Chapter 15
~Riley~
I don’t have a ton of fans. There are some die-hard followers of the sport who know me and track my progress, and an even smaller group of core supporters shows up to cheer for me at events in the United States.
I appreciate them more than I can ever say, but thousands of miles from home in the chilly Finnish capital, I’m not expecting anyone to react when I step onto the ice, especially not for a practice.
Therefore, the shout of “You rock, Riley!” takes me completely by surprise.
Glancing up into the stands, I see Hudson and a small group of other skaters from the Riverbend Club, enthusiastically waving an American flag for me, together with a sign that says “Riley Rocks” with the Bon Jovi logo in honour of my free skate music.
I have no doubt that Hudson is responsible for the sign, but that leaves me with a ton of other questions.
When the hell did he make it? How did he get it on the plane without me noticing?
And won’t anyone think it’s odd that one of Canada’s top figure skaters is proudly holding up the flag for the USA?
As usual when it comes to Hudson, I can only shake my head and smile, my chest feeling both warmer and lighter as I go into my warm-up.
“You’re looking great out there,” my new coach praises me when I head to the boards for a drink of water and a quick consultation before my music comes on for a run-through of my program. “Nice and relaxed.”
“I feel relaxed,” I agree. After my disastrous free skate at Skate America, the day I found Trevor and Evelyn in bed together, I thought I would be nervous about being in front of a crowd again.
But every time I look up and see Hudson’s sign, all the tension leaves my body, and I just want to skate.
“Good. Let’s hold onto that feeling for tomorrow, and you’ll do great.”
After my practice, I have time to return to the hotel for a quick lunch before the men’s short program starts.
A twinge of guilt hits me that I didn’t think of making a sign for Hudson, but the Riverbend group invites me to sit with them to cheer him on, and I’m grateful for how quickly they’ve adopted me as one of their own.
When one of them hands me one end of a large Canadian flag, I wave it without hesitation when Hudson takes the ice.
Trevor never looked for me from the ice.
He needed to concentrate at the beginning of his program, keeping his focus inward, but I can tell right away that Hudson is different.
He seems to draw his energy from the crowd, circling the ice and waving up at people while the previous skater receives their mark.
When he spots our group cheering for him, a wide grin spreads across his face, and for a moment, it feels like his eyes linger on me in particular.
He points in our direction and holds up four fingers, promising us a quad like Babe Ruth calling his shot.
“He’s such an arrogant ass,” Christian laughs beside me before cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out to his friend, “You got this, Baker!”
Arrogant isn’t a word I’ve ever associated with Hudson. Confident, absolutely, but not arrogant. I’ve known way too many skaters who embody that description to ever use it on him.
My chest tightens as Hudson takes his starting position and his eyes once more seek me out in the crowd.
Over the distance between us, it’s impossible to say for sure that he’s looking for me, but my heart whispers that he is.
He’s bringing me along for the ride, and I can almost feel the air that whips through his hair as he strokes across the ice, building speed for his first jump: the quad Salchow.
In practice, he’s performed it flawlessly.
He’s also fallen on his ass almost as many times, or cheated the landing, or put a foot down.
It could go any of those ways, coming down to a millimeter’s difference in the lean of his body or the angle of his edge in the ice.
There can’t be any hesitation on a jump like this.
He has to commit to it early and go all out.
With a powerful push of his leg, his body launches into the air, rotating almost faster than I can count. One, two, three, four times… and he lands backwards on a flowing, outside edge.
My breath releases as he throws a triple toe loop on the end, like it’s no big deal, and our small cheering section erupts in screams of delight and encouragement.
His next element is a flying camel spin combination, and just before he enters it, he sends one more grin my way. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I watched Trevor at dozens of competitions and never felt this involved in a performance.
His triple Axel is a little wobbly on the exit, but he holds on, and when he does a second quad at the end of the program, a quadruple toe loop, it’s not just our group that goes crazy. The whole crowd roars its approval.
The music ends and he punches the air in triumph. I barely realize I’ve leapt to my feet until I feel the flag still gripped in my hands as I cheer, shouting my support along with the others. The excitement and pride are almost as strong as if I’d been the one out there.
“Hudson Baker is currently in first place,” the announcer states after his marks are posted, and we stomp our feet in the stands while he gives us a salute from the kiss ‘n’ cry area.
“That was amazing,” Blake gushes from her spot in front of us, and I can’t find any fault with her enthusiasm. He was incredible. “He could give Keaton a run for his money this year if he skates like that at Canadians.”
“He’s levelled up, even from the start of the season,” Christian agrees. “Whatever’s gotten into him, I hope he can hang onto it.”
What’s changed for Hudson since the start of the season? A little hopeful voice in my head wonders if it might have something to do with me, but I quickly shush it. Not only is that vain, it’s ridiculous when we’ve known each other for a matter of weeks and we’re only friends anyway.
Hudson’s all smiles when he joins us later, nudging Christian to move over so he can sit next to me while we watch the pairs competition. Thankfully, the Riverbend team goes early so we can head back to the hotel and have a quiet night before the next day’s competition.
“You were wonderful today,” I tell him as we linger outside the door to my room.
It’s the first time we’ve been alone all day and as much as I don’t want him to go, I can’t invite him in either.
Sticking to my strict routine and schedule during competitions helps me feel more in control when there are so many factors outside my influence.
He leans against the wall, his arm propped over his head, and grins down at me. “I felt invincible.”
Damn it, he looks sexy right now, his curly copper hair flopping over his forehead and his blue eyes alight with residual adrenaline.
The rush of endorphins that comes from a good performance is a natural high that rivals anything I’ve ever felt, and it’s partly why so many skaters hook up at competitions like this.
You feel so good, you want to keep that feeling going as long as you can.
Is that why Trevor took Evelyn to his bed? Just because I wasn’t around and he wanted someone to share that feeling with?
Hudson’s grin pulls me out of my thoughts as he leans a little closer. “I think you brought me good luck.”
I fight the blush that tries to work its way up my cheeks. “We’ll see tomorrow if that goes both ways.”
“I’ll be there. Get some rest, okay?” With a wink, he backs away, taking a few steps backwards before turning around and heading down the hall to his own room, whistling out a cheerful tune as he goes. I watch until he’s disappeared into his room, alone.
Seems like he won’t be spending time with anyone else tonight, even though he has every right to. We’re not together, and that’s my choice, not his. Because falling for him would be a bad idea, I remind myself as I swipe my keycard against the door and go inside.
A really bad idea, though right now, I’m having a hard time remembering exactly why.