Page 54 of Ice Dance

“You were late on the rocker,” he said, cold as the ice we skated on.

“I know.” I pulled free, and fought back a flush of embarrassment.

We both heard Dylan’s sigh from several feet away. “Well, at least we have eight months to put this disaster right.”

The rest of the day didn’t go much better. We’d gone from flying in the dance studio to whatever the mess I’d made of us. And it was about to get much worse.

As we packed our gear and the rink began to fill with novices, Hasegawa and I were at least able to stand next to each, but we weren’t doing much talking. Dylan muttered something like a curse, frowned at her phone, then at us.

“Stay here. Do not leave this rink. I’ll be right back.”

She hurried outside, where the phone signal was better.

Back in my flat sneakers, I sat on the bench and pretended to wipe down my blades when we both knew they were already dry and had been for some time.

“About last night—” he began.

I did not want to go there, not now, not ever. “It was nothing. Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, then he nodded, and that was it. We were done. We never had to discuss it or mention it ever again.

Dylan was gone long enough for us to get restless. I’d even started talking about the weather. Then she returned, not looking any happier, phone still in her hand.

“At least I know what today was about,” she said, and held out her phone.

On the screen, a very clear video played of me and Hasegawa grinding on a basketball court dance floor. The music was perfect, so was our form. I looked glued to him, in every way, and we swayed. The roll of my hips, the look on my face. Hasegawa’s head was turned slightly away, his face in my hair, but Saga had been right. We did look hot.

Dylan’s frown took over her whole face. “When I left you two last night, I did not expect you to go so thoroughly off the rails.”

Hasegawa dropped onto the bench, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the plexiglass hard enough to rattle it.

“I don’t care what this is, frankly. But unfortunately for you both, the internet has some very loud opinions. While we’ve been training, the whole ice dance world has seen you two dirty dancing it up.”

My heart dropped. “It’s live?”

“Yes, it’s live. It’s been live since three a.m.”

Was that why Hasegawa had been late? Had he known there was a firestorm going on outside and come anyway? I looked over, and no . . . He’d gone pale. That was not the face of a man who’d seen this coming.

“It’s just dancing,” I said, tacking on a flirty laugh that fell flat.

“Camden,” Dylan sighed. “That’s not just dancing, it’s a statement. If we announce you’re paired up in the gender open into this storm, it’s going to be a bloodbath.”

“I don’t see why. So we close-danced? We do that every day on the ice.”

“On the ice. In training. You don’t take it somewhere off-site and get into it like this unless you want the spotlight on you both. Congratulations. You’re the new hottest trending hashtag in ice dance.”

I looked again at Hasegawa. He hadn’t moved, just stayed slumped, head back, eyes closed. “Hasegawa, I’m sorry.”

His throat undulated. His silence and lack of reaction were worse than if he’d blown up and thrown something, like a drink in my face.

“Who posted it?” he asked, voice dry.

“The Saga Studios account.”

“Saga posted that?” The ground went out from under me. Saga did this? Why? Why would he do something like this to me? He’d known how cut up I’d been last night.

“This is your shit,” Hasegawa said, glare pinned on me. “I can’t deal with it.” He pushed off the bench. “I can’t deal with you right now either. I’m taking a day. Don’t contact me, either of you.”