Page 54 of Unsteady

Just the thought of him had me coming harder than I had in months.

I try to catch my breath and shove the image of him—the invented one that I could swear he’d never truly be like in bed, out of my mind.

Rhys is too golden to fuck me hard enough that I feel nothing.

That’s why he scares you.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I try to focus on the music still playing before it cuts off.

Fuck.

Coach Kelley is standing over me now, arms crossed and eyes narrowed even as I refuse to look at him, like a child avoiding reprimanding.

“You’ve gotten sloppier,” he says, reaching down and roughly jostling my shoulder to pull me to sit up. I shrug him off and stand on my own, skating to the bench for water.

“I’m just tired.”

He follows behind me, and only when he’s nearly in my ear he adds, “Weigh-in. Tomorrow.”

I hate the ease with which that threatens me, the sick feeling that riles in my gut at the obvious implication. I fell because I wasn’t paying attention to my edge, treating the axel like it’s second nature to me, when it’s my worst jump. I fell because I was distracted.

I did not fall because I’ve gained some miniscule amount of weight.

“Do it one more time, Sadie. Make it fucking perfect,” he whispers in my ear, before jolting back.

He cues the music and grabs the water bottle from my hands, tossing it over the bench.

It’s always like this with him. My scheduled time is always last so that he can push us over my time, messing with my carefully created personal schedule.

Which is why I find myself grateful for Victoria’s late arrival, meaning we’ve overlapped and she has the last fifteen.

I finish my routine—almost perfect by my own standards and a barely-there improvement by Coach Kelley’s. Still, hehasto focus on Victoria now, so I rest gently on the bench, scraping the ice from my blades with my plastic guards.

“I thought your attitude was just for me on the ice, but it seems like you’re just as prickly here.”

My heart races, my entire body lighting up like a Christmas tree at the sound of his voice.

He’s stillmyRhys, but he’s more now—Rhys Koteskiy, captain of the Waterfell University hockey team. His hair is combed, still shagging a bit, eyes bright and without their usual deep pit of sadness. He almost looks refreshed.

His hand pats his chest as he looks down at me affectionately. “I’m hurt, Gray.”

I can’t help but match his smile with one of my own.

“I think you’ll survive, hotshot.” I pat my hand on the bench. He sits beside me, pressing his thigh to mine. “Besides, I save my reallyreallybad attitudes for you. No need to get jealous.”

Victoria’s music cuts off, followed by some loud yelling that carries easily across the cavernous rink. As much as the girl annoys me, she takes his brutal corrections in stride, with a quick nod and a frozen smile, hands clasped.

“Is he always like this?” Rhys’ mouth is nearly on the skin of my ear, breath cool. I shudder.

“L-like what?”

“So…intense?”

“No,” I say, a fake little smile gracing my lips. The part I don’t say is that he’s usually worse, especially with me.

But, I need that. Coach Kelley’s unflinching severe support only shows his dedication to my success. He’s like that because he believes in me. He’s the only one who does.

“Here early then?” I ask as he settles his body against mine.

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