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Off the Edge

Page 45

by Ariana Nash

If my father knew he’d been here, if someone had seen him waiting outside and word got back to him . . . his Olympic dream would be over. The drug test had been a warning. “Look, I can reach him. Do as I say. Do not see him, do not talk to him.”

I pulled a hand down my face and looked at the deflated couch cushions where we’d lain. Well, I’d definitely seen Cam, and definitely talked to him.

I needed to control this. Control myself.

I gathered up my shirt and trousers and tugged them loosely on. By the time he came out of the shower, it didn’t look as though anything untoward had happened between us.

He went straight to his coat and pulled out the phone. “Shit, I have to go.”

I nodded and kept myself at the opposite end of the room. “Yes, of course, good luck . . . tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you too.” He pulled his coat on and ran his hands through his wet hair, sweeping it back, only for it to fall forward again. “So, uh . . . this was good, right?”

I swallowed and nodded again, losing my voice.

“Oh-kay . . .” His smile cracked. “Will you watch me tomorrow, on the ice?”

I breathed in, sighed. “No.” I caught the rest of his smile falling off his face and looked away. “I don’t spectate on competition day.”

“Sensible.” His voice had hardened, cooling off. “I guess I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Probably not.”

I hated those words, hated that I had to say them, right after being intimate with him. Hated myself. I crossed my arms and stared down at the carpet.

I didn’t see his face, didn’t want to. I knew it would break my heart and my resolve. I had to keep him at arm’s length, at least until after the Games. We only had a few more days to go. He could hate me, think me an asshole, like he’d said to his friends. None of that mattered. He had to survive to be able to compete.

“Be careful when you leave,” I said. “Make sure nobody sees you.” I knew what he’d think—that I was ashamed of what we’d just done. He could think that; it would be easier if he did.

I looked up.

I shouldn’t have.

His expression had been pulled into a mask of ice. I almost didn’t recognize him. He was never without his smile. It always played on his lips. But it was gone now. His blue eyes were cold. He stood motionless, and defiant.

“You sure know how to make someone feel used, Ren.”

I gritted my teeth, keeping the hurt locked behind them. “Please go.”

He turned and headed for the door. After opening it, he hesitated, then said over his shoulder. “Fuck you too.”

I’d earned that.

The door slammed. I winced.

And he was gone.

I closed my eyes and sighed, stilling hugging myself. I had to get ready. I had interviews too. All of this, everything that had just happened, I needed to block out. Bury it deep, or my heart would break. And this was not the place or time for emotion. That place was on the ice during the free dance. Two days from now.

After that, all of this would be over.

All of it.

TWENTY

CAM

I’d done it again.