Page 32

I tossed and turned all night, running through all the different scenarios of how I could possibly get to the Olympics next year.

Each time I played out a mental montage of pairing up with Richard, it ended in disaster.

There’s no way we could pull this off. We’d end up a laughingstock of the rink. Actually, we’d end up being the butt of the joke for all of US Figure Skating.

Tossing my phone aside, I paced my apartment and stared out at the lit-up skyscrapers with Lake Michigan resting in the back. In the two months I was away from Chicago, something changed in Richard. It was subtle, but it was there. He seemed…calmer, more sure of himself.

And talking with him at night, just the two of us, brought back all the memories that I tried to block out.

We ended in heartbreak, for both of us, I realized.

But he was the same Richard that used to wait for me, quarters in hand, to dance with me after practice.

Was that for him? For me? For the both of us?

I had no clue. But picturing the way his eyes danced with happiness and the way he grinned at me like I was the only person that mattered sent a shiver skating through me.

Shit.

There’s no way we could skate together just for that reason alone. I never thought anything of Patrick touching me, almost kissing me, caressing me. It was all business.

But with Richard?

There was attraction.

There was chemistry.

And there were feelings.

I’m not sure how I’d be able to hide all of that.

Then again, let’s be real, we wouldn’t even get to that point.

He’d most likely try out one practice, realize how hard ice dance actually is, and then leave with a newfound respect for my sport.

Besides, if I canceled, he’d pester me about it until the end of time.

He had to be the one to come to his senses and call it quits.

And he would quit. I was sure of it.

And that is how I found myself sneaking into the empty rink before sunrise—because there’s no way I wanted an audience for this ridiculous proposition.

But as soon as I shoved into the rink, my jaw dropped.

I gaped at Kappy. “I thought you said it was gonna be just the two of us?” My eyes bounced between Kappy, who was wearing slim black joggers and an athletic quarter zip, and Hans, who stood next to him with a proud grin.

“Yeah, the two of us, and Hans.” He jerked his thumb at the old man. “And…” Kappy winced.

“Oh my God!” I covered my eyes. “Who else did you tell?”

“Our coach.” He smiled proudly.

I dropped my skate bag on the lobby floor. “What? What coach? How did you even—”

“Morning, friends!”

I spun around to see Patrick gliding into the rink, his ginger hair neatly gelled back, wearing a Team USA puffer coat, and carrying his skate bag and a clipboard.

Anger coursed through my veins and erupted out of my mouth. “You can’t skate with me, but you’ll coach me?”

“Yes,” Patrick said without missing a beat. “I can’t take the mental toll of competing, but I actually want to coach, Piper, you know this. ”

“I think I can see the steam coming out of her ears,” Kappy murmured to Hans.

I practically growled at him before turning back to my old partner. “Patrick, you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” He gave me a wink. “There’s no way I’ll have a shot at coaching a team to the Olympics for another eight or so years, why not give this a last-ditch effort?”

Speechless. I was speechless.

“Let the man decide for himself, P,” Kappy said.

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed and smiled triumphantly. “I already like this.”

“And I already hate it!” I stomped my foot. “You two are just going to team up on me every chance you get.”

Patrick and Kappy glanced at each other and both grinned.

“No. I’m not doing this.” I turned and stomped back to the entrance of the rink, but I only made it a few steps before a strong arm looped around my waist and lifted me.

“Look! Our first lift,” Kappy proudly announced to the guys. Then he whispered to me, “You promised me a practice.”

“Ugh!” I shoved out of his arms. “Fine. One practice.” I glared at him.

“Okay, let’s go over some ground rules,” Patrick announced. He hiked one foot up on the bench and balanced the clipboard on his thigh.

“This is never going to work,” I muttered.

“First, we need positive attitudes during practice.” Patrick gave me a pointed look, making me roll my eyes.

“Second, I want you two spending as much time together as possible. We need to build chemistry, and fast. That means working together, living together—”

“What?” I snapped.

Patrick’s face creased. “Yeah, you and I lived together that one year in Canton and that’s when we really excelled. We need you two to become a team.”

“We are not living together.” My whole body went into panic mode.

Kappy gave me a mock-sympathetic look. “Sounds like we are. Your place or mine, babygirl?” he said in a sexy voice.

“Patrick!” I whimpered out, my eyes bulging. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Okay, what else?” Kappy asked with a chuckle.

“There’s only one more rule.” Patrick glanced down at his clipboard.

“Okay, what is it?”

This time, Patrick’s pointed gaze narrowed on Kappy. “Keep your pants on. No sleeping together.”

“Why are you only looking at me?” Kappy complained.

I snorted. “That will not be a problem.”

Patrick continued staring at Kappy.

“Okay, fine, jeez.” Kappy lifted both hands.

Patrick blew out a sigh and fixed a smile on his face. “All right, let’s take the ice.”

Kappy took a while to unbox and lace up his brand new figure skates. When he finally stood to walk toward the ice, I had to stifle a laugh. He looked like a dog wearing booties for the first time, picking up his feet awkwardly like he suddenly forgot how to walk.

“They should feel mostly the same on the ice besides the toepick,” I told him.

He frowned. “They’re just stiff. I’m not used to having the tongue of my skate actually tied up like this.” He hissed. “It kinda hurts. Maybe I should loosen them?”

“Nope, that’s a good way to break an ankle,” Patrick interjected, coming up behind us. “You’ll get used to them. You should put some skate guards on and wear them around the house to break them in faster.”

“You mean apartment,” he corrected, then wagged his eyebrows at me. “ Piper’s apartment.”

“Why mine?”

His eyebrows raised. “You wanna come to my place?”

“No.”

“There ya have it.” He grinned before dipping his chin and flinging his hair back, making me grind my teeth.

“We are not living together. This isn’t even going to work, this is just a trial, and you’re gonna call it quits after a half hour. You can’t even—”

“Piper,” Patrick snapped in a sharp tone. “What did I say about having a positive attitude? Now get on the ice and warm up. I’ll be back in a second. I need to have a quick word with Hans. When I come back, I’ll work with Kappy first, then we’ll come together for some partner stroking exercises. ”

My face went slack. Patrick actually reprimanded me. Before I could argue back, he cut me off with a stern nod to the ice.

My brain was so confused that I just listened.

I’m not sure if it was more shocking to hear Patrick take charge or to hear that he had an actual plan for today. He was taking this seriously…

Blowing out a sigh, I skate-ran onto the ice, grateful for an empty rink. I needed to stretch out my limbs and breathe in the cold air to clear my head.

I entered the music box, then watched Kappy.

He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he carefully stepped onto the ice.

After bending into some edges, he shook out both legs, then mumbled some words to himself.

He looked up at me and grinned. “Easy, just like I thought. I got this,” he yelled out, rubbing his hands together.

Clearly feeling more comfortable, he skate-ran into a lap around the rink, acting like there was zero difference between figure skates and hockey skates.

My eyebrows raised in surprise. Wedging myself in the music box entrance, I yelled out, “Just be careful of the—”

He pitched a little too far forward and hit the toepick, making his body hurl straight into the boards with a loud crash.

“Oh shit,” I murmured. Jumping out of the box, I quickly skated over to him.

He groaned and flopped onto his back. “I think I just checked myself,” he said with his eyes still closed.

Seeing that he was okay, a laugh erupted out of me. “That was great, really great work.” I clapped for him. “I need to ask Hans for the security footage.”

His face scrunched in pain as he rubbed his shoulder.

“Miss your hockey pads yet?” I snickered.

“It’s not funny. I could be hurt, Viper,” he pouted.

“Nah, you’re an athlete,” I teased, using the same words he said to me when I fell in his mother’s front yard. I pushed into a little spread eagle around him and motioned to my ear. “Wait, what did you say about this being easy?”

“Piper!” Patrick’s voice boomed, making me jump. “Stop tormenting him and get to work.”

“Yeah, stop tormenting me,” Kappy said with an amused little smirk on his face .

Rolling my eyes, I left Kappy where he was on the ice and pushed into my warm-up exercises.

I tried my best to ignore the two guys at the north end of the ice, but every once in a while, I’d watch their progress, and it gave me deja vu back to our college days.

Unfortunately, as much as Kappy tried to extend his limbs in a graceful manner, he still looked like a hockey player.

After about fifteen minutes of watching them struggle, I came to a stop in front of them and crossed my arms over my chest. “Kappy is not an auditory learner. You need to record him and show him.”

Patrick whipped his neck to mine. “You think?”

Rolling my lips together, I nodded. “You’re used to watching replays for hockey, right?” I asked Kappy.

He nodded.

“This is the same thing. We’ll record Patrick skating, and then we’ll record Kappy. He needs to see what he’s doing wrong to fix it,” I told Patrick. The music box housed a TV screen we used to project video from our phones so we could replay programs.

Patrick hesitated.