16. Delaney
16
Delaney
The air inside the arena is cool, but I can still feel the Texas heat seeping through the walls, the oppressive humidity trying to cling to me despite the AC. I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen up before the on-ice warm-up. My mind wanders to last night's conversation with Breck, his earnest words echoing in my head.
"I’m not going anywhere."
I shake my head, forcing the memory away. Focus, Delaney. You can't afford distractions right now. Or ever.
But as I stretch, touching my toes and feeling the burn in my hamstrings, I can't help but replay his voice in my mind. It's terrifying how quickly he's gotten under my skin. Too much, too fast. And yet...
I straighten up, taking a deep breath of the cool-but-humid air. My heart races, and I'm not sure if it's from the upcoming competition or thoughts of Breck. Maybe both.
"Well, well. If it isn't America's ice princess herself."
I freeze, recognizing that cocky drawl immediately. Rafe. Of course, he'd show up now.
Turning slowly, I meet his gaze, forcing my face into a neutral expression. "Rafe. Shouldn't you be warming up?"
He smirks, the smugness practically radiating off of him. "Oh, I was, but I thought I'd stop by to see if you're still capable of skating after all those stumbles this last season. Wouldn’t want you to trip over your own ego out there."
I bite back the urge to respond with something sharp. He knows exactly what buttons to push—he had years to learn them firsthand after all. But I won't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
"Thanks for your concern," I say flatly. "I'm fine."
Rafe chuckles, his gaze flicking over me like I'm some kind of amusement. "Yeah, we'll see about that. Hope you don’t get too dizzy out there, princess." He smirks, running a hand through his tightly coiled curls. "Just wanted to wish you luck. You'll need it, considering how shaky your skating's been looking lately."
I feel my jaw tighten, but I don’t let him see how much it stings. I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattle.
As if on cue, Dakota approaches, her long legs eating up the distance between us. Rafe's entire attitude shifts. He grins like a Cheshire cat.
"Baby!" Rafe calls out, his entire demeanor changing. He pulls Dakota into his arms, dipping her dramatically before planting a passionate kiss on her lips.
I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don’t fall out of my head. Real subtle, Rafe. Real subtle.
As they continue their over-the-top display of affection, I turn away, focusing on my stretches again. My irritation builds with each passing second. Who does he think he's fooling?
"Good luck out there, Del," Dakota calls out sweetly as they finally break apart. "May the best skater win."
The smugness in her tone doesn’t go unnoticed, but I bite my tongue. I don't have time for their games. As they saunter off, arm in arm, I let out a slow breath, trying to center myself. "Thanks. You too."
As they saunter away, arm in arm, I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. I won't let Rafe's mind games throw me off. I've worked too hard for this.
But as I head back inside, I can't shake the nagging doubt that's crept in. What if Rafe's right? What if I'm not ready?
Stop it, Del. You've got this.
The chill of the ice bites into my skin as I glide onto the rink, my blades carving delicate patterns beneath me. Rafe's words echo in my mind, an unwelcome intrusion.
I grit my teeth, pushing myself into a series of warm-up jumps. Each landing sends a jolt through my body, but I can't shake the unease settling in my chest. Across the ice, Rafe and Dakota move in perfect sync, their bodies a fluid extension of each other. It's infuriating how effortless they make it look.
"You good?" Lachlan's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. His green eyes search my face, concern etched in the furrow of his brow.
I force a smile. "Peachy."
He doesn't buy it for a second. "Rafe's an ass. Don't let him get in your head."
"Easier said than done," I mutter, executing a tight spin. The world blurs around me, but I can still feel Rafe's smug gaze boring into my back.
As we run through our elements, I can't help but notice how seamlessly Dakota executes her jumps, how gracefully she transitions between moves. The doubt creeps in again, insidious and persistent.
"Next up, Quinn and Vale!"
My heart thunders in my chest as Lachlan and I take our starting positions. The opening notes of our music fill the arena, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just me, Lachlan, and the ice.
We start strong, our movements fluid and synchronized. The crowd's energy buoys us, and I feel a surge of confidence as we nail our first set of jumps. This is what I was born to do.
But then, as I set up for the triple axel, Rafe's words slither back into my mind. My timing is off by a fraction of a second, and I know it the moment my blade leaves the ice. The world tilts, and I fight to regain control, barely managing to land on one foot.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I push through, forcing a smile as Lachlan and I transition into our next element. But inside, I'm seething. How could I let that manipulative piece of shit get to me like that?
"You've got this, Del," Lachlan murmurs as he lifts me into a complicated spin. "Shake it off."
I nod, determination flooding through me. One mistake doesn't define me. I'll be damned if I let Rafe Blackwood ruin this for me.
As we move into our final sequence, I pour every ounce of frustration and anger into my performance. My movements become sharper, more precise. I may have stumbled, but I'll finish this program with all the grace and fire I possess.
When the music fades and we strike our final pose, the crowd erupts. Lachlan pulls me into a tight hug, his pride evident in the strength of his embrace.
"That's my girl," he whispers. "You fought through it."
I manage a weak smile, but inside, I'm a storm of emotions. Relief, disappointment, and lingering anger swirl together, threatening to overwhelm me.
As we skate off the ice, I catch sight of Rafe and Dakota. Rafe's smirk makes my blood boil. I've never wanted to wipe that smug look off his face more than I do right now.
But I won't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I hold my head high, channeling every ounce of composure I can muster. I may have stumbled, but I'm far from beaten.
The kiss and cry feels more like a cage than a sanctuary. I sit rigidly, my jaw clenched so tight I might crack a tooth. Lachlan's hand rests on my shoulder, a silent show of support, but I barely register it. My mind's on a loop, replaying that damned jump over and over.
"Del," Lachlan murmurs, "breathe."
I inhale sharply, realizing I'd been holding my breath. The screen in front of us flickers to life, and I feel my stomach drop.
Our score appears, lower than I'd dared to fear. The frustration that's been simmering explodes into full-blown anger. I stand abruptly, nearly knocking over the ridiculous bouquet of flowers they always shove at us.
"Fuck," I mutter, low enough that only Lachlan can hear.
He stands too, wrapping an arm around my waist. "We'll make it up in the free skate," he says, but I can hear the strain in his voice.
As we exit, Natalie appears, her face a mask of carefully cultivated neutrality. She hands me my phone without a word, and I nearly hurl it across the room. But then it buzzes, Breck's name flashing on the screen.
My finger hovers over the message. Do I really want to see what he has to say? But curiosity wins out, and I open it.
Stop beating yourself up. It's one mistake. You've got this.
I blink, surprised by the lump forming in my throat. I can't believe it. My phone buzzes again, and I stare at the screen in disbelief. Breck's watching. He's actually watching me skate. My heart does a little flip, equal parts thrilled and terrified.
You're still the most badass skater I've ever seen. And the sexiest.
A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. Leave it to Breck to throw in a flirty comment at a time like this. It's so... him. And somehow, it helps ground me, reminding me there's more to life than one disappointing skate.
Call me. I don't care if it's for 5 seconds or 5 hours. I just need to hear your voice.
Before I can overthink it, I hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear. I duck into a quiet corner, listening as it rings once before he picks up.
"Hey, superstar," Breck's warm voice washes over me, and suddenly I'm fighting back tears.
"I messed up," I choke out, the disappointment flooding back. "I stumbled on that stupid triple axel. How could I—"
"Del, stop," he interrupts, his tone gentle but firm. "You're allowed to stumble. You're human, not a machine."
I sniff, wiping at my eyes. "But—"
"It's one program," Breck says, and I can almost picture him running a hand through that ridiculous mullet of his. "You've got the free skate to crush it. And you will."
"How can you be so sure?" I whisper, hating how small my voice sounds.
There's a pause, and when Breck speaks again, I can hear the smile in his voice. "Because you're Delaney fucking Quinn. And I've seen what you can do on that ice. You don't just skate, Del—you fly."
His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, and I feel my breathing start to even out. "Thanks, Breck," I murmur, surprised by how much I mean it.
"Anytime, baby," he replies, his voice dropping to that low, husky tone that never fails to make my stomach flutter.
Some other skaters step into the room I’m in, so I step out. I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I step into the hallway. The confidence Breck's words instilled in me evaporates like mist when I spot them. Rafe and Dakota, the picture-perfect couple, leaning against the wall with matching smirks.
"Well, if it isn't the ice princess herself," Rafe drawls, his arm draped possessively around Dakota's shoulders.
I try to brush past them, but Dakota's sugary-sweet voice stops me. "That was quite a performance out there, Del. Really... memorable."
My jaw clenches. I can feel the familiar walls slamming up around my heart, brick by brick. This is why I don't let people in. This is why I—
I grip my phone tighter, Breck's words echoing in my mind. But doubt creeps in, cold and insidious. What am I doing? Getting close to someone, opening myself up to this kind of pain again?
“Baby?”
As I walk away, I can hear them whispering, feel their eyes on my back. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Any of it. The whatever-we-are, the Olympics. It's too much, too fast, too...
"Del?" Breck's voice comes through, warm and concerned. "You okay?"
I hesitate, the words stuck in my throat. "I don't know if I can do this, Breck. Us. The Olympics. It's all..."
"Hey," he interrupts, his tone impossibly gentle. "You don't just skate across the ice, Del—you carve your name into it. And you've done the same thing to me. I don't think I could forget you even if I wanted to."
I swallow hard, my heart racing. Breck's words are like a lifeline, but the fear still clings to me. "I don't know, Breck. It's just—"
"Okay, let me try this another way," he says, his voice dropping low and husky. "Remember that night in my kitchen? How you felt pressed up against the counter?"
Heat floods my cheeks. God, do I remember. Every touch, every kiss, every—
"I can't stop thinking about it," Breck continues, his words sending shivers down my spine. "How wet you were for me, how perfectly you fit around my cock. I've been jerking off to the memory every chance I get, but it's not the same. I need you, Del. I can't wait to feel that pretty pink pussy milking me dry when you get back."
My breath catches in my throat. I glance around, making sure no one can overhear. Rafe and Dakota are still nearby, but they can't hear Breck's filthy promises.
"Breck," I whisper, equal parts scandalized and aroused. "I'm in public."
He chuckles, low and dirty. "Are you gonna let me fuck some sense into you when you get back, Del?"
I bite my lip, trying to stifle a moan. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rafe watching me, his expression darkening with frustration. Good. Let him see that his mind games aren't working.
"Del?" Breck's voice pulls me back. "You miss my cock, baby?"
"Yes," I breathe, barely audible. Then, stronger, "Yes. I miss you."
"Good. That's good," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "You've got this, Del. Tell me you know that."
I take a deep breath, feeling the tension start to leave my body. "I know that."
"Good girl," Breck purrs, and warmth blooms in my chest.