room for hesitation. Alexei meets my gaze, squeezing my hand before the music starts.

“Showtime, Malyshka.”

The music swells, and we move in perfect sync. Every jump, every lift, every step sequence flows seamlessly. Months of skating together have made us a single entity on the ice, a machine built for precision. A triple twist—flawless. A side-by-side triple axel—perfectly timed. As we hit our final lift, I soar above Alexei, suspended in the air for a breathless moment before he lowers me effortlessly. The final note of our program echoes through the rink as we glide into our finishing pose, my chest heaving as the roar of the crowd explodes around us.

We did it. Alexei’s arms wrap around me as we spin in place, his laugh ringing through the arena. “That was perfection, Katerina!”

My heart pounds against my ribs, adrenaline coursing through my veins. As we skate off, the cameras flash, and I glance up at the scoreboard. The numbers appear in rapid succession—

First place. Gold.

The emotions hit all at once—relief, pride, and something deeper, something that made my throat tighten. I made it back—after everything that was stolen from me. Alina is waiting for us, still breathless from her performance.

“You did it!”

she beams, tackling me into a hug.

“We both did it,”

I yell in excitement, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. Her scores were posted minutes ago—she secured gold in women’s singles, her jumps impeccable, her artistry untouchable. We’re going to the next round of qualifiers together.

A slow, mocking clap echoes through the air, slicing through my moment of triumph like a knife.

I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Maxim Serkov. The name alone makes my stomach churn. After everything he did to me. After the news broke out, I have no idea how he was able to compete today. Daddy must’ve paid big money to make it happen.

“You looked stiff out there, Katerina,”

Max muses, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But then again, you always did choke under pressure.”

The rage that coils in my chest is instant, but Alexei’s grip on my wrist steadies me.

“Leave, Serkov,”

Alexei says coldly, stepping slightly in front of me.

Max’s new partner lingers awkwardly behind him, clearly uncomfortable. She has the same haunted look I used to have, the same stiffness in her shoulders. Our old coach probably trains her, too. Max scoffs, his gaze flicking back to me. “You think you deserved this win? After what happened last time?”

His lips curl in disgust. “After you humiliated yourself?”

The air in my lungs turns to ice. I know exactly what he’s referencing. The fall. The injury. The nightmares. The night he tried to take more than just my career.

Max leans in slightly, his voice just low enough that only I hear. “I bet you still think about it.”

A fresh wave of nausea grips me. My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into my palms. I won’t break. I won’t let him see me break. But before I can say anything, a blur of motion flashes past me; a sickening crack echoes through the air. Max stumbles back, blood trickling from his lip, eyes wide in shock. Aiden stands in front of me, fist still clenched, breathing hard. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes burn with a fury that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Say one more word to her,”

Aiden growls, his voice dangerously low. “I dare you.”

The entire rink falls into stunned silence. People are staring, whispers spreading like wildfire. Max wipes the blood from his lip, glaring at Aiden.

“You just made a mistake.”

“I’ll live.”

Aiden chimes in, grinning at Max like a maniac. Security is already moving toward us, and coaches are yelling, but Aiden doesn’t move. He just stands there before me, daring Max to try something else. Max sneers at both of us. “She doesn’t need you to protect her.”

Aiden doesn’t flinch. “She doesn’t need me to, but I’m going to anyway.”

My breath catches in my throat as Max scoffs before security steps between them, ushering him away.

The moment he’s gone, Aiden turns to me, eyes scanning my face. His jaw is tight, his hands flexing at his sides as if fighting the urge to hit something again. “You okay?”

he asks quietly. I should be angry. I should scold him for causing a scene. For making this about him. But all I can do is stare at him, my heart racing, my body still on high alert. Because for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. All because of Aiden, and I don’t know what to do with that. Instead of answering, I exhale slowly, nodding once.

Aiden studies me for a beat longer before nodding, too. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press, just stands beside me. The moment we leave the rink, the air outside is sharp and cold, but it does nothing to cool the adrenaline still thrumming through my veins. The chaos from inside the arena still lingers—whispers, shocked faces, coaches scrambling to do damage control. But all I can focus on is the six four pure muscle, grumpy hockey player. How did he go from tormenting me to protecting me? He’s walking ahead of me, hands in his pockets, jaw tight. His knuckles are still red from the punch he landed on Max, and I should be lecturing him for it. I should be angry that he just got himself into unnecessary trouble.

But I’m not. Because when Max leaned in and whispered those words, when he tried to drag me back into the past I’ve been fighting to escape, Aiden was there. No hesitation. No questions. Just action. And I don’t know what to do with that.

“You didn’t have to do that,”

I say finally, my voice breaking the tense silence between us.

Aiden stops walking but doesn’t turn around. “Yeah, I did.”

I exhale, stepping up beside him. “Now you’re going to have to deal with whatever fallout comes from punching him in the face.”

“Worth it,”

Aiden adds, slowly turning around to look at me. I shake my head, crossing my arms.

“You can’t just go around throwing punches every time someone says something you don’t like.”

He finally looks at me, dark eyes unreadable. “You really think that was about me?”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to. Because deep down, I knew it wasn’t about him. It was about me. About what Max did— about what he almost did. Aiden saw it in my face. He knew. And that’s what terrifies me most of all. He takes a slow breath, his hands flexing at his sides like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.

Instead, he just mutters, “Let’s get out of here,”

and starts walking again. I follow, my emotions tangled into a knot so tight I don’t know how to unravel them.

Back at the hotel, the celebration is in full swing. Alexei is basking in the win, holding court in the centre of the room, while Alina is practically glowing, still riding the high of her gold medal. Drinks are flowing, music is blasting, and the weight of competition isn’t pressing down on us for once. But I can’t relax. Not completely. I keep glancing at Aiden, who’s sitting in the corner, beer in hand, talking to Will and Roman like nothing happened earlier. As if he didn’t just throw a punch that has probably already made the rounds on social media. Alina plops down beside me, nudging my arm.

“You okay?”

I force a smile.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

She hums knowingly, her gaze flicking toward Aiden before returning to me. “So, when will you admit that you’re into him?”

I nearly choke on my drink.

“Excuse me?”

Alina grins, completely unbothered. “Oh, come on, Kat. It’s painfully obvious. The way you two bicker, the way he watches you like he’s waiting for you to throw the first punch—” I groan.

“That’s just Aiden. He’s annoying. He gets on my nerves on purpose.”

“Mmm,”

Alina muses. “And yet, you haven’t stopped staring at him all night.”

I open my mouth to argue, but—damn it—she’s right. Before she can say anything else, Aiden makes his way towards us,

“Are you okay?”

Aiden asks, his voice gentle. Alina leaves, making her way towards Roman, sending an I told you, so look behind her shoulders.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence stretches between us before he mutters, “If he tries anything again, I will hit him harder.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Violence isn’t always the answer, you know.”

Aiden smirks.

“Worked pretty well today.”

The buzz from our victory still lingers, but the weight of everything else threatens to crush it. Even as the celebration rages on around me, laughter and music filling the air, I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at me, the smugness in his voice, the reminder of everything I’ve worked so damn hard to bury. And then there’s Aiden. He’s been watching me all night. Not obviously, not in a way that screams concern, but in that way, he does when he thinks I won’t notice. Like he’s waiting for me to crack, I won’t. I refuse. But as the night drags on, I feel my grip slipping.

“You need to breathe,”

Alexei murmurs beside me, his voice low enough that only I can hear. I force a small smile. “I am breathing.”

He raises his left eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’re also gripping your drink like you’re about to throw it at someone.”

I glance down at my hand. He’s right. My knuckles are white against the plastic cup; my fingers curled so tightly around it that it might shatter if I squeeze harder. I exhale sharply and loosen my grip. Alexei studies me for a moment before tilting his head toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

I blink at him.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Let’s go get some fresh air. You need it.”

I hesitate, glancing around the room. Alina is caught up in a conversation with Roman, and Will is in mid-argument with Grayson about some play from the last hockey game. Aiden…Aiden is still watching me. I need space.

“Fine,”

I mutter, letting Alexei guide me toward the exit. The night air is sharp against my skin, a welcome contrast to the heat of the party. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with crisp, cool air, trying to ground myself. We walk silently for a few minutes, the crunch of gravel beneath our feet the only sound. It’s peaceful. Calming. And then Alexei sighs.

“You’re thinking about him.”

I stiffen because he is right. Max has total control of my mind right now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gives me a look that says, ‘I know you’re bullshitting me.’

“You do.”

I swallow hard, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Kat. He’s still getting in your head.”

I shake my head, jaw tightening. “No, he’s not.”

Alexei stops walking, turning to face me fully.

“Then why are we out here instead of celebrating?”

I don’t have an answer to that. Because the truth is, Max is in my head. Not just because of the past but because he’s here. No matter how many gold medals I win or how many times I prove that I don’t need him, he still has the power to unnerve me. And I hate it.

I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing a tight smile. “I’m fine, Lex.”

His gaze lingers on me, searching for something, but eventually, he sighs. “If you say so.”

We walk a little longer before heading back inside. The party is still going strong, but my mood hasn’t shifted. If anything, I feel heavier.

And then I see Aiden. Why is he everywhere I am?

He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, brows drawn together as he watches me. I don’t know what expression I have on my face, but whatever it is, it makes him push off the wall and start walking toward me. Alexei pats my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Lex—”

But he’s already gone. Traitor.

Aiden stops before me, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us is thick, the noise from the party fading into the background.

“You good?”

he asks finally. I huff out a mocking laugh. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

He shrugs. “Maybe because you look about two seconds away from snapping.”

I cross my arms. “And if I was?” Aiden tilts his head.

“Then I’d be here to ensure you don’t do something stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like convincing yourself that that guy still has any power over you.”

I inhale sharply, my nails digging into my palms.

“I don’t—”

Aiden steps closer, close enough that I have to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “Yes, you do. And I get it. But you don’t have to.”

My throat tightens. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Aiden.”

“I know,”

Aiden answers, his voice steady. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

I hate that my heart stumbles at his words.

“Why? You hate me,”

I say, scratching the tip of my nose unconsciously. I stop, staring at my hand. I’m nervous. I only do that when I’m nervous. Around Aiden? Oh my god! Alina was right. When Aiden doesn’t answer, I look away, swallowing hard.

“I just want to move on.”

He nods and exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Then let me help.”

I glance back up at him, searching his face. “Why?”

I ask again, needing an answer. An explanation as to why he cares. His jaw flexes like he’s debating how much to say or not to say.

“Because I don’t hate you, Angel face, and I don’t like seeing you like this.”

My breath catches.

Because that’s not teasing, that’s not banter. That’s real.