“You know, he’s the reason that I had no hesitation pairing up with you.”
My heart stops. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve spent a lifetime watching that hardass face down every challenge. I want my last years in this sport to count. I want to challenge myself, and I think I can do that with you.”
I’d wondered why Spencer chose me over other figure skaters, plenty with more accolades, better reputations, and bigger fanbases. This reason—that I could challenge him to take risks—never crossed my mind.
Spencer spins one hundred and eighty degrees to face the bench. “Linden, can you queue up my emergency playlist? Please.”
“Emergencyplaylist?” I ask. “What’s the emergency?”
He flashes me a smile. “Trust me, Isla.”
Moments later, I’m shocked when our stick-up-her-ass coach obeys Spencer. Earlier, we walked through our program, pausing the music to talk through each element and practice it to her heart’s content. This time, the repetition of three notes on the electric guitar blares through the rink speakers, the widely recognized beginning toWhat’s My Age Again?The notes hit my bloodstream instantly, and my feet move of their own accord to the beat of the music, skating into a camel spin. I bend at the waist, dropping toa ninety-degree angle while my leg holds straight out, creating one long line in the air from head to foot as I skate in a circle.
When I come out of the spin, I spot Spencer heading my way, opening his arms like he expects me to walk into them. He holds out his hand as he slides down the ice in front of me.
“Double axel-Euler-double sal,” Spencer says suddenly, releasing my hands and speeding toward me until he’s at my side. “You ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
Spencer shifts to skate backward as we approach the curve in the rink, and I follow suit, keeping sufficient distance so we can perform the skills together without running into each other. “On three. One…two…three.”
I shift forward again after gaining sufficient speed, squatting down with my left leg and propelling my right leg into the air, bending it once I’m airborne as I complete a double axel, two and a half turns. I land on my left leg and immediately launch into half rotation to allow for an edge change before performing a double salchow, completing two revolutions in the air again and landing on my left skate.
Spencer lands beside me with a grin on his face that likely matches my own. It’s hard to describe the unmatched invincibility that comes with a perfect landing.
He croons the last line of the song, pointing at me while he drags out the final syllable.
I shake my head at his absurdity. “You might be the most unserious person I’ve ever met.”
“Also, the happiest.” He places his hands underneath his chin, palms down, fingers facing each other. Adorable.
Claps ring out as our music cuts off. My head whips to the sidelines to find the man who has made inconvenient appearances in my dreams since the night he drove me home. My stomach plummets, staring at Wes Davidson leaning against the side railing of the tunnel, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The intense hunger in his stare causes my knees to buckle.
Every time I’ve made the mistake of looking at him these past two weeks, a shiver has shot down my spine, and I’ve headed in the other direction. I can’t have any distractions.
Thea stands beside him, clad in her hockey gear sans her helmet. I’m happy to see her smiling face, especially after how down she was when I last saw her.
Spencer snaps his fingers. “Oh! I have a solution for your problem. You should bring a date to your family dinner.”
A laugh burst from deep in my chest. Why would I ever torture someone like that?
“What?” Spencer presses on. He begins skating again, in a circle around me. “It’s a great idea. Some guy shows up and makes heart eyes at you, and it’ll make it harder for them to pull their usual bullshit. It’ll show your ex and your mom that you’ve moved on.”
I follow Spencer’s lead, drifting into a slow circle around him as he continues to spin. “This is a joke, right?”
“Isla, trust me. It’ll work. Just find a guy—”
“Is this your way of trying to snag a front seat to the trainwreck that is my family?”
“I got someone better,” he says before taking off toward the other side of the rink.
I realize a half-second too late thesomeonehe has in mind. “Spencer, don’t!” I call while chasing after him.
“—needs a favor,” I hear Spencer finish to a furrowed-brow Wes.
I hold my hands up. “No, I don’t. No favors needed at all. Do not listen to him.”
