“No.” Tanner turns his hat around. It was on backwards for the performance, but now he’s got the bill pulled down, covering half his face. Hiding. “We agreed we wouldn’t bother her. She’s still got one more event tomorrow, and she doesn’t need to be distracted.”
In Tanner’s book, being distracted is the greatest sin. Focus is the highest goal. His dad drilled that into him with harsh words and a stiff belt. I don’t think it’s Raven he’s worried will be distracted. We’ve still got another game before the semi-finals, and we’re neck-in-neck with theItalian team.
“Let’s just get out of here.” Tanner stands up, still holding my hand the way he has been since he first saw Raven again. I know this is stirring up some strong insecurities for him. He was always the cruelest to her. I’ve never asked him why, but I just know there was something that instigated it. One day she was a classmate he barely noticed and the next, he was tormenting her every chance he got. Pushing her to the outskirts. Making sure she was alone and no one went near her.
“Let me at least get someone to give her this.” Vann pulls a little box out of his bag.
“What is it?” Rhodes asks.
Before Vann can answer, something flashes on the big screen over the ice that has all of us letting out low growls. There’s another man—another alpha—holding our girl.
18
RAVEN
Ifling myself at Foster the second I come off the ice. Still panting from exertion, adrenaline pumping through my blood, I feel floaty and lightheaded. I go to him without thought or hesitation, and he closes his arms around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The arena is quiet as we wait for the officials to compute my final score for this event. The wait is usually agonizing, but right now, I feel like I’m on top of the world. I competed in the Olympics! And I did well. Not the best. But damn good.
“I’m so proud of you,” Foster whispers in my ear, his palm rubbing circles on my back.
I should pull away, but I melt into him, letting myself catch my breath, surrounded by the security and safety he provides. I wish I could scent him, but his blockers are doing their job. I’m sure he smells amazing, something manly and woodsy to go along with the massive, muscular arms holding me with care. Looking up, our gazes lock, and I’m surprised by what I see. There’s a sparkle in his eyesthat speaks of pride, admiration, and possibly even… love? Well, maybe notlove—that’s probably just wishful thinking—but something more than strictly professional feelings.
“Raven Alexandra Novak!” Coach Ana hisses under her breath, her tone causing me to startle and turn away from Foster’s heated stare. “People are watching.”
Oh, shit. I wasn’t thinking about the optics. Foster is my bodyguard, not my boyfriend. My show of affection for him is fodder for the gossip mill, and goodness knows the omega detractors don’t need anymore ammunition.
I shouldn’t be showing my omega proclivities when I’m trying to prove that we aren’t any different from other athletes. Even if I’m touch-starved and alpha-hungry. And even if the other betas—and the alpha—who performed before me all hugged people after their set.
I jump back from Foster and throw my arms around Ana. Maybe being extra excited with everyone will help? What do I know?
I hug Harriett, my publicist, next for good measure.
“Good idea,” Harriett whispers. “But let’s avoid throwing ourselves at alphas in the future, if you can.” The last part is said with a touch of condescension I try to ignore. “You have an image to maintain. Hmm?”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.” I try to laugh off the reprimand. “I was just excited.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Coach Ana pulls me out of the line of the camera, dropping her voice. “The landing on your double axel was sloppy, and I thought we agreed you’d do a triple.”
“We did, but?—”
“You’ll have to do one tomorrow if you want a chanceat medaling.” Coach looks like she wants to say more, but then the announcer’s voice booms through the arena, preparing to announce my scores. We all look up to the screen in anticipation. I wring my hands in my lap.
“I punteggi per Raven Novak dagli USA…”
The announcer's voice is loud but I cease hearing him as my scores finally flash on the screen. My heart sinks like a lead balloon.
Technical Elements: 34.91
Presentation: 32.67
Deductions: -1.00
Total Segment Score: 66.58
Not good enough.
Coach narrows her eyes at me, and I feel two inches tall under her steely gaze.
