Page 18 of Hate You Most

“Yeah,” Dakota said softly. “I figured.”

They were standing too close now. Viktoriya hadn’t noticed herself moving until Dakota’s breath was warm against her cheek.

“You aren't going to stop talking with me now, are you? Because I could understand if you'd want to do that.”

“No,” Viktoriya said, shaking her head. “I couldn't do that, you're the only good competition.” A beat passed before she corrected herself, pulling the conversation back to something safer. “I mean—on the ice,” she added. “No one else is close enough in the technical scores. Right now, it's just you and me.”

Dakota had her hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it and flee if this conversation became too much for her. It was already too much, this entire conversation had been overwhelming and confusing.

“I think you should leave,” Dakota said, her hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it. Without thinking, Viktoriya leaned forward and grabbed Dakota's wrist.

She liked the feeling of Dakota's hand in hers, even though it was at an odd angle and they weren’t even holding hands. The thought terrified her slightly. She liked a lot of things about Sanchez. She liked the way her floral perfume seemed to overtake every room she entered and the way her pale green eyes reminded her of spring and warmth.

“Why? Do you not want me here?” She had no idea why, but after that sentence left her lips, Viktoriya leaned forward and kissed her rival.

She had no idea what she was doing. Should she be kissing Dakota the same way she had been kissing men? Should it be different, somehow?

She was a famous gold winning figure skating champion, kissing another famous gold winning figure skating champion. Her mind went quiet and all she cared about in that moment was that Dakota's lips were on hers, kissing her back. Her lips were soft, she moved her hand and placed it firmly on Viktoriya's side.

The two broke apart and Dakota whispered into her ear. “I do. I do want you here.”

With those words hung in the air between them, Viktoriya pressed herself against Dakota, her hips grazing against hers. It was euphoric, and entirely different from kissing a man in the best way possible. It was softer. Viktoriya lost herself in the taste and feel of Dakota.

They broke apart once more, breathing heavily. Dakota looked into her eyes and let out a laugh. At that moment Viktoriya recognized the significance and risk of what she had just done. She'd just kissed the one person that could take the medal from her. There was no one else that was as much of a threat as Dakota was. What the hell was she doing?

They stood inches apart. Dakota was pressed up against the hotel door.

“I should go,” Viktoriya said, her Russian accent so thick that she wondered if Dakota had understood what she had tried to say.

“Oh,” Dakota said. “Okay.”

They stepped back from each other, the space between them widening. Viktoriya wiped her lips on the back of her hand and erased the kiss.

She took a deep breath in, then moved past her rival and turned the doorknob. She left without looking back.

In the hallway, her phone buzzed.

Sanchez

For what it’s worth—I meant what I said. You skated well today!

Viktoriya didn’t reply, but she didn’t delete the message either.

CHAPTER FIVE

November 11th, 2011.

— Viktoriya’s Family Apartment. Moscow, Russia.

Viktoriya turned eighteen on a Monday.

There was a cake, and she was given new skates and competition dresses. Other than that, the day passed the way most days did—practice in the morning, conditioning in the afternoon.

November 12th, 2011.

— Viktoriya’s Family Apartment, Moscow.

Her mother cornered her in the kitchen, phone already in hand.