Chapter 27: Rinkmates: Chapter 27

Life has gotten insane over the last few weeks.

Between Riley’s home games, press conferences, and strategy sessions, I’ve barely seen him in person—just snippets on screen and hurried conversations we managed to squeeze in between my own interviews and training sessions. Nina kept our social media alive, digging up old photos for posts and stories because we were too caught up to take new ones to show the world we’re alive. I was so busy, I had barely time to eat or even talk to Mom. We usually spend hours talking on the phone but my schedule is wild.

The Falcons advanced to the second round of the play-offs, and I couldn’t be prouder of Riley for handling everything without getting sucked into drama with Houston. There were even rumors of dropping the lawsuit altogether. Meanwhile, Priya and I made it to the next round of the show too. Aiden and I plan a rockabilly dance routine next. But honestly, it was all starting to wear on me. Balancing the demands of the show day after day was exhausting.

And while the jury seems mean on screen, it’s nothing compared to how they treat us behind the camera. They often comment on our looks and dictate what we should wear according to our shape. Grace’s unsolicited advice about not wearing see-through dresses because they accentuated my ass too much hit a nerve. I’ve always been sensitive about my figure, especially as a figure skater where physique matters. I thought I left this behind in Beijing. But with the end of May approaching, the pressure only intensified, making me more self-conscious each day.

But hey, the weekend sounds promising.

Aiden flew out to visit his mother, and with Riley’s team unexpectedly wrapping up the second round of play-offs faster than anticipated, he, too, finds himself with a few days to spare. We agree to catch up over lunch, so I make my way to the arena where the Falcons train. The minute I step into the arena, the familiar cold hits my face, but I’m so nervous to see him that no matter how cold it gets in here, I’ll be burning up inside. I go straight to the locker rooms, but before entering, I stop. I can’t just go in there. It’s full of guys and they could be naked and—

The door opens and Colton comes out. I step back, already apologizing for clogging the door.

“Hey.” That’s all he says.

“Hey, um, where’s Ri?” I could already slap my own face for asking such a stupid question, but it’s out. I let it go.

He raises an eyebrow and points behind him.

Wow, so much for a conversation. “Could you maybe—”

“Go in,” he says and turns around to leave.

I yell after him, “Do you really think it’s okay for me, though?”

He’s already at the end of the corridor when he gives me a thumbs-up without even turning around to look at me. I huff out a grunt and decide to just do it. What will happen? I’ll see naked guys? Well, I’ll survive it.

I burst into the locker room and the first thing I see is hockey gear strewn about and that scent of sweat and ice hits my face like a slap. Instantly, towels are snatched up and hands scramble to cover body parts. The room turns into a view of asses. Lots of asses. I cover my face and want to bust out again before I hear his unmistakable voice.

“Hey, there she is,” Riley calls out.

Without really thinking, I find myself standing on my toes and giving him a soft kiss. But then, I’m taken aback by how easily I kiss him, like it’s meant to be, and my stomach drops. Oh no. It shouldn’t be like this. We’re supposed to have a fake relationship. Sure, we had a moment where things got out of hand and he fingered me, but I really need to get my head straight. “Sorry,” I whisper, trying to pull away, but he gently pulls me back, deepening the kiss.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting for that kiss.”

My cheeks turn pink.

He winks at me. “To be honest, I thought you’d wait for me outside, but I like how you go to full lengths to find me.”

He only has a towel around his waist and his hair is wet, fresh out of the shower, giving him this scent of something musky and lemon. I just stare at his chest, his stomach, his tattoos. Help. He’s close.

But from one ogling moment to the drooling next, all I hear is, “Hey, are you coming to the party tonight?”

I blink and blink again, spotting Derek leaning against the locker to my right.

Trying to banish the image of Riley’s abs from my mind, I focus on forming a coherent sentence. To manage a normal conversation, I grip Riley by the hips and move him to the right, putting Derek in front of me.

Sweet Jesus, Riley feels so damn good.

“What party?” I ask, blocking that naked guy on my right out, but he moves into my vision again, his expression turning serious as he shakes his head at Derek.

“No,” Riley says. “Don’t you dare—”

Derek jumps in to speak. “Ah, it’s a little tradition,” he starts and leans against his locker casually. “It’s a secret party that only happens when we make it to the semis.”

“Yes, exactly. Secret, Der,” Riley grunts out.

“A secret party? That sounds fun,” I say and notice Riley rolling his eyes.

“No, it’s not, trust me.”

Derek leans into my space, his hand cupping my ear as he whispers, “It’s legendary. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”

Riley shoots Derek a stern look. “We’re. Not. Going.”

I look up at Riley. “Why not?”

Riley hesitates for a moment, his gaze locking with mine. “It’s just…I mean, we talked about taking it easy this weekend,” he began, his voice trailing off slightly. “This isn’t just like any party it’s—we could just chill at home?”

“And how often does a secret party like this come around?” I counter, already knowing the answer. “I like parties.”

“Not parties like this,” he says through clenched teeth as he tries to tell me something. But I don’t get it. It would be a nice distraction.

Derek chimes in. “Come on, Riley. It’s tradition.” Derek’s grin widens.

Riley glances around at his teammates, who watch our conversation with amused interest. He lets out a sigh, conceding defeat with a lopsided grin.

“Come on,” I say. I think a party would be perfect to forget all the stress.

“Fine. But we’re making it an early night.”

“Deal,” I agree. “Can I bring Priya?”

“You don’t want to. Trust me,” Riley says. “It’s nothing she’d like. Now let’s get some food.”

He vanishes to get dressed and I try to get some answers about the party from Derek, but he says he’s not allowed to talk about it. What happens there, stays there.

When Riley comes back, I try my luck with him, but all he says is, “You wanted to go. So, I’ll treat you just like any other guest. But you can still back out, of course.”

“I won’t.”

“Well then, smarty pants, I’m here for the moment you say I was right, and you regret it.”

He takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world and walks out with me, never letting go even when we’re in a deserted corridor where no one can see us. That’s when my phone buzzes, and seeing the name makes my heart race with excitement.

“Um, just a second, okay?” I hide the phone screen from him, noticing his curious glance. “I need to take this call.”

“Everything okay?” he asks as I step away, trying to keep my smile under control.

“Yeah, just family.”

As soon as I’m out of earshot, my heart leaps with joy as I answer the call.

Riley’s gaze bores into me from across the table, his brow furrowed with concern.

“That’s all you’re having?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

I shrug, poking at a cherry tomato with my fork. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Lia, you need to eat more than just a salad. You’ve been training hard, you need the energy.”

“I’m fine, really.” I force a smile, but it feels strained on my lips.

Riley leans forward, his whiskey eyes searching mine. “Is everything okay? You seem…off a little.”

I avert my gaze, focusing on spearing a piece of lettuce.

How could I tell him that Grace’s words had burrowed under my skin like parasites, feeding on my insecurities? That every bite feels like a step closer to losing everything I’ve worked so hard for? What are some shitty days when I can live a happy life after, right? I’ve been cutting the calories for two weeks now and I’m glad it shows. It’s just for now. I’ll be fine. No one said media business is easy.

“I’m just stressed about the competition, that’s all,” I say, shoving the lettuce into my mouth. It tastes like cardboard on my tongue.

Riley doesn’t look convinced, but he lets the subject drop as the waiter returns with his steak. The savory aroma wafts across the table, making my stomach grumble traitorously. I sip my water, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger. The rest of the meal passes in a blur of conversation and barely touched food. As we walk to Riley’s car, the cool night air nips at my exposed skin, making me shiver. Riley drapes his jacket over my shoulders without a word.

Once we were on the road, Riley clears his throat. “Lia, be honest with me. Have you lost weight?”

My heart stutters in my chest. “Yeah…I’ve been cutting back a bit.”

Riley’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Why?”

I swallow hard. Why does he wanna know?

“Why? Tell me, Lia, please, I beg you, tell me why you would treat your perfect body like this.”

“Grace said…she said if I don’t slim down, I’ll get voted off. That I’m too sexy for the show.” It’s hard to tell him, and even harder that I have to repeat what she said.

The car jerks to a sudden stop.

Tires screech against the pavement.

I grab the dashboard to steady myself, my heart racing.

“Riley, what are you doing?” I say.

He doesn’t answer, his jaw clenched tight as he throws the car into drive again. “Taking care of this,” he grounds out. His eyes flash with barely contained fury as he speeds toward…toward the studio?

“Ri. There’s a speed limit.”

“I’m aware.” He doesn’t slow down.

“Ri. Stop it. Let’s get home and get dressed for the party. I’m fine. Really.”

He doesn’t answer and his jaw tics.

Fear coils in my gut like a snake.

What is he going to do? Confront Grace? The producers? No. Please no.

They’ll fire me.

Terror seizes me at the thought of losing my spot on the show, my chance to make everything right again.

I want to scream at him, do something, but I’m too stunned to move. I can’t tell if I’ve been sitting here in silence for too long or if the restaurant was actually this close to the studio, but suddenly, the car screeches to a halt. He parks right at the entrance and storms out before I can even unbuckle my seat belt.

Shaking, I slam the door shut and scramble to follow, my heels clicking rapidly against the pavement as I try to keep up with his long strides.

“Riley, wait!” I call out. He can’t be serious. I just lost a few pounds, nothing much. I’m eating enough, just less fat and carbs for a bit.

Why would he be this angry? I just don’t understand.

But he doesn’t slow down, his broad shoulders taut with tension as he bursts through the corridors and the open-space office. The black carpet floor and the white walls blur in my vision as I try to catch up. Hold him back. But I’m too slow and he barges into the producer’s office, the door banging against the wall with a resounding crack.

I don’t know what he says to them, but as I run up behind him, he’s just standing there, rigid. I can’t tell if my mind is playing tricks on me or not, but I swear I can see his pulse pounding in the center of his neck.

I find Grace and the other judges gathered with our producers and directors around a gray round table cluttered with papers. Behind them, a paused video of yesterday’s show fills the screen. They all look up in surprise, eyes widening at Riley’s furious gaze. Grace’s eyes flicker with a strange emotion when she spots me standing behind him, utterly shocked.

“If I hear one more comment about Liora needing to lose weight, I’m going public with everything that’s happened behind the scenes of this show,” Riley snarls, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I can make our text messages go viral in seconds. You have contestants and judges that are toxic, and requirements that are from the eighties. Liora’s perfect. She’s your best skater, and you’re going to lose her if you keep up this bullshit. It’s the first season. Be wise and make it to a second.”

Grace opens her mouth to protest, but Riley cuts her off with a sharp gesture. “No. I want you to apologize. Liora is perfect the way she is, and if you can’t see that, then you’re the ones with the problem. Not her.”

Silence falls over the room, heavy and thick with tension.

I stand frozen in the doorway, my heart racing as I watch Grace open and close her mouth like a guppy.

“You told her to lose weight?” a producer turns to Grace, and I see her shift in her seat, swallowing her red lips.

“I didn’t call her overweight. She isn’t. Her curves are just gathering an audience we don’t want.”

“Says who?” Riley barks out.

“The comments on each of her videos,” Grace says, but the way she looks makes me believe she actually regrets what she’s said to me.

“Well, then be happy someone is interested in your show. That could change. Especially once they hear how toxic the work environment is,” Riley says.

Grace stays silent.

“This isn’t acceptable,” the director says. “We’re sorry about this, Miss James.”

Riley nods to Grace. “Go on, apologize, or we’re out of here.”

My stomach drops. He can’t say this to her. No.

Finally, Grace nods stiffly. “Understood, Mr. Huntington.” She then looks to me. “I’m sorry, Miss James. It won’t happen again.”

Riley gives a curt nod, his eyes still blazing. “Good. See that it doesn’t.”

He then turns on his heel and stalks out of the office, leaving me to hurry after him once more, but hell, I’m fuming. Tears sting at my eyes, and I don’t know what to say, but I’m ready to kill this man.

He had no right to do this.

I can feel Grace’s wrath brewing. She’s going to make sure I regret this at the next show. I just know it.

Riley gets in the car, but I keep walking on the sidewalk, determined to take the subway. There’s no way I’m getting in that car. He crossed a line—no, he jumped over it and soared far beyond. Grace is going to hate me for this, and she’ll never forget it. I’m only three shows in. The money I’ve earned so far isn’t nearly enough.

I just can’t believe he did that.

Riley drives alongside me, the window rolling down. “Get in,” he barks out.

“No.”

“I said get in.”

“I said no.” Idiot.

I keep walking, straight ahead.

“Liora, I don’t even know why you think you should be angry with me, but I beg you to get in my car.”

Okay, fine. He asked for it. I can’t hold back any longer. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I burst out, my voice shaking. “What if they fire me now? You had no right to interfere like that, Riley!”

His whiskey eyes are molten with intensity. “They’d be idiots to fire you. You’re their star. And I’m not going to sit back and watch them tear you down. Not now, not ever.”

I shake my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “It wasn’t your fucking place. As if they’re going to drop this! They are probably writing me out right now! Planning on getting rid of me!”

“It’s a live show. They can’t.”

“Oh, you have no idea what they can do. Of course there are scripted parts.”

“Get in.”

“No!”

“If they fire you, I’ll kill them.”

“Great! And what do I do then? Huh?” I scream, leaning into the open window. “I don’t have a trust fund! I don’t have any money! I have what I came here with! That’s all! I need this show, Riley!”

He blinks. “I will give you the money.”

I throw my head back, laughing bitterly. “Oh, of course you will. The man with all the money in the world will just give me a million dollars. How generous of you. What am I to you, Riley? Your whore? I won’t take a cent from you.”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn!”

“Stop getting your nose in things you shouldn’t! You’re my FAKE boyfriend, not my real one. You have no right to act like this. Are you out of your mind?”

A heavy silence stretches between us. I think I see hurt in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by an angry frown.

“Fine,” he says, driving off.

I stomp my way to the subway.

After a long FaceTime session, I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, turning from side to side as I examine my reflection. The lingerie I’d bought on a whim some years ago hugs my curves, the cheap lace barely concealing my skin. It looks good. And that’s what I need for tonight. To feel good. The party is just perfect for this.

On my angry stomp home, Nina called and sent over a contract, stating that Riley would cover all my expenses if his interference got me fired.

I combed through the fine print, and it wasn’t a trap—no strings attached. Just a legal apology.

Nina managed to calm me down a bit, but I still believe Riley overstepped. I overstepped, too, when I talked to his coach, but Riley has a contract. His coach can’t fire him like that, and he knows it wasn’t Riley shouting but me. Grace will think I didn’t have the guts and sent Riley instead, like he’s my bulldog. That’s a huge difference. Or maybe it’s not. Shit. I don’t know anymore. I think Riley and I have lost track of where we stand. What we are. Maybe we need to cut it. Maybe we shouldn’t go to this party after all, even though I desperately need a distraction.

But I want to go to this party. I want to talk to other people. Talk about something other than Riley, the show, my past.

I just want to have fun for a couple of hours.

I bite my lip, suddenly unsure.

Is the lace too much? Does it look cheap?

I snap a photo, and it looks good, but it’s not like anyone’s going to see it tonight anyway. I put my outfit on, and I’m glad my bra doesn’t show, but I still have a weird feeling. I want to look good tonight.

I need a second opinion.

Before I can second-guess myself, I snap another quick photo and send it to Priya.

Liora: Is this okay?

I hit Send before I can change my mind. But as I stare down at my phone, my heart stops. The message didn’t go to Priya. It went to Riley. And I didn’t send the pic with the dress. It’s the pic of me in my lingerie.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I frantically try to delete it, but my fingers are suddenly shaking as I tap at the screen. And it’s too late. He saw it.

My phone buzzes in my hand, startling me so badly I almost drop it.

With a sense of impending doom, I read the text.

Puckster: Lia.

That was all it said. Just my name. But somehow, I can feel the weight of unspoken words behind it.

Before I can respond, another message pops up.

Puckster: You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Because it’s working.

A surprised laugh bubbles up in my throat, a blush heating my cheeks. I can picture the look on Riley’s face, the heat in his eyes as he stares down at the photo. My thumbs hover over the screen, my heart racing as I try to decide how to respond. This is dangerous territory. And I’m still mad at him.

Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it? I hit Send before I can lose my nerve.

Puckster: Why are you wearing such nice lingerie anyway?

Okay, he thinks it’s nice. Imma wear it.

Liora: For the party.

Puckster: You still want to go?

Liora: Sure. I promised to meet Derek.

It takes several minutes and blinking dots until he finally answers.

Puckster: No.

Liora: What no?

I feign ignorance, still grinning like an idiot.

Puckster: Sorry, but there’s no chance anyone is seeing you in that tonight.

Liora: Don’t be so sure of it. I’m out for blood.

Puckster: I’m your fake boyfriend and we have rules. We stick to the rules.

Liora: Bossy. Meet you in five.

I dress to kill: knee-high boots, a black miniskirt, and a white blouse that shows off my cleavage.

I’m not exactly proud of it, but when I stomped back home, I couldn’t resist stopping at a tiny dress shop after catching a glimpse of it in the window. I haven’t bought much for myself over the years, but I just had to have this outfit.

My hair falls sleek over my shoulders as I head out. But when I see him, the joke is on me because he looks so hot that I have to swallow—hard. The way I want this man. It’s not healthy anymore.

He leans against the wall in black jeans and a fitted black shirt, showing off all his muscles as he adjusts his watch. Shit. Black suits him so well.

There’s a cocky smirk on his lips, so I brace myself.

“I texted Derek,” he says as I approach.

“Oh?” I reply, striding to the door and making sure I swing my hips more than enough. And I’m pleased with the way he looks at me. Like he wants to devour me.

“He never said he’d meet you there.”

“Oh, about that.” I grin, swaying toward the elevator. “I just wanted to see how you’d react. Also, I still hate you, so don’t think your good looks will charm me—it’s not working.”

He winks. “It is.”

“In your dreams.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Well, you are in them.”

“Careful, you’re sounding like you care,” I retort, giving him a once-over. Why does he smell so good? This isn’t fair. I planned on giving him the cold shoulder, but all I want to do is take that stupid hair and pull him in and kiss him. “But I have to give it to you, you clean up nice. Almost like you’re trying to impress someone.”

He presses the elevator button. “You know, for someone who hates me, you’re awfully invested in my wardrobe.”

“Just making sure you don’t embarrass me. Let’s go, pretty boy.”