Coach Lee cleared her throat just as I’d started to raise my hand to point at him. With my middle finger. “All right,” she said tightly. “Let’s focus. We just talked about this. We’ll have an agreement drawn up that you’ll need to sign, Jasmine. Other than that, practice will be six days a week, twice a day. Will that be a problem?”

It took every ounce of self-control in me to tear my gaze away from the idiot who had been just about to say something about my weight. I could feel my nostrils flare as I swallowed and focused back on the woman. “It’s not a problem.” She didn’t need to tell me we needed all the training we could get in with less than six months before the start of the next season. “What times?” I asked, my hand twirling my bracelet.

It was Ivan that answered as he shifted around on the bench. “Four hours at four in the morning at the LC, and a three hour workout at one in the afternoon.”

Shit.

That would only leave me four hours to work and that was going to be cutting it close, but I couldn’t quit. I wouldn’t. Maybe I could pick up a shift here or there too on my day off. I’d make it work. Somehow.

I managed to nod before I caught on to something he said. “You said at the LC. Are there going to be more practices somewhere else?”

Coach Lee didn’t even try to hide the glance she cast in Ivan’s direction. A glance that again put me on edge. I hated secrets and secret looks. I wanted to ask what those faces were for but decided to wait. Patience. I could be patient. If I tried really hard.

Luckily, she didn’t make me wait long. “You understand we’ve discussed your strengths and weaknesses before we asked you to join the team?”

“Yeah.” Did I like that they had talked about me? No. But it was part of it, and I couldn’t hold it against them. Before I’d gotten to this point of desperation, I would have done the same.

“You’re a strong athlete, Jasmine,” she started to say, and I made sure I had my armor on so I could handle whatever non-compliment was going to eventually come out of her mouth. That’s what coaches did. They tore apart all the things you were bad at and helped you try to fix them. At least that was the goal. “I’ve always thought you had an amazing amount of potential—”

A “but” was about to come out of her mouth. I could feel it. There was always a “but” when someone paid you a compliment.

Maybe it was just me.

I kept my face even, but it was a little harder than I would have wanted it to be.

“But there are things you can work on to take it to the next level, specifically your showmanship. I’ve spoken to Galina in the past, and she confirmed that you didn’t have a heavy amount of training in ballet. I think your skating would really benefit from it.”

When the hell had she spoken to Galina?

“We want you to take some one-on-one training with the instructor Ivan has used in the past to tweak a few bad habits—”

Bad habits?

“—and work on improving what’s already good but could be better. Apart from that, you will be taking lessons with Ivan at the same time. There’s always room for improvement. I’m sure you’re familiar with that.”

Was she saying that just to make me feel better about basically telling me that I had none of the grace that came from having a serious background in ballet? It wasn’t like I didn’t know that Ivan did. Karina had only taken figure skating lessons up until she was fourteen—which was how we had met—but she had focused on dance before and afterward. Plus, there was something really elegant and graceful about Ivan’s movements that could only come from a ballet instructor with a drill sergeant’s heart. He’d had the money. He could afford someone to teach him everything he needed to know.

My mom had been able to afford two group lessons a week for an hour each, so that’s what I had done for years. I wasn’t going to apologize for it. And I’d said I would do whatever I needed to make this work. So, all I said was, “Okay.”

The corners of Coach Lee’s mouth tightened for a moment before her expression went back to normal. “Good. I’ll call tomorrow and see what’s available so you can pick the times that work for you on your schedule. Ivan attends Monday and Saturday mornings from nine until eleven. Will that be a problem?”

It was, but I would have to make it work. I was going to end up quitting my job and stripping. Jesus Christ. “No, not a problem.” My stomach hurt for a moment, but I shoved it aside and focused on what was important. “I also take a Pilates class once a week to work on my flexibility. I’m planning on still taking it.”

“Good, keep doing that,” the woman replied with a slow nod.

I tried to put all my thoughts in order. “What do you want the season to look like?” I asked.

It was Ivan that answered. “We’ll do the Discovery Series, the Major Prix, nationals, and worlds.” He blinked. “We can skip the rest.”

I did the math in my head and swallowed back the nerves at the realization that would be seven different events we would be competing in. At least. Two or three competitions in the Discovery Series. Three in the Major Prix, if we made it to the final. Then one each for nationals and worlds.

Money. Money. Money. And more money.

But I didn’t even care. All the more chances to win.

Or fail, that negative-ass voice in my head whispered until I shoved it away. I needed to stop thinking that way. It hadn’t done me any good ever before, and it never would. I couldn’t get psyched out so early.

“Okay,” I got out with another nod, feeling this tightness in my chest that I didn’t love.

Coach Lee dipped her own chin down. “Now that that’s all sorted, can you start tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Fuck.

I was too worried about my voice being all high and pitchy and giving away how overwhelmed I was at what was happening, that I decided to keep my mouth shut and nod again. I was going to need to talk to my boss today. Holy shit.

“Is that it then? You don’t want me to do a tryout?” I asked, just to be sure.

“That’s it,” she confirmed. The expression on Coach Lee’s face wasn’t exactly a smile, but she looked… pleased. She extended her hand out in my direction, and I took it. “Good. Tomorrow we get to work then. I’ll schedule your physical today and let you know where to go and what time.”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed on an exhale, feeling this weight lift off my chest for all of a second before crashing back down. Feeling heavy, I pulled my hand back to my side and turned to where Ivan had been sitting the entire time. He hadn’t moved. His elbows were still on his knees, hands hanging loosely between his legs, and his attention was still on me. That long, blunt line of his jaw was set firmly, and it was an expression I’d seen enough.

I had a feeling it was one I was going to keep on seeing a whole lot of over the next year.

The next year. Shit.

I had told Coach Lee we could get past this, or at least put up with each other, and I wasn’t about to back down or take my word back. I wasn’t going to screw this up for myself. I could be the better person… and thinking about it like that put a smile on my face.

Hesitating for a just a moment, I extended my hand out toward him.

And it hovered there. For a second. For two seconds. For three seconds.

Three more seconds and I was going to slap him in the face.

Ivan was watching me in return as he stood up, going up to that full height that put him at an inch shy of being a foot taller than me… and he slipped his hand into mine for the first time ever.

His eyes met mine, and I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same thing.

Once—just once—years ago, I’d fallen badly after a jump. He had been on the rink with me at the same time. I’d been lying there on the ice, blinking up at the rafters, trying to catch my breath because even my brain had hurt after hitting the ice so hard. This bitch had skated up to me for some reason. And he’d stretched his hand out toward me, looking down at me with a smirk on his face.

I hadn’t been thinking. All I’d seen was a hand reaching out toward me, so I’d tried to take it. Like an idiot.

My fingers had probably been inches away from Ivan’s when he’d snatched his hand back, smirked even wider, and left me there. On the ice. Just like that.

Bitch.

So he could only blame himself when it took me a minute to close my fingers around his, giving him a look the whole time, expecting the worst. But nothing happened. His palm was cold and wide, and his fingers were longer than I’d expected. In all the years we’d gravitated around each other, we’d never touched except for the one Thanksgiving I’d spent at his family’s house and he’d sat beside me and had taken my hand during their prayer. We spent the whole three minutes squeezing each other’s hands as hard as we could, at least until Karina had kicked him under the table, probably seeing my fingertips going white.

If he was expecting me to say something, he was going to be waiting forever because there was nothing I needed to say to him. Okay, maybe I just didn’t trust myself not to say something stupid before we were too deep into this to go back. Apparently, there was nothing he needed to say to me either. Fine by me.

That was the good thing about figure skating. You didn’t have to talk to do it.