One

The smell of ice invigorates me, seeping into my bones like it always does as Kenzie and I skate in sync, each of us playing off the other's movements. The designated pop song for our routine blares through the speakers, keeping us in time as we dance together, hands joined. She gracefully lifts her leg, arcing it up into the air, and just as the beat hits, I haul her up and flip her over my arm, setting her back onto the ice with an ease that only comes from practicing our hearts out for weeks prior to this moment.

A momentary thrill courses through me as spectators cheer, awed by our flawless execution. Even with their approval, nervousness hums through my limbs as we get into position for the finale. Kenzie shimmies toward me in our dance, and we move with an almost telepathic precision. But that's to be expected with as long as Kenzie and I have worked together.

I was nineteen and she was eighteen when we got paired up by our coaches in order to pursue a professional partnership for figure skating. For the past four years, it's proven successful, and we get along great. In fact, she's more than just my partner. After my brother Joel, she's my most trusted friend.

The beat picks up, signaling that our pair lift is up next—the biggest move in this routine. Kenzie meets my eyes with a quick nod a second before it's time. Wrapping one hand around her thigh and the other on her waist, I hoist her above my head, spinning us around until she's fully into position. I drop one hand and splay it wide, balancing her above my head with one arm.

We complete the move perfectly, just like in practice, and I can't stop the smile that crosses my face as the music ends and we fold into our final bow. The crowd roars its approval, and satisfaction fills me.

Another competition in the books, and hopefully, another win to our names.

As the spectators' enjoyment dies down, I take Kenzie's hand and we skate off the ice toward a beaming Coach Zellers. "You two were fantastic," she says, wrapping us both in a hug.

I'm sweaty and tired but grateful to have had such a successful run. "Couldn't have done it without you, Coach."

She pats the back of my head as she places a kiss on Kenzie's forehead. "All right, you two; take a rest." Kenzie and I move off to the side, guzzling water and wiping ourselves down.

Exhaling a breath, Kenzie says, "You nailed that lift, Jude."

"Aw, come on." I bump her arm with mine. "You're the one who stuck those landings like an ice goddess."

A pink blush fills her cheeks as she bats her blue eyes at me. "You don't need to flatter me to make me fall in love with you, Judy. You're the love of my work life, and you know it."

Laughing, I swipe her water bottle from her and guide her to our seats. We have to wait until the final scores are tallied to know whether or not we came in first, but I've got a really good feeling about our performance.

After an excruciating deliberation where we, and everyone supporting us, probably waited with bated breath, the announcers give the final scores. One by one, each of the nine judges' scores light up the board. When the first high number is shown, I pump my fist in the air. Each score is given based on our routine's degree of difficulty, and how well we executed each technical element. And each subsequent score points to our victory.

As soon as we find out we won, Kenzie jumps into my arms and I spin her in the air, overjoyed.

Everything we've worked so hard for, for months on end, has just been worth it. We beat out the competition at regionals, meaning we'll be heading on to nationals in late summer.

After the initial celebration is over, Kenzie and I change into comfortable clothes for a meet and greet. This is my least favorite aspect of what we do, but it's necessary to network and schmooze our sponsors. I've never been over-the-top outgoing like my brother, unless I'm already comfortable with the people around me. It's like pulling teeth to make conversation with strangers, especially ones with money they're wanting to toss at me.

After half an hour of chatting with our supporters, Coach finally lets us off the hook, and we skirt out the door, undetected.

"What a rush," Kenzie says, twirling in the snow flurries that flutter down in the night sky. "But I'm exhausted. Think I could sleep for like…a week straight?"

A half-laugh, half-yawn escapes me, though I try to hide it behind my hand. "Probably. Honestly, I could too. At least we won't have to do any intensive training for a few weeks."

"True," she replies. "Maybe we can convince Coach to go easy on us for a while. You know, since we're a shoo-in for nationals."

I sling an arm around Kenzie's shoulders as she smiles up at me. "You going to hang out with Luca tonight?"

A dreamy smile lifts her lips. "Yeah." She turns and looks over her shoulder at the building we just exited. "He's still inside cleaning up but should be done soon."

"Wanna get something to eat while you wait?"

"Nah." She waves me off. "You go. Get some rest. We'll meet back up on Monday."

"All right." I kiss her temple, then step back. "See you later. Tell Luca I said hey."

"Will do." Kenzie crosses her arms and leans back against a cement pillar while I stride off toward my car. A lonely ache fills my chest as I begin to drive home alone. But I'm too wired after our win to want to eat, read a book, then fall into bed, as is my usual routine. Instead, I decide to go and see Joel.

He had a game tonight, so he couldn't come to my competition, but it's cool. Both of us are just too busy between practices and our jam-packed schedules to be at all the other's sporting events. We spend time together when we can, as sporadic as that may be, though we talk on the phone or text at least once a day.

I check the clock on the dash. He should still be playing. If I hurry, maybe I can catch the tail end of the game.

My phone rings and I press the speakerphone button. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, baby." Her tired voice reverberates through my car's speakers. "You did so good tonight."

"Thanks, Mom." Warmth fills me, as it always does when I get to talk to her, which hasn't been all that often since she's been busy undergoing cancer treatments. Dad hasn't left her side once throughout the ordeal, so neither of them have been able to catch any of my competitions or Joel's games in person for the last few months. But we get it; we just want her to get better. "How's Dad?"

"Oh, he's good. He just ran to the restroom a minute ago." There's a rustling on the other end of the phone that brings to mind an image of her trying to sit up in bed on her own. "We've been plopped on the bed all evening, bouncing between your competition and the Dragons' game."

I smile at our parents' dedication. They subscribed to every single streaming channel they needed to just to be able to catch all our wins and losses.

"Are you on your way there now?"

"Yeah," I say, making a right turn. "I'm headed to the rink. Hopefully, I'll be able to catch the last few minutes."

"Oh, come on, Turner!" Mom yells, clearly at the television. "Uh, sorry. He just got slammed because he didn't see the guy coming."

"Well, I'll let you go so you don't miss the rest of the game."

"Okay," she says on a weary sigh. "I just wanted to catch you to say congratulations. Go see your brother and then call me tomorrow, okay? You tell Joel the same."

"All right, Mom, I will. It's been good to hear your voice." My words feel like gravel in my mouth, a reminder that any phone call we share could be our last. I just saw my parents two months ago at Christmas, but if her cancer diagnosis has taught me anything, it's that time is fleeting, and you never know when someone could be taken from you.

"You too, Jude. Love you."

"Love you, Mom. Tell Dad I love him too." We hang up, and ten minutes later, I'm walking into the Dragons' arena, heading straight for the suites meant for the players' families. One cool thing about being the immediate relative of a player is the fancy little badge that gives you access to special seating.

As soon as I step inside the suite, the spicy smell of tacos hits me. People are milling around the area, some seated, others wandering over to the buffet, talking and watching the game. When Gwen, Joel's wife, sees me, she hurries over. "Jude! I didn't think you'd be able to make it. How'd the competition go?"

"We won." My smile widens. "We'll be heading to nationals in six months."

"Yay!" She jumps up and down before hurling herself into my arms, a huff of air squeaking out as I catch her. "I'm so happy for you and Kenz!" Stepping back, she holds me at arm's length. "I take it she's celebrating with Luca tonight?"

"Yeah. So I thought what better time to watch my little brother kill it on the ice."

"Psh." Gwen shakes her head. "Don't let Joel hear you call him that."

"Hey, two minutes is two minutes."

I follow Gwen, then situate myself into the seat beside her. The suite is filled almost to capacity with the same faces I usually see when I'm able to catch a game. There's Coach Pratt's wife and daughter, a few of the other guys' wives and kids, including Archer's daughter, Indigo. The new social media manager, who I guess also happens to be one of the guys' fiancées, sits on the other side of Gwen. At least I think that's who she is. I don't know, it's hard to keep up with stuff lately, as engrossed as I've been with my own training.

Archer's daughter bounces on her seat between Ronnie, the scout's daughter, and Chantelle, Coach Pratt's daughter. Everyone is so riveted on the last few minutes of the game, my arrival is hardly noticed. Which is fine with me. If I'm not on the ice, I loathe being the center of attention. The total opposite of Joel, whose goal is to make everyone laugh, all the time.

He's a jokester, prankster, and a general loudmouth. But I gotta love him. And most people who know him do, especially Gwen. She's been in our lives a long time, being my brother's girlfriend since junior high. She's put up with a lot from him over the years, but light never dims from her eyes when she watches him out on the ice.

Number fourteen catches my eye from down below, and I watch in awe as Joel makes a slapshot directly into the other team's goal.

The suite erupts in cheers for the Dragons. "He did it!" Gwen leaps from her chair with hands raised. "Yes!" When she offers me a high five, I take it.

"Dude's got skills, I'll give him that."

"He so does." She stares dreamy-eyed at her player when he spins around and blows a kiss pointed directly up at the suite. She pretends to catch it with a gigantic smile on her face. Again, that lonely tinge pinches my chest.

I'm not jealous of my brother and Gwen's long-game love story, or even Kenzie and Luca's whirlwind romance. They all deserve to be happy with their respective partners, but I can't deny that it would be nice to not have to go home alone every single night.

My rigorous schedule isn't exactly conducive to a thriving dating life. Kenzie only met Luca once he started working for the training center we practice in. They hit it off, he took her out, and that was that. They've been practically glued at the hip since.

But me? I guess I just haven't had the opportunity to meet the right person. Someone who pulls me out of my shell effortlessly, the way Kenzie does to Luca. Joel tells me I should try harder, date more, but…figure skating has always been my first love. It's why I've pursued it so relentlessly.

Our parents sacrificed their entire lives for Joel's and my dreams, but to their own financial detriment. Now, it's our responsibility to make that up to them with our careers. "Your success is our success," Mom would always say as she carted us around to our practices without so much as a grumble. "Someday, it'll all be worth it. You'll see."

But we all know we haven't reached that point yet. Joel makes more from being in the minor leagues than I do from prize money and sponsorships. But if Kenz and I win at nationals, that's another notch in my belt, another prize to add to the pot that my brother and I have been building to try and pay off the loans our dad took out for us to be able to pursue our passions, in addition to the medical bills that are piling up by the second with Mom's illness.

"Hey, you coming?" Gwen bumps my arm, staring at me with raised brows.

"Sorry, I was lost in thought." My gaze skates around the suite where people are filing out to meet with their respective players.

"I asked if you wanted to come and hang out with us at Brokedown tonight. I know Joel would want you there after both of your big wins." Gwen's warm smile is inviting enough without her trying to convince me.

"Sure, let's go."

So much for not wanting to draw attention to myself.

Joel's got his arm slung around my shoulders, a full glass in his raised hand as he shouts a Miley Cyrus song at the top of his lungs. Everyone in the pub joins in with him, smiles and laughter had all around.

Well, everyone except the one grumpy defenseman who sits at the bar, his hands snaked around the waist of the singing blonde in front of him.

When Joel's attempt at a harmony reaches the crescendo, I peel his arm off me and step back. "I think you've had enough to drink." I take his glass from him and set it on the bar top.

"It's only iced tea!" His wild laughter has me shaking my head.

"Somehow, that's worse."

"Oh, come on, Jude, loosen up." He knocks my shoulder with his. "We won, you won. It's our night to celebrate! Besides, we never get to do this anymore."

I sigh, knowing he's right. There's been very little time for us to hang out lately, not to mention he's got a wife who needs him. Unlike me, the lone bachelor who no one seems to need.

I take another swig of my root beer, shoving the unproductive thought away.

Joel's right. I need to loosen up and learn to celebrate the wins I've worked hard for. Another sip of my drink has me feeling more relaxed when Joel leans close. "I can't believe you and Kenzie are headed to nationals. That's awesome."

"Yeah, it is. Feels like all the hard work is finally paying off."

He claps me on the shoulder. "It is, bro. It is."

"Mom called on my way to the game."

My brother's dark blond eyebrows, identical to mine, thread together with concern. "Oh? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she just wanted to congratulate me. She probably did the same for you, too, you just haven't seen it yet."

"I'll check it after I leave here and give her a call." After a pensive look, he asks, "How did she sound?"

I run a thumb down the condensation on my glass. "A little weak, not too bad. But you know how she is, always trying to hide how bad she feels."

Joel nods, setting down his glass. "Yeah. Stubborn to a fault."

"Like someone else I know," I mutter under my breath.

Joel rears back like he's offended. "Oh, come on. You know you're the stubborn one. Remember that time you refused to color the duck yellow in kindergarten?"

I roll my eyes. Not this story again.

"You got an F because you wouldn't listen to Mrs. H's instructions," he continues. "Or my advice." He presses his hand to the center of his chest. "After that, everyone always said I was the cute one, you were the stubborn one."

I let out an annoyed sigh. "You know that's a lie. I was the handsome one, you were the knockoff. I came first, remember?"

He holds up two fingers, incredulous. "Two minutes, Judy. Two flipping minutes."

I laugh off his frustration when Joel gets the attention of the player beside him. "Hey, Turner. Who's more handsome. Me or Jude?"

Turner's confused expression is comical as he looks us over. "Dude. You guys look exactly the same."

"What?" Joel huffs. "Jude's got long girly hair and lacks my impressive buffness. You really gonna say we're identical?"

"We are identical," I deadpan.

Turner holds up his hands in surrender.

"That's it." Joel stands. "I'm going to get Gwen. She'll settle this."

He stalks off with me calling after him, "Asking your wife isn't fair! She has to talk you up!"

I sit back, laughing, and watch as he crosses the tavern toward the group of women sitting together. Gwen's seated right next to the coach's daughter, Chantelle. I've always thought she was cute but never really had the chance to give her more than a cursory glance before now. In this more relaxed setting, though, something about her jet-black hair, pert upturned nose, and wide brown eyes has me looking a little too long.

And I know it's too long because she looks up and locks eyes with me.

I immediately glance around the tavern as if I wasn't just staring at her for absolutely no reason and focus back on my drink. Yet even after Joel comes back with Gwen in tow and we're teasing back and forth about who is better looking, my eyes keep drifting to the petite brunette seated in the corner booth with the rest of the team wives.