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I’d have liked to swap pins with him. We could have. It would have been easy, and an excuse to see each other.

But no.

I switched direction, skating backward, my balance on point, core engaged, ice hissing beneath my blade’s edges. The rinkside boards blurred in the corner of my vision. Yes, this was where I needed to be, on the ice, almost flying. Not thinking.

No thinking.

My blade hitched, the edge caught or my toe pick dug in, and before I could react, my body slammed sideways into the ice at speed. Pain jarred through my hip and shoulder. My teeth snapped shut. I skidded on my side, then dug my blades in, coming to a sprawling, unceremonious stop.

Damn.

The rush was over, my heart pounded.

Falls happened. Even to me. Even doing the basics. They shouldn’t, but they did. Or so I told myself, as I got back onto my skates and brushed off the ice shavings clinging to my side. I’d need to make sure my muscles cooled down slowly, and to check for damage. The ice-dance competitions didn’t begin for another two days. I could not afford another fall like that one.

Knowing when to get off the ice to prevent further injury was as important as knowing when you had more to give. I skated to the gate and stepped off.

“You good?” Tamsyn asked. She’d clearly been watching from the side.

“Yes. No injuries. Just a few bruises.”

“What happened?”

“A divot, perhaps.” I sat, and unlaced my skates, then added the obligatory, “Toe pick.” If in doubt, it was always the toe pick that tripped a skater.

“The practice rink does get some abuse.” She handed me a towel to dry my skates with. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean the fall.”

I ran the towel over my blades, stared at the shining steel, looking for an imperfection that wasn’t there, and answered without looking up. “I’m fine.” Even if I wasn’t fine, I wasn’t going to be telling Tamsyn about my personal challenges. Our personal lives did not belong on or near the ice.

“Your phone has been going off.”

I glanced at it on the bench, then dried the second skate. When it pinged again, I reached out and turned it off. Tamsyn didn’t ask, but I could see she wanted to.

After shoving my skates into their bag, I zipped it up, kicked my shoes on, and picked up the skate bag. “My private life is not your concern.”

She held my glare. “It is if it’s impacting your skating.”

I frowned at her and ignored what appeared to be fresh worry in her gaze. “Worry about your own skating. Your basic crossovers could be tighter.”

I left her by the rinkside and went to cool down. The fall may have hurt more, had I been able to feel anything. But I’d take some time relaxing before the afternoon. Soon there’d be event briefing, media, final uniform check, and the coach trip to the stadium.

The opening ceremony should be one of the crowning days of my whole career. Yet the weight of it only added to the crushing weight of everything else. My father’s expectations, his threats.

I’d be fine. I was always fine.

As long as I didn’t see Cam.

FOURTEEN

CAMDEN

Anticipation climbed slowly throughout the day. Press interviews, meeting fans between venues, signing merch, the coach ride to the stadium, tens of thousands of people all heading in one direction. More signing, more interviews, then we headed underground, beneath the stadium to the staging area. And that was where it really became real. Millions of people around the world were already watching the opening segment of the ceremony on their TVs at home. My parents were glued to the screen. I knew, because they’d texted me. Saga had texted me. Even the coach who took my old job at the Saturday skate school had texted me.

Ren hadn’t texted.