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“Yeah, but he’s gonna be good.”

I laughed. “That’s kinda the point.”

We had an hour until Ren’s program. I was definitely staying to watch. Zoe too. We carried our skates up to a rinkside booth we could watch from. Our performance was over unless we got to stand on the podium later. We could only hope our scores were good enough. Nobody had beaten us yet, and group three had just finished up.

What was he thinking right now? He probably had his head in the zone, deep in thought about his program. He wasn’t thinking about how I’d told him I loved him then walked away. Maybe he’d forgotten that part.

“So, you and him, then . . .” Zoe said. It had probably been killing her not to mention it before now. “Don’t come at me.” She play-winced. “He’s not going to show up beside the rink for any competitor he doesn’t care about, is all I’m saying.”

I side-eyed her and shrugged. “Yeah, me and him.”

She nodded, letting the non-denial sink in. “You kept it quiet for a while. Which must have been difficult for you, since you can’t keep anything quiet.”

I laughed at that. “It’s complicated.”

“I bet. The ice prince and figure skating’s bad boy. Who saw that coming, huh?” She pulled a silly face. “Only everyone who watched the dirty dancing video like two years ago.”

That damn video. I huffed a laugh. “I swear we were not a thing back then.”

“Right.” She laughed. “Have you even seen the video? I’m never going to believe another thing you say . . .” She cut herself off. Her gaze sailed behind me. She smiled. “Hi Ren.”

“Hello, Zoe.”

I whipped my head around, and there he was, all dressed up in his dance costume, dark eyeliner, glitter, soft velvet, and tight Lycra. The works. So long and lean and dramatic and hot as fuck.

I forgot how to talk for a second. “Hey,” I croaked. “Shouldn’t you be by the boards?”

“I will be. Can I speak with you for a few minutes?”

Uh-oh. But he didn’t look angry. Although he was even more impossible to read with all the eye makeup on. “Sure.”

I was pretty sure he had his serious face on. Which happened to be the same as his everyday face, so it wasn’t any help at all when it came to trying to figure out what he was here for.

Zoe was smiling too much when I left the booth and followed Ren to a nearby prep room, probably his and Tamsyn’s. Tamsyn wasn’t inside. Just him and me, flowers, and the general chaos of bags and equipment strewn about.

“I wanted you to be the first to know,” he said.

“Know what?” I leaned against the makeup table, hoping I looked casual while my heart galloped.

He lifted his chin. “This will be my last dance. My . . . legacy.”

My heart dropped.

His lined eyes flicked away. “After this, I’m retiring⁠—”

“Ren—”

He raised a hand. “Please, don’t argue.” Those dark, emotive eyes narrowed. “I’ll dance this for me, and for Tamsyn, and then it’s over.”

He wasn’t going to budge on this, not here, not now, so I’d let it go, but we’d come back around to it. His emotions were raw, even though he didn’t show it. That was his way. Show nothing, be cold and guarded to protect himself. But inside, he was hurting. His father had done a real number on his confidence.

“Alright, I won’t argue.”

His shoulders dropped. “That’s a first.”

“You look hot by the way.”

He frowned. “Thank you?”