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But I couldn’t exactly pretend I wasn’t here.
I skated over to the boards about ten feet down from where they stood and grabbed my phone to shut off the next song on the playlist.
“Great form,” the enthusiastic man said before I could decide how to explain myself, his voice as cheerful as his expression. “Really excellent. Those two triple Salchows back to back, and then that ending sequence—you’ve obviously been training for a while. How have I not seen you on the competitive circuit before?”
I blinked at him, my brain not quite processing the compliment. Did he even know what he was talking about? He’d recognized the jump, so he obviously knew something about figure skating.
But Coach Balakin had always complained that I didn’t achieve quite enough height, the angle of my arms looked clumsy. It wasn’t likely all that had gotten fixed during the two-day drive to Canada.
“Thanks,” I said warily, pushing a little closer across the ice. I couldn’t shake the niggling sense that I should know who these two were…
Then the enthusiastic guy swept his lithe fingers through his smooth black hair, and a neon pink streak flashed beneath the rink lights.
I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open. I hadn’t fully recognized them at first because no part of my mind had been able to conceive of these two men actually being here.
But there was no mistaking them now that my brain had caught up.
“Oh my God,” I blurted out. “You’re Niko Okabe! And—” My gaze jerked to the grouchier, bigger guy next to him. “Jasper St. Pierre. Wow.”
I snapped my mouth shut before I could babble any further, my cheeks flushing hot. I must have sounded like the ditsiest fangirl.
But I was a fan of both of them—I’d admired their routines from various championships more than once, glued to my TV screen.
Niko Okabe was known for his boldness both on and off the ice. He skated to music the judges raised eyebrows at, incorporated moves from other disciplines that raised those eyebrows even higher, and pulled it all off so well they couldn’t help giving him top marks anyway.
In interviews, he never shied away from acknowledging his culturally controversial interest in both men and women. He refused to let anyone put him in a box.
How could Inotadmire that?
And Jasper St. Pierre… Despite his bulky build, he was pure artistry in motion. No one could paint a picture like he did when he whirled across a rink.
Of course, he wasn’t making the prettiest picture right now with that stunning face of his getting increasingly grim.
He narrowed his stormy gray-green eyes at me. “Good job. You aren’t blind.”
Niko rolled his eyes at the taller guy and dipped into a jaunty bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“What are you doing here?” I couldn’t help asking.
Jasper folded his arms over his broad chest. “We should be asking you that. This is our ice time.”
My cheeks flared hotter. Somehow two of the world’s top skaters were training at this nice but admittedly rinky-dink arena in Nowhere, Ontario, and I’d gone and stolen their practice time.
I groped for the excuse I’d had ready, drawing myself a little straighter—though I couldn’t come close to matching even Niko’s height, skates or no. “I’m sorry. I found the door unlocked, and there was no one up front… I didn’t think it’d be any problem for me to skate.”
Niko waved off my concern and nudged Jasper with his elbow in what I took as a chiding way. “It’s perfectly fine. I appreciated the chance to watch that amazing display of skill.”
Right. He’d been saying something before about how great my routine had been. How well I’d performed it.
Hold up. Niko Okabe thoughtIwas amazing?
No. That possibility did not compute. He must simply be acting friendly, overdoing it a little to make up for Jasper the Grouch.
“I had to take a little break from practice, but I’m glad to get back on the ice,” I said, not knowing how else to respond, and then added quickly. “But I’ll get off now so you can have it.”
Jasper grunted as if my offer didn’t come close to making up for the offense I’d committed. As I glided over to the opening in the boards, he dropped onto one of the benches and pulled his skates out of a duffel bag.
Niko was still studying me avidly. “You still haven’t told us who you are. And why have you been keeping such a low profile? If you’d even entered the US national competitions, I’d have seen you.”
