“You do anything for the people you love, to make sure they’re okay and cared for and listened to.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I think my reasons are better.”
“Of course you do, my self-sacrificing grump.” I pinch his side, and he recoils away from me, sliding out of bed.
“On that note, I’m going to go downstairs to wait for our food.” His entire body is gloriously on display. I watch his back muscles tense as he struggles to pull his wet jeans on. “I feel you watching me.”
“Not hiding it,” I sing, as he slips back into his damp T-shirt. “Hope you don’t mind, because I’ll be doing this every day.”
He winks at me. “Admire away, Red.”
He moves through the room with ease before disappearing into the hallway. I think it’s the same confidence I feel, from knowing the person I love loves me too.
Chapter 27
Isla
Aknockonthedoorsounds a few minutes after Wes leaves the room, and my stomach sinks.
The man I disappointed today, after he wagered his career on me, stands on the other side. I hustle to my suitcase, throw on a pair of leggings and a zip-up sweatshirt, and then open the door to my fate.
“Hi,” I say, stepping aside so he can walk into the room.
“Hey, Isla,” Spencer answers as if it’s any other day, not one where I caused him to bleed in competition. He’s got a line of stitches across his forehead, angry red and blue skin sealed together with black thread. With the amount of blood that poured onto the ice, I expected it to be worse. I’m relieved that I didn’t cause more damage, but guilt still crashes over me.
I clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip, fighting to keep in the tears. Spencer doesn’t hesitate, taking purposeful steps toward me until I’m in his arms. I begin to cry, big fat drops splashing down my face.
“I’m so sorry,” I say against his shoulder as he pats my back.
“I’m okay,” he whispers. He lets me cry against him for a few minutes. “We’refine, Isla.”
“You know how bad that could’ve been. I shouldn’t have tensed, or pushed you away. I should’ve followed our training. I don’t know what happened.”
“My skate blade loosened and I wobbled, and you didn’t trust that I had you.” He plucks the words from my mind, the ones I’m too ashamed to admit to him. Spencer ignored my reputation and baggage to give me a shot, and I couldn’t trust him when he needed it most.
“I get it. The wobble spooked me, too. But I had you, Isla,” he says, gaze fixed on me. “It’s my job to protect you if something goes wrong, and I always will.”
I swallow hard. “It wasn’t always that way with my last partner. I…broke my wrist once, came close to hitting my head a couple of times. I never felt sure I’d be okay if something went wrong, and seeing him before we competed, it rattled me.”
I take a shallow breath, readying myself to walk away from this partnership, to do what’s best for Spence. “That’s why I think we should stop skating together. I don’t want to hurt you or ruin our friendship. And I can’t risk my relationship with Wes.”
Spencer grins. “You finally told him, huh?”
I give him a withering stare.
“Right,” he says, with a nod, his smile fading into seriousness. “Not the time.”
“I love you both too much to risk you because I’m a mess. I know this puts you in a bad spot, Spence, but—”
“Stop assuming the worst of us,” he cuts in. “I’m not your last partner.”
I fiddle with the cuff of my sleeve. “You say that, but—”
“You’re family, Isla,” Wes says, from the doorway, his hands full of bags. I didn’t hear him come in, and have no idea what he heard of our conversation. “We show up for each other no matter what. You’re going to screw up again. Spence and I will, too. But it doesn’t mean we cut and run or hold it against each other either. I know you haven’t had that experience before, and it might take some getting used to. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Spencer nods definitively. “I’m not, either. I want to keep skating with you. We were magic for ninety percent of that routine. We’ve only been partnered for three months, and that’s how good we are. It’s all part of growing pains. I’m willing to put in the work on the ice, off the ice, with a sports psychologist, whatever we need to make this work.”
“How can you mean that?” I whisper.
