Page 39 of Rinkmates

If she wants war, fine. She can have it.

I head back to my room and blast a rock song loud enough to shake the windows. As I relish the way she yells at me, calling me immature, too, a nagging thought won’t leave me: I can’t help but wonder if we’re both just waiting for the day when hating each other isn’t enough anymore.

Twelve

LIORA

Ifound Riley’s kryptonite. It’s lavender. He hates is. He almost gagged when I brought home a bouquet of lavender, so of course I immediately bought a lavender spray. And I use it.There you go, jerk.I spray the entire apartment with it.

On my way to set, I text Nina.

Liora: Is there a way to keep the Puckster on away games longer?

Nina: No, but what did he do?

Liora: Being himself.

Nina: Oh shoot.

Grace paired me with Aiden while Stacey sulked in the corner. She’s paired with a singer named Russel Ro, and I think he’s way too nice for her, but who am I to say?

I really like Aiden, though.

He’s been nothing but nice. The complete opposite of Riley. I still can’t wrap my head around how furious he was when I atehis cereal. He repeatedly assured me that I could feel entirely at home and use anything I needed, and then he practically snapped my head off because I had a few handfuls of Fruit Loops. My mom once said that men can be like kids, but wow, I didn’t realize how spot-on she was.

Anyway, each couple gets different training times, so the rink and dance studios are never overcrowded. We start our training in the studio because it’s easier to practice lifts on solid ground, especially for those of us who didn’t grow up on the ice. I’m really nervous, but Aiden makes it easy. He’s so forthcoming and always polite.

The studio is simple, with mirrors on every wall and the faint smell of sweat and rosin in the air. I show Aiden the little dance I came up with over the weekend, and he claps for a whole minute until I beg him to stop because I’m not the best when it comes to praise; I tend to get all shy and awkward.

I’ve created a routine to Lewis Capaldi’s song “Someone You Loved.” It may not be the most complex dance, but it needs to impress the judges and audience if we want to make it ontoGrace on Icetogether.

Grace has reminded us that nothing is guaranteed at this point. We have to perform together flawlessly and hope the judges give us a pass. If they do, we’ll be part of the final cast for the show. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I have a strong feeling about us. I can’t help but think Grace feels the same way. Even though she hasn’t come down to talk to us directly, I know she watches us closely, silently observing our every move.

We spent all of Monday in the studio, perfecting each move, every step, and it didn’t feel like work at all. It was fun to dance and come up with different moves with Aiden. I was really surprised by how talented he is. If I didn’t know any better, he could pass for a dancer.

But training with a constant filming crew rushing around is a surreal experience. Producers dart back and forth, cameras always rolling, creating a buzz of excitement and nerves in the air. It’s nothing like practicing in the quiet solitude of an empty rink—this is pressure on a whole new level.

Laughter echoes from the next room, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Priya is paired with Mason. I’m pretty sure he’s just playing her for those pretty doe eyes of hers. And damn it, it’s working because their chemistry on stage is off the charts. But I worry for Priya, I think she actually likes this guy. It’s written all over her face whenever she talks about Mason, and each time, I want to gag. I just hope he’s not going to break her heart. If he does, I’ll break his dick. That’s a promise.

When I come home, I’m greeted with the mouthwatering aroma of Riley cooking. I don’t only mean the scents and spices in the air but seeing him standing there, a headband in his wild mess of black hair, a gray shirt, and his stupid tattooed bicep rolling while he stirs the pot—it makes my knees wobble.

Shit. I looked too long while I untied my shoes.

Not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but if he weren’t such an ass, I’d actually enjoy that view. Then again, I shouldn’t enjoy it anyway. So, all good. Perfectly good. Be the ass you are, Riley.

“Hi,” he says as I walk to the shower.

His eyes drop to my leggings and stay there.

“Hi,” I say back, noticing he’s making red curry with shrimp. Why does it have to smell this good?

“Thanks for the cereal,” he says casually.

“You’re welcome,” I respond, a little taken aback that we’re actually having a civil conversation.

By the time I’m out of the shower, he’s finished and slides a bowl my way over the kitchen counter. My stomach drops. No. No. No. Don’t start being decent now.

I manage to frown at his nice gesture. “You gonna scream at me if I eat that?” I ask, arms folded.

---