Page 87 of Rinkmates

Between Riley’s home games, press conferences, and strategy sessions, I’ve barely seen him in person—just snippets on screen and hurried conversations we managed to squeeze in between my own interviews and training sessions. Nina kept our social media alive, digging up old photos for posts and stories because we were too caught up to take new ones to show the world we’re alive. I was so busy, I had barely time to eat or even talk to Mom. We usually spend hours talking on the phone but my schedule is wild.

The Falcons advanced to the second round of the play-offs, and I couldn’t be prouder of Riley for handling everything without getting sucked into drama with Houston. There were even rumors of dropping the lawsuit altogether. Meanwhile, Priya and I made it to the next round of the show too. Aiden and I plan a rockabilly dance routine next. But honestly, it was all starting to wear on me. Balancing the demands of the show day after day was exhausting.

And while the jury seems mean on screen, it’s nothing compared to how they treat us behind the camera. They oftencomment on our looks and dictate what we should wear according to our shape. Grace’s unsolicited advice about not wearing see-through dresses because they accentuated my ass too much hit a nerve. I’ve always been sensitive about my figure, especially as a figure skater where physique matters. I thought I left this behind in Beijing. But with the end of May approaching, the pressure only intensified, making me more self-conscious each day.

But hey, the weekend sounds promising.

Aiden flew out to visit his mother, and with Riley’s team unexpectedly wrapping up the second round of play-offs faster than anticipated, he, too, finds himself with a few days to spare. We agree to catch up over lunch, so I make my way to the arena where the Falcons train. The minute I step into the arena, the familiar cold hits my face, but I’m so nervous to see him that no matter how cold it gets in here, I’ll be burning up inside. I go straight to the locker rooms, but before entering, I stop. I can’t just go in there. It’s full of guys and they could be naked and—

The door opens and Colton comes out. I step back, already apologizing for clogging the door.

“Hey.” That’s all he says.

“Hey, um, where’s Ri?” I could already slap my own face for asking such a stupid question, but it’s out. I let it go.

He raises an eyebrow and points behind him.

Wow, so much for a conversation. “Could you maybe—”

“Go in,” he says and turns around to leave.

I yell after him, “Do you really think it’s okay for me, though?”

He’s already at the end of the corridor when he gives me a thumbs-up without even turning around to look at me. I huff out a grunt and decide to just do it. What will happen? I’ll see naked guys? Well, I’ll survive it.

I burst into the locker room and the first thing I see is hockey gear strewn about and that scent of sweat and ice hits my face like a slap. Instantly, towels are snatched up and hands scramble to cover body parts. The room turns into a view of asses. Lots of asses. I cover my face and want to bust out again before I hear his unmistakable voice.

“Hey, there she is,” Riley calls out.

Without really thinking, I find myself standing on my toes and giving him a soft kiss. But then, I’m taken aback by how easily I kiss him, like it’s meant to be, and my stomach drops. Oh no. It shouldn’t be like this. We’re supposed to have a fake relationship. Sure, we had a moment where things got out of hand and he fingered me, but I really need to get my head straight. “Sorry,” I whisper, trying to pull away, but he gently pulls me back, deepening the kiss.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting for that kiss.”

My cheeks turn pink.

He winks at me. “To be honest, I thought you’d wait for me outside, but I like how you go to full lengths to find me.”

He only has a towel around his waist and his hair is wet, fresh out of the shower, giving him this scent of something musky and lemon. I just stare at his chest, his stomach, his tattoos.Help. He’s close.

But from one ogling moment to the drooling next, all I hear is, “Hey, are you coming to the party tonight?”

I blink and blink again, spotting Derek leaning against the locker to my right.

Trying to banish the image of Riley’s abs from my mind, I focus on forming a coherent sentence. To manage a normal conversation, I grip Riley by the hips and move him to the right, putting Derek in front of me.

Sweet Jesus, Riley feels so damn good.

“What party?” I ask, blocking that naked guy on my right out, but he moves into my vision again, his expression turning serious as he shakes his head at Derek.

“No,” Riley says. “Don’t you dare—”

Derek jumps in to speak. “Ah, it’s a little tradition,” he starts and leans against his locker casually. “It’s a secret party that only happens when we make it to the semis.”

“Yes, exactly. Secret, Der,” Riley grunts out.

“A secret party? That sounds fun,” I say and notice Riley rolling his eyes.

“No, it’s not, trust me.”

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