“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Fair warning, it’s going to be an adjustment from your last partner.”
Spencer’s eyebrows raise. “What do you mean?”
I gesture to my body with a flick of my wrist. “I’m what, five inches taller than her? Twenty pounds heavier? Sebastian used to complain about the effort to lift me. You’re stronger and bigger than him, but—”
“That’s bullshit,” he says, some ire sneaking into his usually pleasant tone. “Come here.”
His hands land on my waist once I’m standing before him. “Ready, one, two, three,” he counts.
I bend at the knees, aiding him in bringing me into the air. Both hands remain on my waist as he lifts me straight overhead with a full extension of his arms.
“Your last partner didn’t know what he was talking about. There’s nothing difficult about lifting you.” He lowers me to the ground, staring meaningfully at me, eyebrows drawn together. “Okay?”
“Okay.” The whispered words are so unlike me, but I’m hit with an unexpected wave of emotion. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes,” I vow.
“I know. That’s half the reason I picked you.”
“What’s the other half?”
“Your fire.”
A laugh bursts from me. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that in a few weeks.”
We spend the next few hours together in the weight room, the yoga room, the off-ice practice space, and eventually the rink. Most of our time is focused on conditioning and getting to know each other, talking about our styles and how we’d like to skate together. I’m relieved to find that Spencer doesn’t rely on his raw talent or his years of success, that he wants to train as hard as me.
“All right, let’s call it for the day,” Spencer says as he skates toward the exit. Once I reach him, he pauses his walk to turn to me. “I think this is going to work out.”
I flash him a cheeky smile. “Well, I’d hope so. I just uprooted my entire life to move here.”
“I think it’ll be worth it, Isla.”
“Good,” I reply, nodding. “Me too.”
My career rests entirely in his hands, which makes Spencer Davidson the most important person in my life.
I will do everything in my power to be the partner he needs to succeed.
Chapter 6
Wes
Mybrother’sbrightvoicebounces off the walls, announcing his arrival before I see him.
He bangs his fist against the door, opening it in dramatic fashion. Spence strolls into my office, still wearing his form-fitting black skating pants and a thick blue short-sleeved shirt.
“‘Helloooooo, brother.’” He spins ninety degrees to face Isla, pointing at her with a finger from each hand. “Name the show.”
I allow my gaze to land on Isla, who’s already looking at me. The power of her stare kicks open the trap door to the bottom of my stomach. I don’t fucking like the sensation in my gut when she’s in my vicinity. At thirty-two, I should be able to not lose my shit like a fourteen-year-old kid seeing a boob for the first time.
Her eyes go comically wide as she realizes that her new partner’s brother is none other than the guy she yelled at repeatedly this morning. I wave one hand, waggling my fingers in a subtle tease. Her expression falls, brows pulling together and lips forming a supple line.
No, just aline, dammit.
Spencer snaps his fingers. “Please save whatever this”—he motions between us—“is for when I’m not in the room.”
I immediately drop my gaze to the papers on my desk, burning with annoyance for my little brother’s penchant for drama. Nothing is happening between Isla and me outside of mutual annoyance. But I can’t tell him that and complicate his relationship with her.
“I wasn’t—” Isla starts before abruptly cutting herself off and letting out a huff of breath.
