Dean’s breathing hitched.
“Sounds like the perfect way to end today.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
February 15
Dean
I sat next to Ethan,watching as Nathan and Brooke skated toward the Kiss and Cry. Mark seemed happy, but I knew by the line of Nathan’s shoulders that he wasn’t.
“What do you think?” Ethan murmured.
I sighed. “You know Nate. He wants this so bad. They both do. So if he thinks they’ve skated anything less than gold…” I shrugged. “I think they can do it. That was way better than Hungary. They could still be in with a chance of a medal.”
Georgia was the team to beat. So far they were in the lead with 80.04.
I glanced toward the boards, where Luka and Mila waited, the next to skate.
“You seem so calm,” Ethan remarked. “How’d you do it?” He dropped his voice. “Because ifmyboyfriend was about to skate, I’d be a hot mess.”
I huffed. “Trust me, I am anything but calm.”
Then the announcer started talking, and both of us watched the monitor.
“Hey, that’s pretty good,” I said as the technical score flashed up, 41.43. I crossed my fingers, waiting for the final mark.
74.60
That put them in second place.
Luka and Mila had skated out to center ice, accompanied by the roar of the crowd.
Luka wore a costume of red and gold, a dragon splayed across the back, its wings glittering. Mila’s gold dress with flashes of red was almost the reverse of his. They took their opening position, blades aligned, bodies angled toward each other with the effortless precision that only came from years skating together. The arena fell quiet around them, and my chest tightened.
You can do it, baby.
The music began, and their opening twist lift exploded upward, clean and controlled, Mila rising high above him before Luka caught her securely against the swell of applause, his movements measured and steady, practiced into instinct.
The side-by-side jumps landed in perfect unison, drawing an immediate reaction from the crowd, but I barely heard it. I was too busy watching Luka himself, the calm focus in his expression, the careful composure that never cracked under cameras or pressure.
Don’t give them anything. Just get through tonight.
The throw jump was flawless. Mila floated through the landing while Luka guided the exit with quiet strength, and for a moment the familiar ache returned hard enough to make breathing uncomfortable. Watching Luka look at Mila that way should have hurt.
Somehow it didn’t.
Now it felt complicated, because I knew the truth.
Their spins centered beautifully, their bodies moving together with seamless precision, and the audience leaned into the intimacy of it exactly the way they were supposed to.
When the lasso lift hit the musical crescendo, the arena erupted.Mila opened above him while Luka anchored the movement beneath her, solid and unshakable, and pride swelled my chest.
“Oh my God, they’re awesome,” Ethan murmured.
When the program ended, the arena erupted.
I got to my feet with everyone else, applauding while Luka and Mila stood beneath the lights, breathing hard, their costumes catching flashes from a hundred cameras.
