Page 60 of Ice Dance

My smile grew with every step away from his room. Holy shit, Hasegawa had kissed me. I hadn’t done that. I hadn’t pulled him into it. He’d kissed me. And alright, so he’d been a bit drunk, and angry, and real confused, but it had been a thing, for sure. Someone like him, though, if I went in too hard, too fast, he’d back off. I wasn’t going to be the person who did that to him.

Besides, we had work to do.

And I had a feeling things might flow a little better between us, now we knew exactly what we wanted.

Even if we couldn’t have it . . . yet.

TWENTY-THREE

REN

Navarro was coming out of the rocker on the ice too late. Every time.

We’d somehow, miraculously returned to the ice the day after my hotel room meltdown, as though nothing had happened between us. If anything, he’d seemed more focused on the ice than I’d seen from him yet, but just as stubborn, and his focus had helped me align myself, slotting my control back where it needed to be.

We ran the element again, and the rocker came up. He went in, weight wrong. I caught him, hands at his waist, before he went over.

“You’re late again.”

“I know,” he breathed, puffing hair from his face. “I’m getting it.”

Dylan counted us in, and we went again. He came out late again.

“Don’t chase it,” I said. “You’re chasing it on entry. Let it come under you. Your weight is still sitting back, so by the time you turn, the edge is already gone.”

“I said I know.”

“Knowing isn’t doing.”

He circled on the ice, hands on his hips, doing a lazy turn that brought him back around to my stationary position, and he smiled. Dylan didn’t see it, but I did, and that same little flicker of heat ignited in my chest.

“Let’s come back to this,” Dylan said. “Mix it up. Alright, so you’re starting to click, and I like what I’m seeing. Good work. I’ve been thinking about the middle section of the routine.”

“The argument,” Navarro said.

“Yes. It’ll be a staccato diagonal-step sequence, on your toes, sharp rhythm, kick throughs, change of edge, and several close passes. You’re both more than capable separately, but to make it work, we’re going to need to combine these sequences so that you look as though you’re going to collide—without actually colliding, obviously.”

This was not going to be easy. We’d need to cut across the rink on opposing edges, and commit to the mirrored one-foot spins while coming at each other. Every kick would cut across the other’s line. Every exit and edge would bring us closer on the ice. It required impeccable trust that your partner was exactly where they needed to be. Because if they weren’t, it was going to hurt.

I rolled my shoulders, thinking it through in my head. This would have been safer to try out in the dance studio, but I hadn’t known whether we’d be returning there, and it seemed not, if we were diving straight into it on the ice.

Distance skating into confrontation. Confrontation into near contact. Near contact into the catch, that was the climax of the middle.

We took up our positions, and the rest of the rink faded into the background. Dylan counted us in, and we moved, pushing into the ice, building up speed. My heart raced. Navarro in the corner of my eye. Good position. Then I had to let him go, and trust he’d be where he was supposed to be. Weight transfer, bracket, dip, spin. Arms in, on the toes, fast toe step, on toe picks. Tension through the legs. Free leg out, slow. Navarro drove out of the last step too close. His blade cut across my path, his leg snapped through the kick. I swerved, saw him tilt, and caught his waist, catching the momentum before it broke. His body hit the hold hard, breath sharp against my jaw, and the whole argument turned, violently, into dance.

We spun out, and skated free, gracefully coming out of the move exactly where we needed to be.

“Holy shit,” Dylan cheered. “First time! Are you kidding me?”

Navarro was grinning, and perhaps I was a little too.

We looped back into Dylan.

“Now, if you can both do that every day, from here on out, I can retire. Brilliant. Whatever you’ve worked out between you, keep at it. It’s working.”

My gaze caught Navarro’s, and held it too long. He eventually blinked away.

“So we know it’s not a fluke, do it again,” Dylan said.