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I can still hear her soft breathing.
“You should give me ten minutes since you never showed up at the party,” I say. “Why are you up this late?”
“Because I’m—” She hesitates for a few seconds, and I’m convinced she’s moments away from hanging up on me.
“I can’t sleep.” Her tone is slightly softer. “I’m sitting in bed looking at my last performance and taking notes. Turns out, even with a perfect score, there are still some things I could’ve done better.”
“That’s the downside of wanting to be the best.”
“Yeah, tell me about it…”
Neither of us says a word as I dress for the gym and grab my bag.
“Why areyoustill up?” she asks.
“I needed to take an ice bath before my workout.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting since you just fought?”
“I can’t afford to rest at this stage in my career.” I lock my door and head down the staircase. “I can’t afford to lose a single match.”
“You’re undefeated?”
“I always will be.” I smile. “Whenever I make it to the UFC and become number one in the world, I probably still won’t rest.”
“Well, wheneverI’mnumber one in the world, I plan on traveling to an exotic resort for a month-long vacation.”
“Are you planning to have a second job by then?” I raise my eyebrow. “Figure skaters don’t make that type of money last time I checked.”
“Screw you.” She bursts into laughter, turning me on even more. “You never know what could happen.”
“You’re right, I take that back.” I cross the street and walk toward the SportsPlex. “Tell me everything your stepsister said about the afterparty.”
She launches into a recap of things that definitely didnothappen, but I don’t bother setting the record straight.
I scan my stolen badge at the front door and walk inside the building.
In the midst of Tatiana describing her stepsister’s obsession with “taking a selfie with anyone who has a chance of getting famous,” I hear classical music playing on the lower level.
Confused, I take the steps down to the plaza and spot Tatiana. She’s standing alone near the edge of the rink, holding the phone up to her ear.
Dressed in an all-grey tracksuit, she’s twirling her curls with her fingertips and tapping the tip of her blade against the ice.
“Wait a minute,” I interrupt her recap. “Didn’t you say that you’re currentlyin bedlooking over your performance notes?”
“I am. Why?”
“Because I must be watching your doppelgänger at the SportsPlex right now. Maybe I can get her to give me a chance instead of you.”
She immediately looks up from her phone. Then she turns around and spots me, looking as if she wants to disappear.
Amused, I walk toward her.
“You can put your phone down now,” I say. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She tosses it onto an empty seat. “Does one small lie make me a liar?”
“No, but your denial that you want me does.”
