Chapter 3
Worthy Opponent
The following evening, Emery stood at the edge of the rink, staring at the pristine ice. The Zamboni had just finished smoothing over the surface, and the quiet hum of the rink felt almost unnervingly peaceful. The rink was supposed to be her sanctuary, a place where the world fell away, and all that mattered was the rhythm of her movements, the feeling of the glide.
But now, it felt different. The tension in the air was thick, crackling with unspoken animosity. She hadn't expected the weight of it, but the presence of Ryder Kessler had a way of doing that. She could already feel the energy shift as he skated toward her, his powerful strides cutting through the ice with a grace that defied his size.
"Ready to lose?" Ryder's voice was light, teasing, and as arrogant as ever. His cocky smirk only added to the simmering frustration building in her chest.
Emery turned to face him, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She was here to work, not to argue. "I'm not here to lose, Kessler. I'm here to skate."
He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Yeah, I can tell. But don't get too comfortable. You might be able to glide gracefully, but I doubt you can handle speed."
She narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to snap at him. "Speed isn't everything."
"Oh, it's definitely something," Ryder replied, flashing a quick, competitive look. He didn't wait for her to respond, already picking up speed as he skated in a wide circle, his body cutting through the ice with effortless power.
Emery's gaze followed him, watching his form, every movement precise but raw. He was fast, but it was almost like a bulldozer on skates—no finesse, just strength. She couldn't deny that it was impressive, but it also felt… unrefined, clumsy in comparison to the fluidity and grace of her own routines.
When he came back around, she gave a pointed nod, finally stepping onto the ice. "Well, let's see if you can back up that big talk."
Without waiting for his response, she glided effortlessly into a series of intricate spins, her body moving with practiced precision. She felt the familiar comfort of the routine as she twirled, her blades cutting through the ice with perfect control. She could hear Ryder's movements behind her, his skates scraping loudly against the ice as he tried to keep up, but she refused to let his presence affect her focus.
Emery's heart raced as she completed a triple spin, landing gracefully on her skate. She hadn't lost her touch—she was in control, and this was her element.
But when she looked over at Ryder, he was waiting for her, his expression smug. "That was cute. But speed makes a difference, you know."
Emery clenched her jaw. "Speed doesn't make you a better skater, Kessler. It's all about control."
Ryder scoffed, skating circles around her, his movements sharp and quick. "Control, huh? Well, I bet you wouldn't last a minute in a game. It's about pushing yourself past the limit, not just playing it safe."
A flicker of irritation passed through her. "You think I play it safe? You don't know anything about figure skating."
"Maybe I don't, but I know a lot about pushing boundaries," he retorted, his tone dripping with superiority. "You wouldn't last a second in a game like mine."
Emery's eyes flashed. She wasn't used to being talked down to, especially by someone like him. "And you wouldn't last a second in a competition like mine."
The two of them locked eyes, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to thrum with unspoken challenge. It wasn't just about skating anymore—it was about proving who was better, who could dominate. The competition had shifted from sports to something deeper, something personal.
Ryder didn't break the stare. Instead, he broke into a fast, fluid sprint, his powerful strokes eating up the ice as he raced away from her. Emery hesitated for a second, caught in the sting of his words, but then pushed herself forward, forcing her mind to focus.
She couldn't let him get to her. Not now.
As she glided smoothly, pushing herself to catch up, Emery could hear Ryder's laughter ringing in her ears—taunting, loud, and full of that confidence she had come to hate.
She wasn't about to let him get away with this. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much. She had to show him that she wasn't just about pretty jumps and spins.
Without thinking, Emery pushed off harder, speeding up and gliding past him with a sharp, calculated move. She heard Ryder's surprised grunt as she cut ahead, a flash of victory coursing through her veins.
"Not bad for a figure skater," Ryder called, his voice tinged with disbelief. "But let's see if you can handle this."
Without missing a beat, he leaned forward, throwing himself into a dramatic hockey maneuver, his body crouched low as he shot forward with a burst of speed.
Emery's heart rate spiked. His moves were reckless, but they were powerful. She could feel the rush of adrenaline as she tried to keep up, matching him stride for stride, each turn and twist calculated. Her skates slid smoothly over the ice, but Ryder's sheer strength was something she couldn't ignore. He was relentless.
But what he lacked in finesse, she made up for with precision.
As they raced side by side, neither willing to yield, the tension between them crackled. The rivalry was no longer just a clash of skills—it was a contest of wills, each of them determined to prove they were the best.
When they finally skated to a stop at opposite ends of the rink, both were breathing heavily, their faces flushed with exertion. Ryder looked at her, his smirk returning, but there was something else in his eyes now—respect, maybe, or the beginning of it.
"Not bad," he admitted, his voice rough. "You've got some speed in you after all."
Emery, struggling to catch her breath, managed a tight smile. "You're not so bad yourself."
But even as they exchanged those begrudging words of acknowledgment, Emery knew one thing for sure—this was far from over. She had learned one thing tonight, Ryder Kessler was a worthy opponent. And that only made her want to beat him even more.