“Hey,” I told him, skating past.
“Hey,” he said, barely glancing at me. His gaze was on his feet, and as I watched, he tried another shuffle step that still wasn’t quite quick enough.
I winced. “You’ll get it by tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
I continued to skate, thinking of what I’d seen in the YouTube video last night. And what I’d seen as he’d stepped into the shower, too, as I skated past. A girl couldn’t help but check a guy’s ass out after she’d seen it naked. But my mind kept circling back to the fight and the vicious bite I’d seen.
“So,” I started as I skated close.
He automatically took my hand, pulling me close into dancing position. “What’s up?”
I put my hand in his, hesitating a moment. “I was just…you know, wondering.”
“About?” He raised his scarred eyebrow at me, and I stared at it, momentarily fascinated. Was the scar from fighting?
“Um, your fight. What made you do it?”
“My fight?” He looked confused for a moment, still setting his hands in position.
“You know.” I made a chomping motion with my teeth. “Your fight.”
He snorted, the look on his face going shuttered. “Do we really need to talk about this right now?”
“I guess not,” I said, though I was nosy and incredibly curious. And a little disappointed. We were friends, weren’t we? Didn’t friends talk with friends about this sort of thing? It must have been bad if they were making him come on the show when he was so vehemently opposed to it. Had the guy slept with Ty’s girlfriend or something? Called his mom names? What? The curiosity was bothering me, but I tried to steer the conversation into safer subjects. “So, more dancing?”
“More dancing,” he told me, sounding resigned. “For now.”
“Oh?” I glanced around, but Imelda wasn’t here, only our cameraman. “Where’s our choreographer? For that matter, where’s our costumes? Today was supposed to be dress rehearsal.”
“Apparently there was an issue with the costume department because another team’s costumes changed mid-week and had to be redone from scratch. That meant ours got delayed. Imelda ran off to go talk with the studio about it.” He shrugged. “You really want her hanging around, criticizing our footwork?”
“Nah,” I told him. “I just wanted to see what monstrosity she’d cooked up for us to wear. Most figure-skating costumes tend to be a bit on the flamboyant side, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said with a grin. “Which is why I always say—”
“—No sequins,” I finished for him, laughing.
His eyes warmed and the grin spread wider. “Exactly. I’m telling you right now, though, if it looks Liberace-inspired, I’m not wearing it.”
His smiles made me feel good. I placed my hand on his shoulder and told him, “If it’s Liberace-inspired, I won’t blame you.”
Ty clicked a remote in his pocket, and the music began to play. We started the routine, and I began to count steps aloud to try and help him move along fast enough to keep up with the music. By the time the chorus rolled around, we were a step behind. He cursed. “This fucking footwork is killing me.”
“It’s okay,” I told him comfortingly. “You’re doing awesome. And look on the bright side. Next week will be an entirely different challenge, but at least it won’t be footwork again.”
“Bright side.” He snorted, hit the button to turn off the music, and then looked over at me. “So what are you wearing tonight?”
I gave him a little frown. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”
“The network’s having a kickoff party. I was told all the regulars were invited and the celebrities. Didn’t you get an invite?”
Embarrassment swept through me. I stepped backward, pulling out of his arms. “I guess not. I’m not really a regular, you know. I’m just a fill in for Svetlana.” And what a way to remind me. Ouch. This one was going to leave a mark for a long, long time. I tried not to let it bother me, even though I couldn’t help but get depressed.
A kickoff party for the show, and I hadn’t even been invited. Man. That was cold. It did teach me something important, though—that I didn’t count to the network.
“Aw, hell. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Zara. I thought everyone was invited.”
I forced a bright smile to my face. “Hey, it’s okay. Not your fault. I’ll just stay here and practice.”
“Hell, no.” Ty set his jaw. “You’re going to go as my date.”
Well, if there was one thing I was learning about Ty, it was that he was loyal…and constantly full of surprises. “You want me to go as your date? Really?”
“Really.”
I had a funny little flutter in my stomach. Anxiousness? Something else? “They’re letting people bring dates to the party?”
He gave me a wicked look, and put his hand on my waist again, drawing me in for more dancing. “I’m not going to ask.”
Oh no. That was not good. Being a party crasher wasn’t smart if I wanted to be hired permanently by the network. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Ty.”
“They want me on their show? They’ll let me bring a date.” His hand clasped mine firmly. “Now. Shall we try this again?”
~~ * ~~
A few hours later, we were still a step behind the music, but making progress. We’d left practice early to prepare for the shindig, and I’d showered and toyed with my hair nervously for the past hour. I hadn’t packed anything super fancy, but I did have a little black dress. Years of last-minute tweaking on costumes had made me handy with a needle and thread and last minute alterations. I managed to tear the back and sleeves off and changed it to a slip-dress with an open back and no sleeves. I had hair ribbons (what good ice skater didn’t carry a batch of hair ribbons?) and used a few of those to add a splash of pink to my neck as a decorative choker. It wasn’t super dressy, but it’d do. I had a pair of black sling-backs that I always packed and slipped those on, focusing my attention on my hair and makeup. If I did them well enough, no one would notice that my dress was a little on the casual side.
I fixed my hair into loose waves that spread over my shoulders and back. It was so dark brown that it was almost black, and it was layered so that it hung in sexy waves when I decided to let it out of my uptight bun. I lined my eyes and put on smoky eye shadow and mascara, and I curled my lashes to make my eyes bigger. Satisfied, I finished the look with a slick of nude lip gloss. The woman that stared back at me in the mirror was still tiny, but she had a hint of sultriness to her. My eyes—and naked back—looked sexy. At least no one would think I was fourteen tonight.
Ready, I left my room and headed into the living room of the cottage where Ty was waiting for me. I was surprised to see him in a gray suit—and a little dismayed. “How formal is this party?”
“Does it matter? It’s too late to change anyhow.” He gave me an up and down look, as if appraising my outfit.
“Hey,” he said, barely glancing at me. His gaze was on his feet, and as I watched, he tried another shuffle step that still wasn’t quite quick enough.
I winced. “You’ll get it by tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
I continued to skate, thinking of what I’d seen in the YouTube video last night. And what I’d seen as he’d stepped into the shower, too, as I skated past. A girl couldn’t help but check a guy’s ass out after she’d seen it naked. But my mind kept circling back to the fight and the vicious bite I’d seen.
“So,” I started as I skated close.
He automatically took my hand, pulling me close into dancing position. “What’s up?”
I put my hand in his, hesitating a moment. “I was just…you know, wondering.”
“About?” He raised his scarred eyebrow at me, and I stared at it, momentarily fascinated. Was the scar from fighting?
“Um, your fight. What made you do it?”
“My fight?” He looked confused for a moment, still setting his hands in position.
“You know.” I made a chomping motion with my teeth. “Your fight.”
He snorted, the look on his face going shuttered. “Do we really need to talk about this right now?”
“I guess not,” I said, though I was nosy and incredibly curious. And a little disappointed. We were friends, weren’t we? Didn’t friends talk with friends about this sort of thing? It must have been bad if they were making him come on the show when he was so vehemently opposed to it. Had the guy slept with Ty’s girlfriend or something? Called his mom names? What? The curiosity was bothering me, but I tried to steer the conversation into safer subjects. “So, more dancing?”
“More dancing,” he told me, sounding resigned. “For now.”
“Oh?” I glanced around, but Imelda wasn’t here, only our cameraman. “Where’s our choreographer? For that matter, where’s our costumes? Today was supposed to be dress rehearsal.”
“Apparently there was an issue with the costume department because another team’s costumes changed mid-week and had to be redone from scratch. That meant ours got delayed. Imelda ran off to go talk with the studio about it.” He shrugged. “You really want her hanging around, criticizing our footwork?”
“Nah,” I told him. “I just wanted to see what monstrosity she’d cooked up for us to wear. Most figure-skating costumes tend to be a bit on the flamboyant side, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said with a grin. “Which is why I always say—”
“—No sequins,” I finished for him, laughing.
His eyes warmed and the grin spread wider. “Exactly. I’m telling you right now, though, if it looks Liberace-inspired, I’m not wearing it.”
His smiles made me feel good. I placed my hand on his shoulder and told him, “If it’s Liberace-inspired, I won’t blame you.”
Ty clicked a remote in his pocket, and the music began to play. We started the routine, and I began to count steps aloud to try and help him move along fast enough to keep up with the music. By the time the chorus rolled around, we were a step behind. He cursed. “This fucking footwork is killing me.”
“It’s okay,” I told him comfortingly. “You’re doing awesome. And look on the bright side. Next week will be an entirely different challenge, but at least it won’t be footwork again.”
“Bright side.” He snorted, hit the button to turn off the music, and then looked over at me. “So what are you wearing tonight?”
I gave him a little frown. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”
“The network’s having a kickoff party. I was told all the regulars were invited and the celebrities. Didn’t you get an invite?”
Embarrassment swept through me. I stepped backward, pulling out of his arms. “I guess not. I’m not really a regular, you know. I’m just a fill in for Svetlana.” And what a way to remind me. Ouch. This one was going to leave a mark for a long, long time. I tried not to let it bother me, even though I couldn’t help but get depressed.
A kickoff party for the show, and I hadn’t even been invited. Man. That was cold. It did teach me something important, though—that I didn’t count to the network.
“Aw, hell. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Zara. I thought everyone was invited.”
I forced a bright smile to my face. “Hey, it’s okay. Not your fault. I’ll just stay here and practice.”
“Hell, no.” Ty set his jaw. “You’re going to go as my date.”
Well, if there was one thing I was learning about Ty, it was that he was loyal…and constantly full of surprises. “You want me to go as your date? Really?”
“Really.”
I had a funny little flutter in my stomach. Anxiousness? Something else? “They’re letting people bring dates to the party?”
He gave me a wicked look, and put his hand on my waist again, drawing me in for more dancing. “I’m not going to ask.”
Oh no. That was not good. Being a party crasher wasn’t smart if I wanted to be hired permanently by the network. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Ty.”
“They want me on their show? They’ll let me bring a date.” His hand clasped mine firmly. “Now. Shall we try this again?”
~~ * ~~
A few hours later, we were still a step behind the music, but making progress. We’d left practice early to prepare for the shindig, and I’d showered and toyed with my hair nervously for the past hour. I hadn’t packed anything super fancy, but I did have a little black dress. Years of last-minute tweaking on costumes had made me handy with a needle and thread and last minute alterations. I managed to tear the back and sleeves off and changed it to a slip-dress with an open back and no sleeves. I had hair ribbons (what good ice skater didn’t carry a batch of hair ribbons?) and used a few of those to add a splash of pink to my neck as a decorative choker. It wasn’t super dressy, but it’d do. I had a pair of black sling-backs that I always packed and slipped those on, focusing my attention on my hair and makeup. If I did them well enough, no one would notice that my dress was a little on the casual side.
I fixed my hair into loose waves that spread over my shoulders and back. It was so dark brown that it was almost black, and it was layered so that it hung in sexy waves when I decided to let it out of my uptight bun. I lined my eyes and put on smoky eye shadow and mascara, and I curled my lashes to make my eyes bigger. Satisfied, I finished the look with a slick of nude lip gloss. The woman that stared back at me in the mirror was still tiny, but she had a hint of sultriness to her. My eyes—and naked back—looked sexy. At least no one would think I was fourteen tonight.
Ready, I left my room and headed into the living room of the cottage where Ty was waiting for me. I was surprised to see him in a gray suit—and a little dismayed. “How formal is this party?”
“Does it matter? It’s too late to change anyhow.” He gave me an up and down look, as if appraising my outfit.
