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I should have insisted that we proceed business as usual. Eli would be pissed if we missed practice with only a month and a half to go to the invitational and I didn’t even want to think about what Wiz would be missing.
Instead, though, I snuggled in closer to Leith, feeling more comfortable and safe than I had in a long time. “Can we watch some musicals?”
Leith’s chuckle vibrated through my back. “We can watch as many as you like.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, looking at each of them. “Les Misérables is almost three hours long.”
There was a chorus of groans from the men around me, and for the first time since waking up, I smiled.
“Good! Your form is looking good, but, Ciara, make sure you’re keeping both eyes on Artie. Get into his zones like we spoke about so he knows that you’re there. Use that bond to your advantage!” Eli was fighting to be heard, his voice booming over the medley of Linkin Park’s In the End and Adele’s Set Fire to the Rain which Artie had affectionately dubbed Set Fire to the End.
It was a bit grungier than what I usually skated to—Artie too—but the more we did it the more I could feel the guitar in my blood as we moved through the moves that had quickly become second nature to us.
We’d been doing a pretty good job before the bond, but after it had been sealed?
Complete synchronization wasn’t as far off as I thought it would be.
I guess there was a reason that some of the most successful figure skating pairs in the business were bonded partners.
Every move of Artie’s I could feel, like a stone disturbing a completely still pond and causing the water to ripple out and I knew he experienced the same whenever we skated. Like some kind of sonar navigation stemming from our bond.
He was less anxious now and more trusting than before, even with the more complex moves like the one we were moving into now.
It was the last one before the climax of the song and required us to build momentum before separating and doing a small jump. It wasn’t anywhere near as complicated as what we’d done as single skaters, but for ice dancing it was toeing the line of what was acceptable.
“Twizzles!” Eli barked as if we didn’t already know. “And leg up Ciara, Artie, get a good hold on her!”
Artie’s hand shot out and I was there, ready for him to spin me in until my back met his front and my skates left the ice. His hands were firm on my hips, his nose pressed to the small of my back as we wobbled out of the lift but still managed to stay on our feet for the first time since we started pair skating.
“That’s it!” Eli whooped. “Maybe I should have had you bite him sooner.”
Artie’s eyes rolled, but he grinned at me as we finished up the dance and turned to face Eli with our joined hands in the air.
There was a noise from the stand and I turned to find Enzo still dressed in his on-air suit and clapping for us. Artie’s brows drew together as he turned toward the source of the noise.
I leaned in close to Artie’s ear. “Looks like we had an audience, Enzo’s here.”
Artie’s confused expression smoothed out and he grinned in Enzo’s direction and blew him a kiss.
Eli’s lips twisted as he turned to glare at the alpha. “Oi! This is a closed practice!”
“But I’m family,” Enzo called, frowning at our coach.
“I don’t give a shit if you’re the king of England—now get out!”
“Oh come on, Eli, you’re no fun,” I said, pulling Artie with me as we skated to the half-wall where he was standing. “Let him stick around for a bit.”
“Absolutely not. Neither of you twitterpated kids will focus on practice if Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome sticks around.”
There was a pause before Enzo unhelpfully cut in again. “So you think I’m handsome.”
Eli pointed at the door. “Out! They have thirty more minutes and you’re just going to be a distraction.”
Like a kicked dog, Enzo’s shoulders drooped and he headed for the door, mouthing at me that he would wait for us before he ducked out.
“You’re no fun,” I grumbled at Eli, making Artie laugh.
“I’m your skating coach, not your fun coach, now get your asses back on that ice and let’s take it from the top. Artie, this time…”
