Chapter 178

I should have been embarrassed that I was all over him, but I was smirking and high on the feeling that we'd managed the complicated change in hold so seamlessly. I slid down him into the next hold that would be a spin on the ice. His arms were back as a counterbalance, but I slid my hand over his jaw. Lukas’s eyes darkened as he spun.

We came out of that spin and went right into the following lift. It was going to be a lot on him, but he'd yet to even tremble in practice. I knew Coach Avery was having him do a lot of strength training to be sure he could handle it. His hands grabbed my thighs and lifted me high over his head, tumbling me up onto one hand. I held still, trusting him before he lowered me, setting me down and falling into step with me, taking my lead, in sync with every leap and twirl. His gaze locked on mine, so intense it felt like a current passing between us. My breath hitched, caught by the hunger in his eyes.

I smirked, twirling away, imagining that this had to be what Odile had felt when she'd ensnared the prince. We felt utterly spellbound as we swept into the next section of choreography, executing side-by-side spins into another gliding lift.

He was meant to end in a series of jumps, and I was supposed to be in a compound spin before we rejoined. It would be easier on the ice, but the approximate Madame Lila worked out for us to feel the timing had Lukas and me face-to-face right as the song ended.

I was breathless. His face was flushed, and the blue of his eyes was barely a ring around two deep dark pools.

“Better,” Madame Lila said, sounding actually pleased. “Much better, Winters. Now we can start fine-tuning, starting from the top. No music, we'll go at my count and make adjustments."

Heat flushed my cheeks, but I nodded and we started again, working through where she wanted changes. I notice she was making changes that would make the piece technically harder, but also more expressive.

She drilled us repeatedly. The heat that had been humming in my blood before. By the end, I was breathless, trembling, and not just from exertion. Lukas’s shirt clung to him, sweat dripping down his temple, but his eyes were still locked on me like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

A few days went by without much fanfare. We all went to practice, classes, dinner, over and over again. Today was the first walkthrough day. The morning air was crisp when Ben, Lukas and I stepped out of the townhouse together, gym bags slung over our shoulders. We rode in silence to campus. I tried to keep my nerves in check, but they were getting the better of me. This was the first day of walkthroughs, and there was no telling what could go wrong.

The rink’s glass doors reflected the bright morning sun as we approached. The buzz of conversation was already heavy in the air. The second we pushed through the doors, the laughter of the hockey team echoed down the corridor.

Jean-Baptiste was with them, casually leaning against a column, arms crossed, his sharp suit exchanged for the standard athletic wear. His gaze flicked up, immediately finding us, lingering just a moment too long on Ben before he smirked.

Lukas’s jaw clenched. He shifted slightly, putting himself closer to Ben without even breaking stride. “Come on,” he murmured, and the two of them veered toward the male locker room.

That left me alone.

I swallowed the knot of unease and ducked into the female locker room. The space smelled faintly of lavender cleaning spray and damp fabric. A few skaters were already inside, chatting as they tugged on leggings and pinned their hair back.

I changed quickly, pulling on my tights, sliding my feet into my skates. My bag hung heavily on my shoulder. For a moment, I considered leaving it in one of the lockers, but something about the unsettled tension prickling in my chest made me hesitate. I didn't have a lock, and there was no sense in testing my luck, not with Celeste around.

I slung the strap higher and walked back out, heels clicking softly on the tile until the cool air of the rink hit me. Coach Avery was just coming down the stairs. His usual steady smile in place as he carried his notebook stuffed with pages, tucked under one arm. Relief loosened my shoulders at the sight of him.

“Morning, Vandy,” he called with his usual warmth. "I've been hearing some great things about this super secret routine…"

I started toward him, but another figure stepped into the path. Coach Randall headed him off. His Boston U windbreaker was zipped up to his throat, his expression all tight lines and forced cordiality.

"You must be Avery,” Randall said, extending a hand. Coach Avery didn’t hesitate to shake. “Didn’t expect to see you here. It's nice to meet the second choice."

But Coach Avery only chuckled, easy as ever. “Good to meet the one who wanted the job!" Coach Randall faltered at Coach Avery's inexhaustible cheer. "Hope the little rascals aren't giving you too much trouble."

"No. Not at all. You're here because…"

"I've got skaters in the game, of course!" He patted him on the shoulders. "We'll keep out of your way. Don't know why they did it this way, but running regular practice in the midst of walk-throughs has got to be rough."

Coach Randall blinked, thrown off by the lack of defensiveness, before Coach Avery passed him, coming to meet me near the lower seats.

Coach Avery sank into a seat and took my bag. Then, the sharp scrape of blades announced skaters spilling out onto the ice.

“Coach Avery!” one of the older girls called, skating over with a grin. “You came back!”

Two others followed, chiming in with laughter, questions tumbling over one another. “You here to whip us into shape again?”