Page 66 of Hate You Most

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

Viktoriya laughed and pushed ahead, then turned sharply into a spin. It wasn’t as fast as it once would’ve been, but it was clean and her head wasn't hurting. When she came out of it, Dakota was clapping at her slowly—mockingly.

“Show-off,” Dakota said.

Viktoriya skated closer, stopping just short of colliding with her. “Ah, you liked it.”

Dakota cracked a smile. “I do.”

The words landed heavier than either of them acknowledged.

They drifted apart again, skated lazy laps around the rink. The kind of skating that Viktoriya never allowed herself because it wasn't controlled and it wasn't perfect. It simply was—and somehow that was enough for her when Dakota was her only audience.

Viktoriya tried a small jump, then another, landing both cleanly. Her confidence grew with every complete jump.

“How long did we skate after the Olympics?” she asked.

Dakota thought for a moment. “We both did smaller international competitions. You were staying in Russia, and I never left America. So we only met a few times a year, for a few hours at a time. Until 2019.”

“And then?”

“And then we stopped,” Dakota said. “We both got injuries that prevented us from competing. We had both won gold at the Olympics. We didn't need to do the rivalry anymore, you know.”

Viktoriya nodded, even though she didn’t understand it. Not really.

She skated backward again, watching Dakota this time—how carefree she looked. Dakota had always been expressive on the ice, even now, even without choreography or an audience. Her movements were loose and playful.

“You’re flirting with me,” Viktoriya said, almost accusingly.

Dakota laughed. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

Dakota shrugged, skating closer. “Force of habit.”

Heat rose in Viktoriya's cheeks, and she pushed off quickly, pretending to focus on the turn. Her heart raced, and it wasn't just because of the spin.

They came to a stop near the boards, leaning against them, breathing hard.

“After I retired,” Dakota said, staring out over the ice, “I thought about opening a rink, or a training center. Something smaller, where I could train young kids and give them that same feeling I get when I'm on the ice.”

Viktoriya turned toward her. “You would be good at that, yes.”

“I wouldn’t want to do it alone,” Dakota admitted. “It would have to be with you.”

Viktoriya smiled without thinking. “I would love it.”

Dakota went very still.

Viktoriya noticed immediately. “What?”

Dakota hesitated. “That would mean… going public with our relationship.”

“Ah,” Viktoriya said. For a moment, she had completely forgotten. Forgotten the headlines and the cameras. Forgotten the recognition that came with being her and the quiet calculations she’d been making her whole life.

She looked back out at the ice, at the freedom of it, and then reality settled back in her bones.