Page 8 of Perfectly Faked

Vale lifts an eyebrow. “You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Let’s just say I know how to get under her skin,” I say. “I guarantee she won’t make it ten weeks before calling it quits. What’s her daddy going to do then? He’ll have to let me return to the ice.”

“Or give you more community service,” Brax warns.

I shake my head. “Anything will be easier than her.”

Vale picks up a few plates and takes them to the sink, grinning. “I don’t know, Leo. If there’s anyone who might not last, I think it’s you.”

“I can outlast Victoria,” I state flatly. I already know I’m not backing down, though, honestly, I’d rather join theIce Capades than work withher.

“Big talk,” Tate says. “Think she’d agree with you?”

“I don’t need her to agree,” I say, heading for the door. “I just need her to quit first.”

Brax leans back in his chair. “You think you can push her that far?”

“I know I can,” I say. “Ask me in a week.”

Tate smirks. “What if she turns the tables on you?”

“Not going to happen,” I say over my shoulder before leaving. “Trust me, this isn’t a game I’m planning to lose.”

FOUR

leo

When I arrive at the rink, Victoria’s already out on the ice, gliding around in a perfect figure eight, completely ignoring me. Figures that the coach’s daughter would already be here staking her claim to the rink. She doesn’t glance my way, probably because acknowledging my existence would feel the same as chewing on wood splinters.

I strip off my hoodie, my gaze tracking the strong line of her leg as she extends it high into the air. She still has that stunning grace on the ice paired with a confidence that’s unstoppable—not that I’m paying attention, of course. It’s just hardnotto notice. A guy can appreciate an athlete’s hard work without it meaning anything, right? Except Victoria isn’t just graceful and strong—she’s the walking embodiment of everything I’ve been running from. Dangerously beautifulandfrom a world so privileged I never fit in. Falling for her again would be a disaster. She’s made it clear where we stand, and I’d be a fool to forget it.

Which is why, for the next week, I plan on being the most unbearable partner she’s ever had. Sure, I’ll skate with her, but I’ll make sure the ice isn’t the only thing that’s painfully cold.

“You’re late,” she calls out, zipping by with a glare.

“Is that how you greet everyone?” I let my bag drop to the floor with a loud thud. “Not even a ‘hello, nice to see you’?”

“Thatwasmy greeting,” she tosses over her shoulder without missing a beat. Apparently, she reconsidered her ultimatum not to work with me, because Coach sent a text late last night saying she was in.

For now.

We can't even greet each other without an argument. Maybe we should have laid down some ground rules before stepping onto the ice. She’s clearly bent on making this a short-lived partnership, and honestly, shouldn’t she be grateful I didn’t rat her out for breaking into the arena?

I lace up my skates and head to the ice, catching her as she circles the rink. “Ready to let me show you how it’s done?” I shoot her my most irritating grin.

She stops and gives me a withering once-over. “Showwhohow it’s done?” Her eyes drop to my hockey skates. “In those?”

I cross my arms. “For the record, I have zero intention of wearing those ridiculous skates.”

“You want to get back on the hockey team or not?” She skates off, not even waiting for my answer.

I watch her do a half-lap before taking off after her. “You know, I thought you’d quit after walking out. Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up today.”

She picks up her speed, almost like she’s trying to shake me. “I don’t owe you an explanation. Besides, I figured you’d have bailed on this whole thing by now.”

“Me?” I give a defiant laugh, almost catching up with her. “I don’t quit that easily.”

She stops abruptly, and I barely have time to veer around her, slamming into the wall with a painfulthudinstead.

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