Page 53 of Rinkmates

“I won’t,” she says, pushing me out and slamming the door behind me.

Well, I do. Thinking about her showering is a tantalizing turn-on. Especially after that kiss.

I spend the rest of the day watching cooking shows and posting that adorable pic of us. My followers gobble it up, gushing about how perfectly we fit together. I can’t help but laugh at it—if they knew we were at each other’s throats daily, they’d think otherwise. But they’re doing exactly what I hoped for. They’re taking my ex-plumber’s videos and mixing them with the photos I posted, creating new clips. In no time, there are hundreds of videos of us circulating on the web, and my bar brawls are nowhere to be seen. They’re all buzzing aboutGrace on Ice, hyping it up, and I’m thrilled because Liora’s finally getting the attention she deserves.

I’m a happy man, until Liora comes back home with a plant. A dead one. Bigger than her. And she calls it Oscar. Who gives their plants names?

She got it from the production crew, who forgot to water it, and I learn that she loves all plants and apparently takes great joy in trying to rescue them. The downside: that plant looks like a mess, and I’m left to watch Oscar die. It’s a brown stick with actual black leaves and moldy points, sitting in the middle of my living room, slowly withering away.

I couldn’t resist her puppy-eyed look, especially since she’s been sleeping on the couch while we wait for the technicians to fix her bedroom. They’ve removed all the carpets and thedamaged furniture. I count down the hours until she moves back into her room because once night falls, I find myself unable to leave mine. It seems like she has cast a spell on me after all.

Sixteen

LIORA

If I hear the wordsquadandsalchowtogether in a sentence one more time, it might be the thing that finally tips me over the edge. I’ve been on the edge since I woke up this morning with a knot of nerves in my stomach. After another grueling training session, all I wanted was a few minutes of peace under the hot spray of the shower. But just as I begin to unwind, I hear them: Stacey, Patricia, and Molly. Their voices bounce off the tiled walls.

“Did you see how Liora stumble today?” Stacey’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard. “It’s a wonder she hasn’t broken an ankle yet.”

“Yeah,” Molly chimes in, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “Maybe she should stick to something safer, like knitting.”

I clench my jaw, feeling a wave of anger washing over me.

It’s like being back in those cutthroat competitions where every skater was both a competitor and a potential enemy. Priya had to leave early today for dinner with her dad, and without her calming presence, the studio feels even more toxic. I chose to usethe bathroom here, hoping to avoid another awkward encounter with Riley at home. Now, I’m regretting it.

I finish my shower quickly, keeping my movements as quiet as possible, but when I hear Stacey and her squad laughing and something that sounds a lot like running away, I wrap a towel around myself and step out into the changing area, only to find—nothing. My clothes are gone. Every single item has vanished from the bench where I left them.

Panic tightens my chest as I scan the empty room.

Stacey.

Shit. Fucking shit.

I run out of the shower, but she’s gone.

It’s all closed up—everyone else has left.

My stomach turns into a storm of nausea.

Ever since our first day, Stacey has had it in for me. Her obsession with pushing me out intensified when Grace commended Aiden and me for our routine last time. In this studio, compliments are ammunition, and jealousy is the battleground. Stacey must have seen this as her chance to take a shot at me. It’s clear she is dead set on bullying me away from my place here. But I won’t go. She’s messing with the wrong one. What I’ve learned is that karma will pay back. She’ll get what she deserves. Stupid bitch.

I’m grateful that she didn’t take my skates and didn’t steal my clothes during the first week. It would have been a disaster. Now, I receive dresses from the set crew and can finally buy new clothes for myself.

Wrapping the towel tightly around myself, I hurry to my locker to grab my phone. I should have stored my clothes there, too, but it never occurred to me that someone might be childish enough to steal them. Holding my phone, I realize there’s no way I can risk taking the subway or calling an Uber in just a towel. Heat of humiliation floods my cheeks as I just stare at the screen.

It’s a frustrating situation, but with neither Priya nor Nina owning a car and Aiden already on a date, there’s only one person I can turn to. The thought causes my heart to race for a completely different reason.

The second Riley picks up the phone his voice comes through, all tense and concerned. “Lia? What’s wrong?”

Well, I have never called him before, so I can’t be surprised he assumes I need something from him. I do. I take a deep breath and push aside my pride to ask for his help. I considered asking him to just bring me clothes, but the thought of him rummaging through my stuff—and potentially finding things like my little teddy bear and asking about it—made me hesitate. I just couldn’t do that. Instead, I ask, “Hey, can you please come get me? Maybe?”

The line goes quiet for a few seconds, and I worry he might say no.

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”

Wow. His quick agreement surprises me; he doesn’t even ask why I need him. This is…kinda sweet?

“At the studio. Everything’s closed, and…I don’t have my clothes.”

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