Chapter 59
~Riley~
The opening notes of High Hopes fill the room and I’m instantly awake, knowing that song only means one thing.
Competition day.
For just a moment, my mind flashes back to that morning, four months ago, when I woke up to this song expecting to find Trevor in bed with me. His absence set off a chain of events that led me straight to where I am today, even if at the time it didn’t feel very straightforward at all.
The sheets rustle next to me and a warm hand slides across my still-bare stomach.
“What’s the routine for this morning? Can we fit in one more quickie?”
With a giggle, I reach over to turn off the music before rolling over into Hudson’s arms and planting a firm kiss on his lips. “Only if you work out with me afterwards.”
“If that’s the price to pay, I’ll work out with you every damn day, Riley. Morning and night.”
Half an hour later, we’re in the hotel gym together, working up a sweat on side-by-side ellipticals, and an hour after that, we’re together in my shower with me pinned against the wall, legs around his waist and water dripping down my body while he drives into me.
My practice ice time is just before lunch, and Hudson manages to sweet-talk the event staff into letting him stand rinkside with my coach for it.
The fact that he’s a well-known skater in his own right certainly helps smooth the way, and when I skate over to check in with my coach partway through the practice, Hudson is busy signing autographs for a group of fans hanging over the railing to pass him things.
Something he says has them almost reeling with laughter.
“I’d ask if he’s a distraction, but you’re skating great,” my coach tells me wryly. “Ready for the run-through? You’re up next.”
“I’m ready.”
When the music starts, I skate the program for Hudson. None of the other skaters on the ice exist and none of the fans in the stands either. His enthusiastic cheering after each element is all I can hear.
When I leave the ice, I can’t help but marvel at my lack of nerves. All I feel is excitement, wishing this evening would arrive faster so I can show everyone exactly what I can do.
And if I don’t nail it? Well, Hudson will still be there waiting for me, so how bad could it be?
This must be how he always stays so calm and grounded before a competition. He understood before I did that a good skate, as wonderful as it would be, isn’t what defines us.
Only we get to do that.
Hand-in-hand, we walk into the hotel restaurant to meet the rest of the Baker family for a late lunch, but my steps falter when I catch sight of the other person sitting at the table with them.
“Mom?”
Her perfectly-styled, straight hair stands out among the naturally curly hair of most of the Baker family, and her elegant blue silk blouse contrasts with the brightly-coloured sweaters everyone else is wearing, sweaters that it takes me a moment to realize all have a picture of me on them.
I don’t have time to process that, not with the sight of my mother next to Hudson’s mom still not computing in my brain.
“What are you doing here?”
Her gaze slides from me to the man at my side. “Your new boyfriend told me that if I didn’t show up, I’d regret not seeing you win your first national championship in person.”
I twist to face Hudson in stunned surprise. “You invited her? How?”
He’s never spoken to my mom. I don’t even remember telling him her name.
“Zac’s good at finding information,” he explains with a shrug. “Didn’t take him too long to find your mom’s work email, so I sent her a video of your skate yesterday and told her you’re probably going to win today. I figured she wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Your mom’s just been telling us about her work,” Mrs Baker adds, gesturing towards the empty seats across from them, encouraging us to sit. “It’s fascinating.”
They resume their conversation as Hudson and I take our seats, my head still spinning.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” I whisper to him.
“When it comes to you? I’m always going to at least try.”
After finishing our lunch, I head to my room to have a short nap before heading back to the rink, another part of my competition-day routine.
Hudson leaves so I can rest, promising to return in time to accompany me to the arena.
My alarm wakes me from the short, restful sleep, and a knock sounds at my door as I’m brushing my teeth.
Still holding the towel in my hand to pat my face dry, I open the door to find someone other than my boyfriend standing there instead.
This day is full of surprises.
“Hey.” Trevor offers me a tentative smile, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Do you have a minute?”
He looks good, as he always does. He defended his title last night, winning another national championship, but there’s no smugness or satisfaction in his expression. If I had to guess, I’d say he looks nervous.
“Not really.” I fold my arms over my stomach, clenching the towel tight in my fist to keep my own nerves steady. “What do you need?”
His flinch betrays his guilt more than any words could. “I didn’t come to ask you for anything, Riley. I just wanted to say good luck today. You can beat Evelyn, you know. You’re better than she is.”
The words surprise me for one simple reason. “You’ve never said that to me before.”
“Because I didn’t realize it,” he admits. “She was also so sure of herself, and you…”
“Weren’t,” I fill in for him.
He nods sheepishly. “Yeah. But yesterday, you were fantastic. It’s almost making me wonder if I should move to Riverbend too.”
His smile is meant to make it sound like a joke, but I studied this man for two years.
I know him better than that. He’s feeling out the possibility of a reconciliation, and I shut him down as quickly as I can.
“Nothing’s changed for me, Trevor. We’re not getting back together. But thank you for stopping by.”
I start to close the door before yanking it back open again.
“Actually, that’s not entirely true. One big thing has changed: I’m in a new relationship, and I’m very happy.”
Right on cue, Hudson walks into view, his eyes already fixed on Trevor. “Something I can help you with, McDavis?”
Trevor’s head swivels towards Hudson, his eyes widening as he registers his appearance here and what it must mean. His gaze swings back to me, and I brace for the accusation and jealousy he showed back when he found Hudson in my room at the Grand Prix final.
It doesn’t come, though. His jaw clenched, Trevor gives me a nod. “I see. Good luck, again.”
Ignoring Hudson entirely, Trevor walks away, and Hudson immediately steps closer. “Are you alright? What did he want?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you later, but we need to get going.”
The competition is already underway by the time we reach the rink.
I head to the competitors’ entrance while Hudson veers off to the main doors to join his family in the crowd.
For the first time in my life, I’m skating last tonight while being in the lead.
When my marks come up, I’ll know right away where I finish.
Evelyn ignores me in the dressing room as we stare into opposite mirrors, putting on strong makeup that’s almost garish up close but helps our expressions be seen by the judges across the rink. The other women and I all exchange small talk and wishes for a good skate but Evelyn says nothing.
During the warm-up, I deviate from my routine one more time and look up into the crowd. It takes me a few seconds, but among the collage of colours and lights, I spot a familiar group of people in matching sweaters, holding up a large sign that says Livin’ on a Prayer Riley!
Holding one end of the sign, my mom waves, and for a moment, I’m afraid this is all a dream. But another skater passes me, the wind whipping across my face, and unlikely as it may seem, it’s actually happening.
After leaving the ice at the end of the warm-up, I put headphones in and listen to my own music to drown out the sounds of my competitors and the cheers and groans of the audience.
I don’t want to know how anyone else does.
My skate isn’t for them, or even for the judges.
Tonight, I skate for the people in the crowd supporting me.
Most of all, I skate for myself.
When I take the ice, my legs feel steady beneath me. My heartbeat, though fast, seems to fill me with energy rather than sapping it.
“You’ve got this,” my coach promises, holding my hands tight as I nod my head. “You’ve done this program perfectly in practice. Show them what you’ve got.”
The announcer calls my name, and I take my starting position as the crowd falls silent. I suck in one last, deep breath and blow it out as Hudson’s voice shouts across the cavernous space.
“You rock, Riley!”
Tonight, I really do.
My opening combination is perfect, light and airy and landed on a flowing edge so smooth I almost wonder again if I’m dreaming. The crowd claps along to the familiar music as I step into another jump sequence, and when I nail that one too, they erupt in applause.
There’s no way to hear one voice in the wall of sound, but I could swear I hear Hudson cheering anyway.
The world blurs around me as I spin, exiting exactly on the beat, and my body seems to stretch more than ever in the spiral sequence. Heat floods my cheeks as I remember Hudson telling me how this position turns him on, but I channel that buzz of energy into my next jump and land it perfectly too.
There’s one small stumble on the landing of my final jump, but as I head into my last layback spin, I can see the crowd rising to their feet before the spin even stops.
My pick hits the ice on the final beat of music, stopping my rotation precisely on my mark, and my knees almost buckle as the full force of it hits me.
That was the performance of my life.
The crowd roars their approval, so loud I can’t hear myself think, and I don’t even realize I’m crying until the cool air chills the tears on my cheeks as they trace a straight line down my face.
More flowers than I’ve ever received before rain down onto the ice as I take my bows, but when I get to the kiss ‘n’ cry area, I sort through them one-by-one until I find the Riley Rocks card I knew would be there. Holding it up, I blow a kiss to the TV camera.
Tears start up all over again when my marks come up. It’s a season’s best. A personal best. And next to my name, the number one shines bright.
Before I can even try to collect myself, the network reporter takes a seat next to me.
“Congratulations, Riley! How does it feel to be the new American champion?”
“Surreal?” The word comes out almost as a question and the audience around me laughs, letting me know that this interview is being broadcast in the arena as well as on TV. I’m in too much shock to be nervous about it.
The reporter smiles too. “These marks are a big jump up from last year when you finished seventh. Is your new club responsible for the new Riley we’re seeing?”
“Riverbend is a fantastic place to train, yeah. All the coaches there are amazing and there are so many other world-class skaters, it inspires me to work that much harder.”
She starts to take the microphone back to ask her next question, but I grab hold of it, realizing I need to add one more thing.
“My boyfriend, Hudson Baker, is a big part of it too. He gave me a whole new perspective on competition.”
Her eyebrows raise in surprise at the sound of Hudson’s name and the crowd murmurs at the news, but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks; I just want Hudson to know how proud I am to be with him. “Did you two meet when you moved to Riverbend?”
I grin up at the crowd, zoning in on Hudson even with the distance between us. “Actually, we met at Sea World when we were kids. We reconnected at Riverbend.”
“That sounds like a great story,” she enthuses before her eyes go wide. “Wait, is that why he had a dolphin at Canadians? We’ve all seen the memes.”
The crowd laughs around me again and the sound wraps around me with a warmth and acceptance and peace that I’ve never really known.
“It’s a great story,” I agree, beaming with all the joy in my heart. “And there’s a lot more still to come.”
~The End~