“It’s not fair, though. You’re asking me to change who I am while you walk around miserable and not talking to anyone. Why do I have to be honest with you if you’re still going to treat me like that?”
A corner of his mouth twitched upward, amused.
“I’ll try to be nicer,” he offered, and I laughed.
“Not good enough.” I crossed my arms, encouraged by hisalmostsmirk.
“I bought you coffee,” he bargained, and I just raised an eyebrow in response.
He leaned back against the sofa and looked at the ceiling.
“If you promise to be honest with me, I will try to be nicer. I’ll participate in the show more,andwe can get some footage for the cutaways, too.”
Now, thatwasa good offer. I had been gunning for some content for the cutaways from the start; it would increase our chances of winning.
“OK, deal.” I smiled and held out my coffee cup to him, some semblance of relief washing over me. “Cheers?” I asked, when his brow furrowed.
He rolled his eyes but obliged, knocking his cup against mine.
“I’m going to head to the studio to skate.” He looked at me in question.
I had just finished a workout and had mentally written off skating for the day. But it would probably be better if we both—
No, Matilda. Time to test the honesty deal.
“I’d prefer to stay here, if that’sOK?”
“Of course.” He stood, and I followed him to the door, relieved at his earnest tone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow.” He nodded and seemed to think better of his parting remark. “Bye, Matilda. Have a good rest of your day.” His words sounded forced and strained, a bit like he was being held at gunpoint.I’ll takeit.
I smiled. “Bye, Luca.”
Dress rehearsals were always hit-or-miss.
Some celebrities were as confident on the ice as they were in their everyday jobs, but others buckled under the pressure. I was sure Luca would be the former. Even before our argument, we’d been smashing training. Luca would probably deny it, but since our conversation the other morning, something had changed between us, making it easier to skate together.
Ninety percent of the time, he was still a one-word-answer kind of guy. But for the other ten percent, he would offer a few sentences or a longer back-and-forth, which made things feel more manageable. His words also lacked the sharpness they’d had in the first five weeks. We hadn’t been in front of the camera yet for cutaways, but that wasn’t within his control.
Over the past week, he had kept his promise, and I had tried my hardest to keep mine. It was more mentally draining than I’d thought it would be. What he’d said about his mother frequently played through my mind.
She realized she’d wasted her life caring only about what others thought of her…In the end, it didn’t matter.
I tried not to think about it too much, because it made myheart beat a little too fast and my breaths come a little too quickly. So, I settled on using Luca as a trialrun.
He wants to hear what you honestly think.
A lot of the time, I didn’t even know what I wanted, so it was taking some time to figure thatout.
It was the busiest I’d seen the rink on a Saturday. People hurried around the studio, weaving between costumes, deliveries, and cameras. As we’d all been assigned different rinks and timetables for training, it was the first time we’d see everyone’s music choice and skating level.
As I approached our dressing room, muffled voices filtered out from behind the door.
Pushing it open, I found Jack in his usual position, sprawled across one sofa, and Luca sitting on the other.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Jack said in greeting.
