Chapter 1
The Start
Emery Vaughn glided across the smooth, chilled surface of the rink, her focus solely on the upcoming routine. The sharp screech of blades against ice and the rhythmic sound of her breath were the only sounds she needed. This was her sanctuary, the place where the world seemed to pause, where she could drown out everything except her own pursuit of perfection.
But as she entered the rink's lobby, something felt… off. The usual buzz of fellow skaters preparing for their sessions was replaced with an uncomfortable hum of whispers. Emery furrowed her brow as she stepped into her skates, adjusting the straps with precision.
"Hey, Emery, did you hear?" Her best friend and fellow skater, Chloe, approached her with a wary glance. "They've double-booked the rink tonight."
Emery's heart skipped a beat. Double-booked? That meant there was someone else sharing her ice time. But no one was supposed to be here at this hour—this was her time. The rink had always been hers in the evenings. She'd carved out this slot for months, her routine carefully planned. No interruptions.
Chloe's eyes darted toward the rink entrance. "And I think you're not going to be happy about it."
Emery followed Chloe's gaze, and her pulse quickened when she saw him.
Ryder Kessler.
The name rang a bell, but she'd never had the displeasure of meeting him in person. Ryder Kessler was the captain of the local hockey team, a cocky, arrogant player whose name was synonymous with swagger and controversy. The sort of guy who was more about the thrill of the game than any sort of discipline or technique. And now, he was standing at the far end of the rink, his muscular frame clad in his hockey gear, arms crossed as he surveyed the ice with that trademark smirk.
Emery's annoyance bubbled up before she could stop it. Of all the people who could have shown up to share her precious practice time, it had to be him—the poster child for hockey arrogance.
She marched toward the rink, determination set in her eyes, while Chloe trailed behind her. "You have got to be kidding me," Emery muttered under her breath. She wasn't going to back down. This was her chance to finally perfect the jumps she'd been struggling with for weeks. She didn't need any distractions.
Ryder noticed her approach, his expression never changing. As she reached the rink's edge, he gave her a half-lidded glance. "What's the matter? Did they tell you you're not skating tonight?" His voice was laced with mockery.
Emery's teeth clenched. "I'm not leaving."
"Oh, really?" He leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "That's too bad, because they're making me share the ice too. And we're both supposed to be here now." His tone was far too smug for her liking.
Her fists tightened at her sides. "You're a hockey player. You don't need the whole rink. I have an actual routine to practice." She tossed the words at him like an accusation.
He took a step forward, meeting her gaze head-on. "Well, sweetheart, it's my rink too. They're not going to move me, so get used to it."
The nerve of him. "You've got to be joking," she said, incredulous. "You've got an entire team. You can't just practice somewhere else?"
Ryder laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a wave of irritation through her. "And you think I'm just going to leave because you want your precious little routine to go uninterrupted?" He circled her as if sizing her up. "Maybe you should've gotten here earlier. That's what real athletes do."
Emery's face burned. She had no idea why his words bothered her so much, but they did. There was something about his cocky attitude that made her want to prove him wrong.
"I'll take the ice time I'm here for, and you can figure out what to do with your team," she snapped back. "This is my practice."
A challenge sparked in his eyes. "Fine. You can have it. But you're going to learn pretty quickly that hockey's a hell of a lot more intense than whatever fancy twirls and jumps you're doing out here."
The words hit harder than expected. Emery felt the sting of his criticism, but she refused to back down. She turned sharply toward the rink and stepped onto the ice, ignoring the tension in the air. The cold greeted her like an old friend, but Ryder's presence loomed like an obstacle in her mind.
She couldn't let him get under her skin. Not now. Not when her dream of qualifying for the national championships was at stake.
But as she began her warm-up, her every movement seemed sharper—more deliberate. As if Ryder's very presence was pushing her to skate better, to prove him wrong. Still, his taunting words echoed in her mind. She had to show him that figure skating was more than just fancy twirls.
Across the rink, Ryder finally took his position. His skates scraped against the ice, and Emery couldn't help but watch the way he moved with the fluidity of a seasoned pro. He wasn't just a cocky jock—he was skilled. His powerful strides across the rink showed a level of control that reminded her of her own discipline. But she wasn't about to admit that to him.
She set her jaw and skated harder, pushing herself to perform her spins with more precision. The final leap—a jump she'd struggled with—needed to be flawless. Emery knew that if she just focused, she could get through this.
But Ryder's eyes never left her.
When she landed the jump with a satisfying thud against the ice, she glanced up at him. His smirk was gone, replaced by an unreadable expression. It wasn't praise, but it wasn't mockery either.
Emery exhaled, relieved. Maybe—just maybe—she had earned his respect.
But before she could catch her breath, the rink manager, Mr. Bellamy, stepped out from the shadows, clipboard in hand.
"Alright, you two," Mr. Bellamy said, his tone less than pleased. "We need to figure out how we're going to share this time. I'm not having another conflict like this, understood?"
Ryder and Emery both shot him a glare at the same time, and for a brief moment, the tension between them felt like a live wire ready to snap.
"How about we just take turns?" Ryder suggested, his voice still carrying a hint of mockery.
Emery's eyes narrowed. "I'm not waiting for him to finish his laps."
"Well," Mr. Bellamy said, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "how about this, I'll let you both have equal time, but you'll have to work together on certain exercises, for the benefit of both of your performances."
Emery stiffened at the suggestion, her heart sinking.
"Together?" she repeated, a frown forming.
"Yes," Mr. Bellamy replied. "You'll be training together from now on. Work on each other's strengths, and try to work out some of your weaknesses."
Ryder's grin returned, full of cockiness. "Looks like we're stuck with each other, Vaughn."
Emery wanted to protest, to argue, but something in her gut told her this was going to be the start of something unexpected. She wasn't sure if it was a rivalry, a partnership, or something else entirely. But one thing was certain: their worlds were colliding in a way neither of them had anticipated.
And there was no going back now.