Page 7

SEVEN

leo

I will not let that woman get under my skin.

When I look up, Victoria is laughing at something Sloan says, and I wonder if they’re talking about me. Not that I care .

Victoria waves to her new friends, then comes over and joins me on the team bench, wearing a smug little smile.

“What’s got you so happy?” I ask, crossing my arms.

She shrugs innocently, blinking. “Can’t a girl just be happy for no reason?”

“Yeah, right.” I narrow my eyes, trying not to get sucked into those grey pools of hers.

“Was it something those girls said?” I nod toward Jaz and Sloan, who are watching us like we’re on a reality dating show. The only difference is this one feels more like a game of Survivor .

“They invited me to girls’ night,” she says, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

“You mean a glorified gossip session with bottomless guacamole?”

“Pretty much,” she says, not even hiding her glee. “Don’t worry, I won’t spread any rumors about you.” She stands to stretch her legs in the open space near the bench.

“Who said I care?” I shrug. “I’ll be at Boots and Buckles with the guys.”

“Is that a restaurant?” she asks.

“Somebody doesn’t get out much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Between skating practice and my other job, I don’t have time to waste.”

“It’s hardly a waste. Boots and Buckles happens to be the best country bar around, complete with line dancing and karaoke. I’m not much for the entertainment, but their wings are so good you forget how bad the singing is.”

She smirks as she shifts her position to stretch her hamstrings.

“Where do you live now?” I ask, taking her cue and bending over into a toe-touch stretch, which is harder than I want to admit. “A nice penthouse your dad pulled some strings to get you?”

Everyone knows the housing market around here is impossibly tight. That’s part of the reason I rent a room at Sloan and Jaz’s. Her dad probably found her a place in some elaborate high-rise near Charleston.

She mirrors my position, easily reaching for her toes, showing off her impressive flexibility. “I wouldn’t let my parents help me. And Bellgate was my only option.”

I blink as I straighten my body. “Bellgate? The place that looks like it’s held together by duct tape?”

She shakes her head. “Bellgate gets a bad rap, but it’s perfectly fine. My next-door neighbor, Delilah, bakes me brownies, and I feed her bird when she goes to see her sister in Nebraska. Though, honestly, the bird’s manners leave a lot to be desired.”

I frown. “You expect a bird to have good manners?”

“Well, he’s got a foul mouth, thanks to his previous owner. So I never know if I’m going to get a cheerful ‘hello’ or if he’ll swear like a sailor.”

She’s got to be kidding. “You’re telling me you live in a building where a bird cusses at you and half the people are probably on America’s most wanted list?”

She laughs, then tugs her elbow behind her head. “It’s temporary. Just need to find a new sponsor or win a championship. Until then, I’m coaching children at the university skating rink on Saturdays.”

I raise an eyebrow. Sounds like she’s desperate for money, which her parents could easily solve. “No plans to find a fellow skater to sweep you off your feet, then?”

She shakes her head as she switches arms. “Hardly. I have a rule: I don’t date people in the industry. Even though some have been... persistent .”

I try not to think of these privileged jerks hitting on her. I grab my ankle and stretch my legs. Since college, I’ve only dated a few women—and only casually. I like to think of myself as incredibly selective, but the truth is more complicated. I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be let down, to have someone you trust make choices that leave scars. Tina’s decision left me with more than just a bad memory—it gave me the kind of baggage that makes me hesitant to take a risk on people. So now, I keep things light. If you don’t let someone in, they can’t leave, right?

Victoria links her hands behind her back and stretches out her arms. “Who says I even want to date anyone? I’m perfectly happy on my own.” She tips her chin and looks away, telltale signs she’s bluffing. “I could use more fun in my life, and Jaz and Sloan are just the people to show me how.”

“Because I’m not capable of fun?” I challenge.

“You?” she asks, stopping mid-stretch to frown at me. “Leo, people who are fun know how to look like they’re actually enjoying life instead of channeling their inner Grumpy the dwarf.”

I shake my head, amused. “Just because I don’t plaster a fake smile on my face doesn’t mean I’m not fun. Maybe you’ve spent too much time around figure skaters. Hockey players don’t do fake—we’re all about the real deal.”

“So, you just go through life scowling at everyone?”

“Exactly,” I say. “Smiling just makes people think you like them.”

She bursts out laughing, and the sound is glorious. I’ve missed her laugh.

“So you’d rather people know you can’t stand them than fake being nice?” she asks.

I nod. “Now you’re catching on. You always know where you stand with me.” Well, almost everyone. Victoria is the exception. She’s the only one who makes me feel like my defenses might not be enough, and it irks me that she’s so aware of my weaknesses.

She tilts her head and studies me as I stretch my shoulders. “That’s what you want people to think.”

“Trust me, what you see is what you get,” I reply, rolling my ankle in a circle.

She frowns. “I think you act this way to drive people off before they get close.”

“Clearly, it’s not driving you off,” I mutter.

Most women who meet me are more interested in the hockey player they see on the ice, not the person under the uniform. They’re not sticking around long-term, so it works out just fine. But Victoria? She’s not intimidated by me, not even a little.

She shrugs. “You might look like a grizzly bear on the outside, but I think you’ve got something else lurking under there.” She pokes my chest, like she’s trying to get a confession out of me.

I stop stretching. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m entirely a grizzly.” I let the corner of my mouth curve slightly. “Can’t let anyone start thinking I’m warm and fuzzy.”

She raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “Hmm, that’s not what Sloan and Jaz told me.”

“Really?” I cross my arms. “Well, they’re wrong.” If there’s one thing I can’t let her do, it’s get close enough to see how I’ve never gotten over her.

“All right, enough talk,” she says, her expression suddenly all business. “Let’s head to the warm-up mats and try a basic lift before we start skating.”

“A lift?” I raise an eyebrow. “You mean where I’m supposed to pick you up and throw you into the air?”

She rolls her eyes. “There will be no throwing, no matter how much you’d like to drop me on my head.” Then she strides toward the off-ice training area, totally oblivious to how I’m dreading this part.

A lift involves touching her, and that means being physically close—without trying to react. I’m going to love and hate this all in the same breath.

Muttering under my breath, I follow Victoria over to the mats.

She turns to look at me, her expression serious. “Okay,” she begins, “we’re going to try a counterbalance lift. Here’s how it works: you’ll start in a basic squat, place your hands on my side, and I’ll kneel on your lap while leaning away from you. The key is leverage—you’ll need to shift your weight behind your heels to counter mine. Coordination and balance are everything here, so don’t mess it up.”

I frown. “You realize this means I actually have to... put my hands on you, right?”

She gives me a pointed look. “Oh, I’m aware. Try not to pass out from the effort.”

I step closer to her and get into position, ignoring the way my heart skips when my palm wraps around her waist. “Just don’t blame me if this doesn’t go well,” I mutter. “I’m more familiar with shoving people into the boards than being gentle with them.”

She smirks. “Gently lifting is the goal, Leo. Now, hold still while I climb onto your legs.” She steadies herself against me while grabbing my hand and placing it on her knee for support. Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of every nerve in my body as she settles her weight onto my legs.

Focus, Leo .

I clear my throat. “This isn’t awkward at all.”

“You’re not the only one feeling that way,” she says, moving her body firmly into place. She wraps her hand around my neck, leaning away while extending her other arm in a graceful arc through the air. Her body is close enough that I can smell her strawberry-scented bath gel—and it’s totally distracting. I wobble, struggling to adjust my stance, and her hand tightens on the back of my neck.

“Do I really make you that nervous, or are you trying to strangle me?” I ask, balancing my weight over my feet.

“I’m not nervous,” she says, tipping her chin. “I just know I’m probably heavier than you expected.”

I shake my head. “Victoria, this isn’t half of what I lift in weight training.”

Her gaze cuts to mine, and that defensive look falls away.

Now that she’s in my arms, I suddenly feel responsible for her in a way I haven’t before. It’s not just about technique now; it’s about her trusting me to keep her safe, even though most of the time we’re at each other’s throats. For someone who swears she doesn’t need anyone, she’s placing a lot of faith in me right now.

“See? Not so hard,” she murmurs softly. “You good?”

“If you count balancing another human without falling, then yes,” I say, setting her back down gently before she feels my pulse hammering. This partnership is going to kill me—and not because of the skating.

“You did it,” she says with a smile. Her hand lands on my arm, friendly and casual, but it’s like she flipped a switch inside me. My skin turns electric.

I step back like I’ve touched a live wire. “Don’t.”

“What?” she asks with a frown.

“Pretend we’re... friends .” I glance away, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m just here to get the job done.” The words feel like a blatant lie, and they are. Under no circumstances can I let her see that she’s the only woman who can make me lose control like this.

Her hand falls back to her side as she tilts her head, studying me. “Why? Afraid I’ll see past those walls of yours?”

I look at the floor. “What you think you see and what’s real are two different things.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Ego,” she says. “We’ll see who’s right.”