Page 2 of My Rival for Christmas

I pretend to busy myself from where I’m kneeling on the ice, tightening my already tightened skates, just to buy myself more time before answering.

Because what do I say to a girl who’s made it very clear to me in the six years we’ve been partners that skating will always come first? Before her, before me, before everything.

I mean, she made me sign a fucking Partners Contract when Vytas first purposed we skate together.

And the number one rule on that list?

No dating your skating partner.

Sure, one could argue that was six years ago. Paige was twelve and I was thirteen, our contract handwritten on a piece of printer paper, but that shit is iron-clad.

Notarized by the will of a neurotic child athlete with big dreams and everything.

Finally, when I’ve fiddled with my laces to the point where it now looks like I’m fondling them, I straighten to my full six-two height.

Towering over Paige, even if her skates add a few inches to her five-seven willowy frame. She tilts her narrow chin back, watching me expectantly. Those gemstone eyes cutting through my clothes and into my chest.Searingme down to the bone.

“What brought this on?” We normally save the hard questions for when we’re limp and exhausted from hours of skating, like what is the purpose of life and why aren’t we allowed to know the existence of aliens?

When our guards are lowered and we’re more likely to be honest with each other.

Maybe that’s why she’s asking now.

She wants the lie over the truth. The comfort in predictability.

Paige bites her gloss-coated lip and shrugs, like she just happened to pluck a wayward, fleeting thought from her brain. As inconsequential as asking what I want for lunch.

“Oh no, you can’t back out now.” I push the sleeves of my green henley up to my elbows. “I’m now all too curious how we got fromI think we should work on the twist liftstodon’t fall in love with me, even though for the last six years I’ve made sure to let you know just how absurd I find the idea of love.”

Paige follows my movements as intently as I did while she fiddled with her hair, eyeing the newest addition to my fledgling tattoo sleeve now on display with rapt interest. “I don’t find the idea of loveabsurd,you ass. I just find it not in the cardsright now.Not until after?—”

“You win a gold medal,” I finish for her, having heard this impassioned speech more than once over the years. Usually when I’ve gotten on her case to relax and live a little. I hate it more and more each time.

Paige has goals, dreams, and until they’re achieved, nothing is going to stop her. Not even something as silly and inconvenient as love.

Two more months. Two months and we’ll be at the Winter Games.

Two months, and one gold later.

That’s all I have to wait.

All I have to wait.

Paige sticks her tongue out at me. “Like you’re any better.”

“Ah, but we’re not talking about me.” Yeah, I want to win a gold medal, the epitome of excellence, but there is something I find myself wanting more. Something I’d sacrifice that medal to have, without hesitation.

I skate around her in a circle with a grin. She follows in a tighter, more controlled spin. “Now, feel like being honest? What brought this on?”

Not quite meeting my gaze, Paige softly confesses, “Stassi and Ivan.”

Ah, of course.Now her question doesn’t feel so out of pocket.

Stassi and Ivan are another pair skating duo part of Charmed Athletics. Our competitors on skates and friends off the ice.

The pair has been skating together for as long as Paige and I have, if not longer, and they just hard launched their relationship over the weekend. At the aforementioned Holiday Spectacular, where they ended the most intense, passionate routine they’ve ever done with an equally as intense, passionate kiss.

So much so, their make-out had a concerned parent shouting, “Make room for baby Jesus!”

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