Pushing the Edge (Riverbend Club #1)

Prologue

~Riley~

The opening strains of High Hopes blare out of my phone speakers, pulling me out of sleep with a jolt of adrenaline.

Everyone needs a competition day anthem, and this one is mine.

Months of gruelling training, aching muscles, and mental fatigue lead to that moment when I step onto the ice, but when the crowd fills the arena, when the music swells and all eyes focus on me, it all feels worth it.

All the pain, sweat and tears along with every ounce of energy I have to give are poured into one moment where I can prove my worth.

Yeah, competition days are the best.

When they go well, at least.

I won’t let myself think about the alternative.

My hand finds my phone to turn the alarm off, and I roll over to give Trevor an apologetic smile for waking him up so early. However, my smile falters when I take in the empty space beside me, the blankets unrumpled and the pillow still fluffed.

“Trevor?” I call softly, my voice thick with sleep.

Only the hum of the air conditioning answers me, and the cool air bites against my skin as I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Trevor?” I call again.

Still no answer.

Across the hotel room, the bathroom door stands wide open, but there’s no sign of him in there either other than the usual disarray of his toiletries strewn across the counter.

His shaving kit sits next to the half-empty bottle of cologne I bought him last Christmas, and my brow furrows in confusion.

This is strange. Last night, he went out to celebrate his second-place finish in the men’s singles competition while I stayed in to get some rest for my own performance today.

I would have preferred him to stay with me, but he promised to come back to the room and join me when he finished.

Technically, we each have our own rooms, but Trevor and I have been dating for two years.

As long as we’re discreet, people pretend not to notice if we walk out of the same hotel room in the morning.

Standing in the middle of the empty room, I run through the possibilities in my head. Maybe he stayed out later than expected or drank more than he planned. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb my sleep before I skated.

I guess that would be thoughtful, and he can be thoughtful.

Maybe he sent a message? I didn’t notice one when I turned off my phone alarm, but I didn’t check closely either.

After turning the light on, I retrieve my phone and scroll through my messages, but there’s nothing new from him.

Nothing from my mother either, I notice.

Sometimes, she’ll send me a ‘good luck’ message before a competition, but usually only the big ones.

Today’s Grand Prix event must have fallen off her radar.

Disappointment pricks my heart, but it’s only one of dozens of similar stings over the years. I don’t know why it bothers me anymore. It shouldn’t, since I know better than to expect anything from her. I stopped looking for her in the stands years ago.

Usually, having Trevor there instead makes up for it, but this morning, I’m completely on my own.

“This is no time to feel sorry for yourself,” I remind myself out loud. “Go show them all what they’re missing.”

Forcing a determined spring back into my step, I slip on my workout clothes and sweep my long hair into a high ponytail.

First stop: the hotel gym, where the treadmill hums steadily beneath my feet as I power through my workout.

Staring straight ahead, I visualize the perfect skate, playing it over and over in my mind.

Flawless landings and perfect spins, each movement in perfect harmony with the music.

My body moves with purpose, the rhythm of the treadmill matching the one in my mind.

By the time I finish, sweat dampens the back of my neck, but I feel strong.

Better than that, I feel ready. It’s the first Grand Prix event of the year, the perfect chance to show everyone how hard I’ve been working in the off-season.

This is my year to level up and show the whole world that it’s time to pay attention to Riley Walters.

A shower is the next item on the list, but as I head back to my room, my mind flashes to yesterday morning and showering with Trevor before the short program.

He’s always so good at helping me unwind, distracting me with laughter before the nerves can get to me.

Maybe he’ll do the same this morning if I join him in his room?

I skip down the hallway, the smile on my face growing as the idea takes hold.

No one’s around, so I can slip into his room without anyone noticing.

I’ve got his extra keycard, just like he has mine, and the red light on the handle turns green as I press the card against it.

The cool darkness of the room envelops me as I step inside and let the door close behind me.

With the curtains still drawn, I can’t see much, but I can smell Trevor’s cologne mixed with the scent of the hotel soap.Keeping one hand on the wall, I feel my way forward in the dark.

Tripping and injuring myself before my big moment on the ice is definitely not on the list for today.

My knee brushes the corner of the bed, and my heart beats a little faster with anticipation.

Carefully, I slide beneath the covers, ready to give him the best wake-up call he’s ever had.

But as my hand makes contact with warm skin, something doesn’t feel right.

My fingers trace what should be his waist, but instead of the familiar, muscular contours I know so well, my hand moves across soft, feminine skin, and my heart stutters in my chest.

What?

Confusion sweeps over me, fast and sharp, and my heart pounds in my ears as I leap backward out of the bed.

Desperate for some clarity, I fumble for the light switch on the bedside lamp. It flickers on, casting a harsh white light over the scene in front of me, and my gaze locks onto the bed.

Trevor’s head lifts slowly, eyes still blurry from sleep, but it’s not him I’m staring at.

It’s the woman next to him.

Evelyn.

My best friend.

Naked.

In Trevor’s bed.

My throat tightens until I can't breathe.

The blanket partially covers her face, but even from this angle, I know it's her. Her perfume hits me a second later, the one I used to wear until she decided it was her ‘signature scent’ and told me I needed to find another one.

I take another step back, the pain in my chest so sudden and raw, each breath burns. The room feels like it's spinning, the edges of everything blurring.

“Evelyn?” I croak, the word barely making it out of my mouth.

At the sound of my voice, Trevor’s eyes snap open fully, and he jolts up, panic flashing across his face.

“Riley.”

My name sounds flat and wrong coming out of his mouth.

"Please..."

He doesn’t finish, his hand reaching out as if to explain, to somehow make things better, but there are no words that could do that and he seems to realize it too.

I shake my head, chest tightening even further until I feel like I’m suffocating. Every inch of my body rebels against the reality I’m seeing, hoping it’s a nightmare I’ll wake up from. Any moment, my alarm will go off for real, and I’ll wake up in bed with Trevor beside me, where he should be.

As I stumble backwards, Evelyn finally lifts her head. She looks at Trevor first, at his face etched in misery, before she turns her to me with the wide-eyed, innocent look the judges love so much.

Innocent.

What a joke. It’s so ridiculous, I should laugh. In fact, I try to push out a short, bitter chuckle, but all I can do is choke on the ache in my throat.

The room’s light suddenly feels too bright. My stomach twists painfully, but I can’t look away.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor whispers.

Sorry? The word tastes like bitter poison, the sting of it cutting deeper than I ever expected, but Evelyn doesn’t even flinch. She just sits there, eyes wide and unblinking, her face a mask of confusion, or maybe just indifference.

I’m not sure which is worse.

Finally, my body responds to my desperate need for air and space, and I bolt, ignoring Trevor as he calls my name. The hallway walls seem to close in around me, and by the time I reach my room, I’m gasping for air. The door slams behind me as I lock it and drop to the floor, trembling.

My palms press against my eyes, but even with them closed, I still see them there. Together. Naked.

Fury and frustration and sadness boil over, my tears hot and angry as they rush down my cheeks. Even if I wanted to stop them, I couldn’t.

Not when the one person I thought I could depend on has just completely betrayed me.

Five hours later, I’ve pulled myself together enough to go through the motions. My body is on the ice, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.

In front of thousands of fans and a television audience, my leg slips out from beneath me on my triple flip and I go down hard. My footwork is sloppy and my spin underrotated.

13th place, the scoreboard says, well below the top ten I had been hoping for.

“Looks like we need to make some changes,” my coach says as we sit in the kiss ‘n’ cry, his voice grim.

With my jaw clenched but my eyes dry, I nod. Blessed numbness has taken the place of pain, at least for now.

My mom always said the only person you can rely on in life is yourself, and for the first time, I think I truly understand.

My coach has it right. Change is exactly what I need.