Page 101 of My Last Dance

“Uh, don’t worry, but”—he gulped—“I think your dress broke.”

I gasped.

Debbie, the ancient director of US Figure Skating, shot out of her front seat. She shook her gray bob and snarled, “Why is it alwaysyouat the center of a scandal, Miss Wyndell-Hamilton?”

“Oh my God. More memes,” I practically wailed.

Kappy dropped his head back laughing.

“Don’t let go,” I warned as another bright flash went off.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his deep voice rumbled.

My cheeks flamed up at the term of endearment that the pressdefinitelyheard.

He maneuvered me behind him so I was fully out of sight, then he craned his neck and said, “Well, folks, I am ice dancing with Miss Piper, and we’re going to win the Olympics.”

The press erupted with questions about his contract, if he was retiring, if he was in breach of contract with the Whalers.

I covered my face.

This was such a mess.

“My contract specifies that I can hire private on-ice training to improve my skating. I am taking this year to do that. Patrick is my chosen coach.”

Wait, that was actually smart of him.

“Does this have anything to do with being placed on concussion protocol during the Whalers’ playoff run?”

I froze.

Concussion protocol? When did he have a concussion? And why didn’t I hear about it from Mer?

“No, it does not,” Kappy answered firmly. “But it’s probably best for my brain to take a little break from checking. Well…” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “As long as this one doesn’t check me.”

Letting out a harrumph, I jutted my butt at him, making him jump away.

The press laughed before yelling out more questions.

“I’ve already spoken with my coaches and Mrs. Greenwich,” Kappy said, cutting through their voices. “And I have their blessing. I plan to be in the Whalers lineup next year. And if you miss seeing me out on the ice, you can always tune in to the US Figure Skating Nationals, we’ll be there,” he said with unwavering confidence. “Now, if you don’t mind, we should probably get this taken care of.”

How the hell was he so calm?

Laughs erupted from the crowd while we shuffled back to the locker room hallway.

_________

In the uber back to my place, our phones were blowing up with questions from friends and family. He turned his phone off and tossed it in the middle seat between us.

“You’re not gonna answer people?”

“Nah.” He relaxed back, taking up so much space that his knee touched mine. “That world doesn’t exist if you turn it off, remember? I just wanna be here.”

I worried my bottom lip. “You had a concussion in the spring?”

He frowned. “No, the NHL is just super cautious. I left practice early one day. I don’t even know how they found out about that.”

That explained why I never heard about it either. Taking in a shaky breath, I reached for his hand. I needed him. I needed his calm steadiness.

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