Chapter Eleven

KATYA

MARCH

“ T hat's it, I'm done.”

I sigh. “Bryan, you can’t just quit.”

“Of course I can.” My partner raises his eyebrows at me, pointing to his skates as he exaggeratedly steps off the ice. “See?”

We’ve been working on quadruple toe loops for the last two and a half hours, without much to show for it. Bryan can land one once in a while, but he keeps panicking and popping them any time we try to add steps going into it. We’ve done them over and over for days, trying to figure out how he can land them consistently—and I know he’s angry at himself, no matter how much he likes to laugh it off.

I eye him as he leans over, sandy hair falling into his face as he slings his guards on. “You’re never going to get it if you keep being lazy about it, you know.”

He scoffs. “ Lazy ?”

Okay, that might be a bit harsh. He might still suck at quads, but if I’ve learned anything about my partner in the two months I’ve been training with him—time flies when you’re training constantly—it’s that he works his ass off. Surprisingly enough.

I roll my eyes. “Fine, not lazy. But we’re not going to be able to put it into the program if you don’t get it down soon.”

Bryan grins, blue eyes teasing as he looks up at me through his stupidly overgrown bangs and those golden lashes of his. “I’m just pulling your leg, Katya. I know.”

“Pulling my—what does that even mean?”

He rolls his eyes, reaching past me for his other guard. “You really do come from another planet. I was right about you being an alien.”

I snatch his guard before he can take it, and smack him on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Come on. Time for more jumps.”

“Okay, mom,” he jokes. “Come on. I was just messing with you.”

Of course he was. He seems to find it hilarious when I get annoyed, which must be why he’s so good at it. “You need a haircut,” I inform him, and he just grins bigger.

“Come on, sunshine, you know it’s a look.”

“It’s not. You can’t look at anything with all that hair in your face. At least gel it back or something.”

“I, unlike some people I know, don’t enjoy looking like my hair is glued to my skull.”

“Now you’re being mean.”

“Me? Never. You? Always.”

“Yeah, yeah…” I push him against the wall and force his arm back, prying off his guard myself and tossing it aside.

“What are you—”

I take him by the shoulders, turn him around, and push him back towards the door. “Get back to work!”

Before he can protest further, we’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “What is going on in here?”

“Nothing, because he’s about to get back on the ice. Right, Bryan?” I ask sweetly, and my partner groans.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Oh my god!” Lian yells, throwing her hands up. “Jeez. It’s like dealing with kindergarteners.”

We both deflate, pouting in silence.

“She started it,” Bryan blurts, and I smack him.

“Ow!” he cries out. I stick my tongue out at him. “She just hit me!”

Our coach is not impressed. “Your original guess was right, Bry. Maybe you should run away and join the circus instead of wasting all of our time, because you two are absolute clowns.”

She’s not wrong. I don’t know what it is about my partner that makes every ounce of professionalism fly out the window.

“Sorry,” we mumble.

Lian rolls her eyes. “Both of you, go home. We’ll keep working on side-by-sides tomorrow. We need to trim those up if we want to be ready for the season when it starts.”

I grimace at the reminder of our time crunch, and Bryan smirks, saluting me. “Peace out.”

He is such a little shit. I grumble this under my breath, then turn to go, but Lian stops me. “Nope. You’re going with him.”

“What? Why?”

“No!” Bryan cries. “She’s too judgy. She’s going to judge me and my choice in shows!”

“I wonder why,” I mutter.

“Lee, come on, you can’t let her ruin Bachelor night.”

“You need to spend more time with each other.”

I frown. “We spend all day together, six days a week.”

Lian gives me a look. “Real partnerships aren’t limited to the workplace. You need to bond. Tell me honestly, do either of you know anything about each other?”

“Yes,” we both say immediately.

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Bryan, what’s Katya’s middle name?”

Shit.

“That’s what I thought. Katya, I like you, but you need to get out of my house. For both our sakes. You’re nineteen years old, you really shouldn’t be shut in with your coach on a Saturday night.”

“Instead I should be shut in with my partner and his little sister while they binge reality television?” I point out, and Bryan shakes his head.

“See? Judgy .”

“Just because I make fun of you doesn’t mean I make fun of everything. You’re an exception.”

“Aw, I’m touched.”

“No, you’re just very easy to make fun of.”

He pouts.

“Stop.”

He exaggerates the pout, blue eyes glistening and puppy gaze going into full force. It’s almost disgusting. He could probably kill someone in cold blood, and a jury would let him off without a second thought.

To be fair, I seriously doubt Bryan Young could kill someone. He’s too soft. Drive them to suicide with his incessant idiocy, though, he is more than capable of. I’m struck once again by the overwhelming urge to hit myself in the head with a skate. “Ugh!”

Lian is not amused. “And for the record, this isn’t the last of it. You’ll hang out tonight, and then tomorrow night, and the night after—”

“And the night after?” Bryan deadpans, and our coach raises an eyebrow.

“Well, since you suggested it, sure.”

“Aren’t you clever,” he mutters, and she pins him with a look.

“I’m not kidding around. You’re going to spend lots of time together. Get used to it.”

“Doing what?” I protest. “There’s nothing to do in this town.”

“Aha!” Bryan cries. See, you’ve offended my town, therefore you have offended me. I’m going to educate you on the wonders of Lake Placid.”

I stare at him, then turn back to Lian. “Why would you do this to me? I saved you.”

She shrugs innocently. “Sorry, kid. You’re on your own now.”