Ink and Ice Erin McRae (general ebook reader TXT) 📖

He was met by various nods and verbal assents. Zack was touched and little overwhelmed by the support. He cleared his throat as he packed his skates back in his bag. “Thanks. All of you. I don’t have a plan yet, I haven’t had a chance to think about it. But I’ll take apartment leads if you have them.”

“Great!” Matt stood up, hefting his own hockey bag, and slapped Zack on the shoulder. “We’re all going out for drinks tomorrow night, you’re gonna come, right?”

“Definitely.” Maybe it was just how the Twin Cities treated all comers in need of a home, but Zack was folding back into the pleasant routine of life here as if he’d never left. After the ordeal of the holiday, it was a balm to his soul.

Zack had every intention of getting back to his car, driving back to Marie’s house, and sleeping for several more hours before he embarked on work for any sort. But as he made his way down the hallway between rinks, he passed the conference room with the door ajar. Glancing in, he saw Nikolai, one of the junior men’s skaters, fiddling with a laptop projecting something on a screen at the side of the room, Katie was beside him scrolling through something on her phone.

Nikolai glanced up and, catching Zack’s eye, waved. Katie looked up and gave him a nod. Zack waved back, ready to keep walking and get back to his car—and his bed—as soon as possible, but then he noticed what was playing on the screen: A figure skating competition.

He stopped; he couldn’t help himself. “Is that the Grand Prix Final?” he asked from the doorway.

“It is!” Nikolai said brightly. “The ladies finished about an hour ago. Charlotte came in third! Chiemi Maeda won, of course. Men’s free skate is just about to start.”

Katie just gave a terse nod of acknowledgement, now typing rapidly on her phone. Zack had no idea who Chiemi Maeda was, and made a mental note to read up on skaters from other disciplines.

Nikolai bounced on the balls of his feet, evidently excited. “Do you want to stay and watch?”

Zack had already stepped inside the room without consciously realizing it. “If I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all!”

A few more people trickled into the room as the zamboni on the screen finished its resurfacing. Evidently they’d been here to watch the women skate as well and had just been taking a break; bags and coats were piled in the back of the room, which Zack noticed when he went to set down his own gear.

“They’re starting, they’re starting!” Nikolai called, and all at once the volume of chatter in the room dropped as people gathered around the screen.

For all the time Zack had spent around elite competitive figure skaters, he hadn’t yet watched a competition alongside them. St. Petersburg was on the other side of the planet, but Zack felt like he was experiencing the tension and excitement firsthand, channeled through the other skaters.

Katie kept herself slightly separate from the other skaters, phone now clenched tightly in her hand. Between skaters, she paced the length of the room. When someone was on the ice, she stood as if transfixed, her eyes glued to the screen. Zack could feel the tension rolling off of her. She was absolutely freaking out.

Zack couldn’t blame her. Some of the kids in the room talked in between skaters, comparing rankings and season’s best scores and how much room there was or wasn’t for the remaining skaters to medal. He wished they wouldn’t; he was nervous enough for Aaron without the ongoing reminders that his most likely placement was fifth or sixth...in a field of six.

“Katie,” he called between skaters.

She whipped around sharply, as if displeased to have her pacing interrupted.

“Do you want to sit with me?” He asked on a whim. He tried to make his voice as gentle as possible. “We can do breathing exercises together.”

“He’s not your problem anymore,” she said even as she drew closer to him. “But he’s still mine.”

“I know. I’m not making it about him. I’m making it about you.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“I know it feels like you’re going to die,” he said softly. He didn’t know why this was suddenly so important to him, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He was entangled with these people whether any of them liked it or not. “And I know you can’t change that. But come on, I have experience with this type of misery. We can be panic buddies. Just for right now.”

“Okay,” she said, grudgingly, taking a seat next to him on the floor. “Just for right now.”

Chapter 23

THE GRAND PRIX FINAL - Men’s Free Skate

Saint Petersburg, Russia

AARON hated skating last. Skating last meant more time waiting, stressing out, and exerting every possible effort to keep his nerves under control. Skating last at the Grand Prix Final was even worse. Huy and Aizat were top-five world skaters; Aaron had never made it to the Final before and didn’t even feel like he was in the same league as them. No one had travelled all the way to Saint Petersburg to see him skate. Half the audience, he suspected, was here for Huy alone. And no one, after seeing Aizat’s show-stopping program, would care what Team USA’s Aaron Sheftall had to offer.

Then you’ve got nothing to lose, he told himself as he got ready to take the ice. He unzipped his jacket and handed it to Brendan, then slid off his skate guards. No title to defend. No reason not to show them all of who you are.

Aaron’s nerves evaporated as soon as his blades met the ice. Maybe it was his own cliched pep talk; more likely it was the feel of the ice under his blades. This was where he was meant to be. This was what he had trained for. This was what he was meant to do.

Aaron took his starting position, took a breath and—as