Page 98 of My Last Dance

Kappy’s eyebrows rose in amusement.

“This is bad,” I told him.

“How bad?”

“This means we have to start at the regional level and place all the way up to nationals to earn a bid to Milan.”

He scratched his cheek. “Okay, so how many competitions are we talking?”

“Regionals, Sections, and then Nationals.”

He shrugged. “We can do it.”

I blinked. I hadn’t been to a regional competition in years, maybe even a decade.

Patrick eyed me. He understood. This felt like a punishment from the board. Either they didn’t believe Kappy was a serious contender, or they were still mad at me over my Grand Prix meltdown. They were trying to weed us out.

“I think we need to call a press conference.” Patrick shifted his weight. “Now that I’ve asked about all this, word is gonna get out about you two skating together. We need to take control of the narrative, show that Kappy’s all in. Are you ready for that?” Patrick looked to Kappy.

Kappy shrugged while reaching for his water bottle. “Sure, why not?”

He was the picture of calm, but nerves were ricocheting through my body.

Patrick nodded before marching off, typing in his phone as he went.

My hands went to my temples to ease my incoming headache. “There’s no going back after this,” I warned him.

The corner of his lips tipped up. “I was never gonna go back, Piper.”

“You weren’t?” My question came out as a thin whisper.

He shook his head. “We’re not quitters.”

His confidence in himself, inus, was attractive, and an unexpected flutter exploded under my belly button.

His eyes dipped to my lips. “Ready?”

Swallowing hard, I studied his outstretched hand and was transported back in time.

Back to a crowded bar.

Back to whispering,“Kiss me”in the dark.

I ached for his lips, for his hands, forhim.

But the heartbreaking reality of the situation dawned on me:It wasn’t our time.

We already put in too much hard work into this for me to sacrifice it all just because I was reading too much into his words.

I was recently reminded of what it was like to not have a partner in skating or real life, and I knew better than to push my luck. I couldn’t risk losing out on one just because I suddenly wanted the other as well.

We could be partners, and that had to be good enough.

That night, I sat at my desk with my sewing machine and all my different materials and rhinestones scattered around, and I stared at my bedroom door, wanting so badly to burst into the living room and go to him.

He wasright there.

It’d be so easy…

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