Page 68 of Fate on Skates


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The waitress brings our beers, placing them in front of us.

“Just put it on my tab,” Connor says. “You talk to Nico?” he asks as he reaches for his beer.

I pick up mine and take a big gulp.

“No.” I take another mouthful. “You talk to… whoever it was you were hooking up with?”

“Nope.”

I nod.

“So, we’re in the same boat then,” I say.

“Seems that way.”

“Great. We’re going to have two depressed fucks on the team when we start in a couple days.”

Connor laughs, staring down at his beer. “I’ll get over it. Always do.”

“This feels different.”

He nods slowly but says nothing.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe. But not today.”

I bring my attention back to the TV, which is now talking about hockey and how Canada won the gold.

“Bitches,” Connor mutters.

I huff a laugh. “They played a good game.”

“Abbot is never going to let us live this down.” He shakes his head, taking another swig.

Jared Abbot is a forward for the Diamonds… and was on the Canadian team and won the gold.

“I’ll put itching powder in his skates.”

Connor barks a laugh. “He’d fucking kill you.”

“I could use a fight right now.”

We have a couple more beers then call it a night. I cuddle with Taco and Nico’s sweatshirt to fall asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nico

I free-skate around the rink, practicing my twists and flips. Coach will be here in an hour, but I needed to let off some steam first—nothing out of the ordinary, especially not lately. I spend more time in this rink than I do at home, which used to be an exciting thing—knowing I was preparing for the Olympics. Now? Everything feels flat.

I love skating and that will never change, but going back to regular tours after being in the Olympics? You’d think it would have heightened my love for the ice, but I only have this sick, heavy feeling in my stomach.

Which may have nothing to do with skating at all, and everything to do with someone. I skate to the bench to get some water and check my phone.

There’s a text from Étienne. He’s the only one who texts me lately.

Étienne: Come to my house after practice. I have a surprise for you.