15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you crazy?” Enzo’s voice filled the living room as he stood in front of the couch where Artie was currently sitting.
Artie had been acting a bit odd—well, odder than normal—when I picked him up from figure skating practice today.
At first, I just figured he was still upset about the argument that happened in the car this morning.
And then we’d gotten home and Artie told us that Ciara was going to be his new figure skating coach.
I was sure Enzo was about to blow a gasket with how red his face had become and he was currently ten minutes into an argument that I was scared the entire building could hear.
“I’m not crazy,” Artie said calmly, fiddling with Lucky’s ears as the dope of a dog looked up at him with the equivalent of a doggy grin. Lucky, as always, was completely oblivious to any tension in the house and was just happy that someone was petting him. “But you look it, seeing as you’re the one currently shouting at me.”
Enzo wheeled back around to look at me. “Did you know about this?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t, but I also don’t think it’s a bad idea. If anyone can work with him it would be her.”
“What part of her do you think would be a good teacher? She’s liable to push him until he falls and gets a concussion,” Enzo snapped, then seeing that he wasn’t getting the response he wanted, he growled and turned to stomp toward the door.
“Enzo, where are you going?” Artie asked, his voice starting to shift from an even-keel calm to something more uncertain. Enzo never left an argument midway.
I followed him, getting ready to snag him by the collar and drag him back into the living room so that we could talk everything out, but Enzo was already yanking the door open and crossing the hallway.
It wasn’t until he was lifting a fist and banging on the door that I realized what his actual intention had been.
“Enzo what are you—” I began, but the door opening cut me off.
Ciara was standing in the doorway, squinting sleepily out at us as if she’d just rolled out of bed.
“Why’re you banging on my door?” she slurred groggily, shifting from one bare foot to the other.
Enzo and I just stared at her wordlessly.
She was wearing a matching thin blue tank top and shorts, one hand rubbing her belly just underneath the hem of her shirt as she waited for us to answer and the other brushing her wild curls out of her face.
Then there was her scent. I’d always known that our scents swelled when we were asleep, but to smell the spicy cinnamon coming off of her in waves was an altogether mouth-watering experience.
“Hello? Earth to alphas,” Ciara said, more awake now as she snapped her fingers in front of Enzo’s face.
Enzo blinked once, the tops of his cheeks flushing as he remembered why he’d come across the hall in the first place. “Come with me.”
He reached out and grabbed Ciara’s wrist.
“Hey!” she squawked, trying to tug her arm out of his grasp.
“Enzo!” I barked, surprised at his manhandling of her. He was never one to be overly aggressive, so this was completely out of character for him.
Enzo ignored both of us and dragged Ciara across the hall and into our apartment, slamming the door shut behind us as he pulled her into the middle of the living room.
“Did you tell Artie that you would coach him?” Enzo asked as Ciara finally managed to yank her arm from his.
Ciara glanced between the three of us, her brown eyes seeming to take in the scene a lot faster than the average person would—but then again Ciara had always been incredibly observant of her surroundings.
“I did,” Ciara said, all vestiges of drowsiness gone from her face now. “He was having trouble with Eli being an ass, so I figured I’d offer.”
Enzo scoffed, still looking pissed. “Have you ever coached anyone before?”
She nodded, turning so that she was facing him completely. “I used to teach figure skating classes during the off-season when we lived in Minnesota and I do work with the younger figure skaters once a month.”
“Artie is not a child figure skater. He’s an Olympian. I don’t like it,” Enzo muttered as it seemed he was running out of excuses to be angry with her.
“You don’t have to like it,” Artie said, finally speaking up for the first time since Enzo had unceremoniously dragged Ciara into our apartment. “It’s my life and my career, Enz.”
Enzo’s face pinched with pain, and truth be told, I understood where he was coming from. I was just as terrified about Artie falling and hitting his head and potentially exacerbating the pressure on the nerves behind his eyes as Enzo was.
“He is still fully capable of skating, Enzo, even if his eyes don’t work his feet still do.” Ciara’s voice changed from defensive to something softer. It was almost as if she was trying to comfort the man who had been nothing but an asshole to her since we moved across the way from each other.
Enzo’s shoulders stiffened at it too, telling me he’d heard the same shift in her tone.
“Do you actually know what will happen if he hits his head? Or anything about his type of vision loss really?” he asked, holding a hand up to stop Artie before he could minimize it like he always did.
“No, not really,” Ciara admitted, glancing over at Artie with a frown. “But that still doesn’t change what he wants to do, does it?”
Enzo huffed a sardonic laugh. “It does though. If he were to hit his head because he falls while jumping it could mean accelerated loss of sight or even complete blindness if the swelling is bad enough. Do you really want to be responsible for that if he falls?”
“Enzo, I’m not going to fall,” Artie argued, standing and displacing the golden retriever in his lap entirely. “I am careful, just as careful as I was leading up to the Olympics.”
He put a hand on Enzo’s shoulder and I watched the other alpha melt under our omega’s touch. Undoubtedly, Artie was also soothing him through the metaphysical bond the three of us shared, though it was blocked on my end.
“I have nightmares about it, Art. Of you falling and cracking your head open or any other manner of injury you can get while skating because you can’t see everything clearly.”
And thus, like always, the two were at an impasse again.
So when Ciara finally spoke, I think it surprised us all.
“So what if there aren’t any jumps?” she asked, her lips pursing with thought.
Every head in the room turned to look at her—even the dogs.
I frowned at her, confused about her question. “How would he compete as a figure skater without jumps?”
“Paired ice dancing. There are some lifts and some easy jumps—hops really,” Ciara explained as if it were the simplest solution in the world.
Artie peered around Enzo’s broad frame to squint at her. “You make it sound easy but where am I supposed to find a female skating partner that doesn’t mind that I’m about to be as blind as a bat in the next year or two?”
There was a pause and then: “What if I was your figure skating partner?”
Artie’s frown deepened and he crossed the room to where she was standing. They were the same height and stood nose-to-nose as Artie seemed to be searching her face, even as blurry as his vision was, for any indication that she was joking.
“You can’t be my partner. You’re a singles figure skater,” he said, writing her suggestion off completely as he dragged a hand through his blonde hair.
“Why not? I could pair skate,” Ciara asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Looking over their heads at Enzo, instead of an angry expression he looked almost thoughtful as he watched the exchange in front of him.
“No.” Artie threw his hands up with frustration. “You can’t. It’ll wreck the career you’ve been building for years.”
“Artie, babe,” Enzo said softly, gently pulling on the omega’s wrist until Artie turned to face him. “Maybe just hear her out.”
Enzo and Ciara locked eyes and something I couldn’t quite pick up passed between them.
In spite of myself, a thread of nasty envy coiled deep in my belly as Enzo seemed to deflate like a puppy dog before my very eyes. Where had the arsehole hothead from a couple of minutes ago gone?
Artie’s shoulders sank in surrender. “You don’t even know me. Why would you do something like this for me?”
Brown eyes flashed over to me, and for once, Ciara’s walls were completely down. The emotions in them were a mixture of regret, guilt, and something that I hadn’t seen in four years… was that genuine affection?
Something she’d never admit out loud with her own lips.
Then her expression shuttered completely and she returned her attention to Artie again. “Think of it as an atonement of sorts.”
Her lips curled upward and she gave Artie a gentle shove. “Besides, I’ve already gotten a gold medal in my singles. Maybe I’m just narcissistic enough to try for another one with ice dancing instead.”
I knew her words were a complete lie. Ciara liked to present herself as someone tough that cared about few people. But there had always been a barely concealed softness to her that I’d noticed right away when I first met her.
Enzo and Artie seemed to be slowly realizing it too as they spoke about practices and how they were going to work out how to even begin learning how to pair dance.
After all was said and done, I followed Ciara back out into the hallway without thinking.
“Ciara,” I called her name softly.
She turned to look over her shoulder at me, the ghost of a smile on her lips before it was gone again.
“Thank you for doing that—for Artie—I mean,” I said as I shut the apartment door behind me.
Ciara nibbled on her lower lip. “I didn’t do it just for Artie, you know.”
“I know.” I nodded looking down at my feet and realized that she wasn’t wearing any shoes. “I’m also sorry that Enzo dragged you out like this. He can be a real arse sometimes.”
This time Ciara’s grin was wide. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who is worse at acting first and thinking later than I am.”
“I’d cheers to that,” I said with a snort, my eyes finding her dusky pink lips again.
It was almost impossible not to think about kissing her when we were alone like this. Standing in the bare apartment hallway reminded me of all the times we’d stumbled back to the hotel from drinking with the rest of the athletes and Ciara dragged me into her room, into her space, and had her way with me.
Without thinking I stepped forward until her nose nearly brushed into my shirt and leaned down.
Ciara’s eyes widened as her chin tilted up, her lashes fluttering as we stared each other down.
I wanted to kiss her.
Gods, I wanted to kiss her.
“Leith?” her whisper was as quiet as a breath, bringing me back down to Earth again.
“I’m sorry.” I pressed my forehead into hers.
I wasn’t sure what exactly I was sorry for, but I couldn’t restart anything with her again until I was sure where my pack stood… and where she did too.
She may have been offering to work with Artie, but that didn’t mean her outlook on dating had changed, let alone her outlook on permanent commitment.
Ciara searched my face, her mouth opening slightly as if she were about to say something. Then she sighed and reached behind her in order to open the door to her apartment.
“Good night, Leith,” she said and then stepped inside, leaving me in the hallway with the scent of cinnamon still dancing on my tongue.