He followed my gaze. “Ah, is that your girl?”
I let out an incredulous breath as I gave my head a little shake. “No, but I’ve always hoped so.”
With a laugh, he clapped me on the back again. “Wow. JP McQuaid. I can’t wait to tell the guys about this, they’re gonna be so jealous. So, hey, we’re actually hitting the bars downstairs later if you want to join us? We figured we’d get the lay of the land tonight if you know what I mean? Figure out where all the ladies are going and all that.” He wagged his eyebrows.
He continued talking, but I didn’t listen—Icouldn’tlisten—because I was too mesmerized by her. She sat facing the water, her short damp hair blowing around her in the breezy night wind. She wore a little pink slip dress and an athletic jacket. God, she was so beautiful. That outfit was probably more for comfort than looks. After wearing tights all her life for skating, I knew she hated any pants that restricted her stomach, and I also knew she had a hard time warming up after spending time in the rink.
I laughed to myself.
This felt right.
This felt meant to be.
As soon as the bartender presented the drinks, I swiped one. “Thanks for the drink, man. I owe you one.”
4.ALI - DIFFERENT
Okay, one last push and then you’re done with the hard stuff for the night,I mentally told myself as I set up for my butterfly spin to end my solo in the show tonight.
After hitting the fly and landing in a back-camel position, I grabbed my blade and pulled into the donut, making my spin pick up speed for a couple seconds. Right after I dropped out, I hit my final pose on the last beat of the music.
I stood there beaming up into the spotlight for a second. I couldn’t make out any specific faces in the stands with the lights shining in my eyes, especially not after spinning.
But as soon as the lights dimmed, I caught sight of one specific face in the crowd and almost tripped over myself.
What the fuck?
“Ali!” someone whispered from backstage, snapping me out of my shock.
In a haze of confusion, I quickly exited the ice through the thick curtain.
Did I really just see him?
Or was my mind playing tricks on me?
There’s no way JP McQuaid—the same JP who just won a Stanley Cup with the Windy City Whalers, the same JP who I grew up with, who I had a years-long crush on, and who was present on theworst night of my life—was currently sitting in the stands, watchingmyshow.
Then again, maybe his presence would explain why he’d been popping up in so many of my dreams lately. Maybe my subconscious mind had been trying to warn me that I was about to see him.
Or maybe I was just imagining his face on some random guy. That was more likely. I really was exhausted. After dreaming about him again last night, I spent hours tossing and turning, not able to fall back asleep.
I was supposed to be doing a quick change into my next costume, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to think straight during my next program unless I got confirmation. Gliding to the edge of the rink where the curtain met the boards, I inconspicuously peeked through the thick velvet material.
Squinting at the faces in the crowd, I struggled to remember exactly where he was sitting. I was about to give up, but right before I turned away, I sucked in a sharp breath.
There he was, focused on the show, watching contentedly. Elbows on his knees, holding his scruffy chin, he looked contemplative as he watched. He still wore his dirty-blonde hair in a buzzcut, but that was as much as I could tell with the lights out.
Part of me wanted to run to him, jump at him for a hug. I wanted to be in his arms so desperately. It’d feel so right, so natural. And maybe seeing him would squelch the overwhelming loneliness I’d been feeling lately.
But the other part of me knew his presence on this ship wasnota good thing.
No one booked a solo cruise.
My heart ricocheted around in my chest.
So, that meant… That meant he found someone.
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest.
