Chapter 23
“And you’re sure you don’t mind?” I ask Brayden as I straighten my costume for tonight’s gala.
“Mind? No. Wish you’d said something a little bit sooner? Yeah.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “No more secrets, I promise. You really think people aren’t going to melt down about this?”
“Are you kidding? Of course they are. People love a love triangle. Just, you know, maybe stay out of your mentions for a few days.”
I snort. My social apps have been a mess for weeks now. I’m a pro at ignoring them.
“Okay, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. I actually think it’s really sweet and that’s what I’ll tell any reporters that ask about it. If Nike doesn’t give a shit, they won’t either.”
“You really are my favorite partner.”
“Go,” Brayden says, “before I change my mind.” He’s laughing, but there’s a tension around his mouth that says maybe he’s pretending a little.
I kind of want to give him a hug and press a kiss to his cheek, but I think maybe that would just make it worse, so I send him a tight smile.
I leave the locker room and head toward the ice, and that’s where I meet Freddie, who is racing down the tunnel toward me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breathless. “Georgia said you had an emergency and you needed me here right away.”
Shaking my head, I laugh, taking his hand and squeezing. “Not that kind of emergency. Breathe.”
He takes a deep breath and then shakes his head. “What’s going on?”
I hold out a bag. “Your skates are in here and the costume you were supposed to wear for the rhythm dance. It’s not exactly right, but it’s close.”
“Adriana, what are you talking about?”
“You and me, we’re going to skate ‘Time of My Life’ in the gala. In about ten minutes, so go get changed,” I say, nodding toward the door to the men’s room.
“You’re crazy! How?”
“You missed your first World Championships, so I thought you should get to skate at least once, even if it doesn’t count.
And I’ll probably regret this soon enough when you and Riley hit the ice again when she gets back, but you should get to know what it feels like out there in front of a packed house. It’s…beyond description.”
“You,” he says, shaking his head, a sweet kind of awe washing over his face. “You are beyond everything.”
“I know! Now go get changed.”
He’s back a few minutes later.
“We’re cutting the big lift, right?” he asks, running a hand over the back of his neck. He’s nervous. It’s adorable.
“Uh, yeah, but we can probably do the others still, like the other night.”
We walk together hand in hand toward the ice.
“Mesdames et Messieurs, nous avons une surprise pour vous ce soir. Malheureusement, l’une de nos équipes, Freddie O’Connell et Riley Monroe, n’a pas pu concourir cette semaine après une blessure à Miss Monroe.
” The spotlight in the arena shines on Riley, who waves to the crowd while they cheer.
“Adriana Russo, leur bonne amie, patinera Freddie en hommage à leur coéquipier blessé. Veuillez accueillir Adriana Russo et Freddie O’Connell. ”
The lights go down as we skate out to a spotlight at the center and wait, only feet apart. And then the music starts, and the crowd makes the same delighted sound as the people did in front of the Eiffel Tower. An awed, collective gasp of excitement.
I smile as he crooks his finger at me, beckoning me toward him as he closes in himself, before he slings an arm around my waist and dips me low as his leg slides between mine.
Then we spin together and I stand, my back to his front as my arm reaches up and around his neck, and he trails his hand down my arm, along the line of my body, before our hands meet and grip firmly and he spins me out into the dance.
The crowd is clapping along with every beat of the music.
And then I barely hear them and it’s like we’re back at that outdoor rink a few blocks away from the Eiffel Tower and we’re skating for no one but ourselves, somehow even able to twizzle over the ice in perfect sync like we did two years ago, and then the music slows and it fades to a close and the crowd applauds for us.
We join our hands together and take a bow, one last time.
“Thank you,” Freddie says as we skate off the ice, hands still entwined. “Thank you so much.”
“I love you,” I say simply, and that makes him stop. Instead of leading me off the ice, he’s spinning me toward him and kissing me for the entire arena to see, and the crowd goes from polite applause to full-out shrieking.
When he pulls away, he’s smiling. “If this is the last time we skate together, I wanted to make sure it was memorable.”
Biting my lip, I shake my head. “Oh, I am so going to kick your ass at the Olympics.”
“Bring it on.”