I sighed. “Control the variables available to you.”
“Exactly.”
“And if I hear that sentence one more time, I may throw him into traffic.”
She bit her lip. “That would certainly affect the component scores.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
I wasn’t watching Georgia’s pair. I was running through the program in my mind—and trying not to glance toward the USA team’ssection.
He might not even be there.
I knew he’d watch on the screens. Dean’s event would take place in two hours’ time. He was probably on the practice rink, focused on his own performance.
Mila followed my line of thought too easily. “He’s here, with his team.”
I stilled. “Yes?”
She bit her lip. “And Donna is with them too.”
“You saw her?”
She rolled her eyes. “Luka, I am many things. Blind is not one of them.”
Whatever I’d been about to say died in my throat when Sokolov approached, his gaze sweeping over both of us.
“You are ready.”
It was not a question.
Mila straightened beside me. “Yes.”
His eyes settled on me. “This is not about placement now,” he said evenly. “This is about clarity. Skate the program you trained.”
I nodded.
Usually expectation sat on my shoulders.
Tonight it felt as though it was behind me.
Applause rolled through the building in waves as Georgia finished their skate.
Mila reached for my hand. “Are you with me?” she asked in a quiet voice.
I looked at her, my partner, my friend, the person who had stood beside me through every version of this life. “Yes.”
I meant it.
Behind me, Sokolov drew in a sharp intake of breath. “135.36. That might remove their chances of a medal. You can beat that.”
The announcer’s voice echoed suddenly through the arena.
“Representing Velkarya… Luka Davorin and Mila Kadanek.”
The roar that followed hit like a sledgehammer.
I inhaled once and stepped onto the ice beside her.
