Chapter 7
~Riley~
Hudson’s skates slice the ice, the sharp scrape echoing in the cold rink as he skids to a stop beside me. He brings a wave of cool air with him that wraps around me as he leans back against the board, smiling at me with a casual ease that makes my stomach flutter unexpectedly.
“So, I hear you’re going shopping for new sheets on Friday. Mind if I tag along?”
I nearly choke on thin air. “Who told you that?”
Although my rental house here in Edmonton came fully furnished, I don’t like the sheets on the bed. My expensive ones from back home in California got thrown in the trash before I left. Washing them wasn’t going to cut it. I didn’t want anything that Trevor touched ever touching my body again.
Therefore, I need new sheets, but Hudson has no reason to know anything about it.
“Hannah mentioned it,” he explains, as if it’s a perfectly normal thing for them to talk about. “I told her I managed to rip a hole through mine, and she said you were going to get some too. I have no idea what I’m looking for, so I was wondering if you’d help a clueless guy out.”
“You… ripped a hole in your sheets?” My brows knit together as I glance over at him. “How?”
His mischievous grin sends prickles dancing across my skin. “Do you really want to know?”
Yes, a little part of my brain whispers.
“Probably not,” I say out loud, and he laughs.
“So, what do you say? Will you help me out? I have the day off on Friday too, so I’m free whenever you want to go.”
That’s convenient, but I’m still not sure about the whole idea. In my experience, taking a man shopping has never been much fun. “Trevor hated shopping.”
Hudson shrugs. “Good thing I’m not him, then.”
Despite his casual posture, there’s an edge to his reply that I can’t quite decipher.
“I’m going to West Edmonton Mall,” I tell him next. “I’ve never been before, and I might be there for a while.”
The largest mall in the world when it was built, I’ve heard all about West Ed from the girls in the change room this week.
Apparently, there’s an amusement park and a huge water park inside the mall, along with hundreds of stores.
It sounds like a great place to take my mind off things, and I was planning to spend most of my day off there.
If Hudson’s hoping for a quick in-and-out shopping trip, he’s better off going somewhere else.
However, he simply nods, his grin once again tugging at his lips.
“Sounds great. I’ll pick you up and save you the hassle of driving.
” His eyes hold mine for just a beat longer than necessary, and that strange, fluttering feeling hits my stomach again.
I’m not sure what it means, and I’m not sure I’m ready to try to figure it out.
Since I’ve run out of excuses, I promise to text him my address, and the next thing I know, we’re spending our day off together.
I guess that’s something childhood friends do?
I appreciate Hudson and Hannah’s easy acceptance of me into their circle even more when I head into the change room at the end of the day right as a group of women are giggling over a picture on Natasha Grovitz’s phone.
The ice dancer is part of the group flying out tomorrow to attend the Cup of China competition, along with Lewis and Hannah, and apparently, skating isn’t the only thing on her mind.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, ready for something lighthearted after a long, tiring day. I don’t know these women very well yet, but they’ve all seemed nice enough so far and Hudson didn’t warn me to stay away from Natasha.
With a smile, she turns the phone around to show me a picture of a shirtless man in a sauna. I don’t recognize him, but he’s good-looking. Nothing about the photo looks particularly funny to me, however, so I’m not sure why they’re laughing.
“Who is that?”
“Alexei Razin,” she replies breezily.
That name, I know. “The Olympic champion from like twenty years ago?”
“That’s him,” she confirms. “He’s coaching the Russian dance champions this year and he and his wife just broke up.”
I’m still lost, but Bailey Parker, a pairs skater, speaks up from beside her to add some context. “Tash is into older men.”
“Much older men,” adds Natalie, the dancer from the brother-and-sister team, with a giggle.
“When they look like this, you bet I am,” Natasha agrees with a wicked grin. “Hopefully, before the weekend’s over, he’ll be into me too.”
My cheeks flush as they all giggle again. “Is that allowed? I mean, since he’s a coach?”
“He’s not my coach.”
“Not that it would stop you if he were,” Bailey teases, and from the way they all laugh, I suspect it’s not entirely a joke.
They all seem so comfortable with this conversation and each other that I feel distinctly out of place.
“Not your type?” Natasha asks me, probably noticing that I’m not laughing along with them.
Put on the spot, I stammer out an answer, my smile stiff. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’d have to know what he’s like first, I guess. If we have anything in common.”
“I’m only planning to fuck him, not marry him,” she exclaims, and they all share one more laugh before starting to pack up for the day, probably thinking that I’m a complete prude even if they don’t say it out loud.
I guess in some ways, I am. I’ve never had a one-night stand, or any kind of casual sex. Trevor was only my second boyfriend and the second man I’d ever slept with. The idea of getting that intimate with someone else is a little scary, and I can’t imagine doing it with someone I don’t even know.
As if my train of thought conjured him, my phone buzzes with another text from Trevor as I pull it out of my locker.
Still distracted by the conversation that just happened, my thumb slips as I swipe to silence it, and instead of ignoring the text, I accidentally open it instead.
My fingers freeze over the screen, my pulse spiking as my eyes take in the words before I can stop myself.
Luke just told me you’re at Riverbend? What the fuck, Riley? Did you seriously leave the country without even talking to me?
Heat crawls up my neck, the words blurring together in a haze of fury. What right does he have to be mad at me?
He’ll see that I’ve read the text now, so I fire off a reply before I can think better of it, not bothering to read any of the other hundred messages he’s sent.
I don’t remember you asking for my permission before fucking Evelyn.
Normally, I wouldn’t use that word, but after hearing Natasha say it to describe her weekend goal, it seems appropriate. ‘Sleeping together’ sounds too polite. They fucked each other, and fucked me over in the process.
He replies immediately, but I don’t bother to read it, sliding the phone back into my pocket and packing up to head home instead. I might have a ways to go to feel totally at home at Riverbend, but it’s still better than the alternative. If nothing else, Trevor’s text reminded me of that.