Chapter 7
Unexpected Emotions
The rink was quiet now, the lights dimming as the last few skaters finished their sessions and began to trickle off the ice. Emery was still there, working through the final stretches of her routine, but her movements lacked the usual precision. Her thoughts were elsewhere, swirling around the argument with Ryder. She couldn't get his words out of her head.
"Maybe if you didn't take your sweet time with every move, you'd actually get somewhere."
It grated on her. His criticism wasn't new—people had been dismissive of her style before, especially athletes from other disciplines who didn't understand the intricacies of figure skating. But Ryder's words had struck a nerve in a way that was hard to explain. Maybe it was the sheer audacity of it—the way he'd acted like he knew what was best for her when he clearly didn't understand the first thing about the sport.
She groaned, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes, as if she could push the frustration out of her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the memory of Ryder's cocky smirk, his mocking tone. He was arrogant, insufferable, and—most annoyingly—challenging her in a way no one ever had.
But as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't deny the spark he ignited in her. Every heated exchange, every jab, only seemed to fuel a deeper reaction inside her. It wasn't just anger she was feeling; it was something more complicated. Something she didn't quite understand.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of skates cutting across the ice. She looked up, surprised to see Ryder still on the rink, practicing his own drills. He was moving quickly, his body slicing through the air with powerful, fluid movements. There was a raw energy in the way he skated—like he was channeling everything, all of his anger, frustration, and whatever else into the speed of his strides.
It was impressive.
Emery frowned. She couldn't help but notice the way he moved, the precision in his own form. Despite their differences, there was something undeniable about the way Ryder controlled the ice. He had power, confidence, and a certain… grace, despite the rawness of his approach.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she immediately forced herself to look away, determined not to admit that part of her appreciated his skill. She hated how much he'd gotten under her skin.
Ryder, too, wasn't able to escape his thoughts. After the argument, he had gone through the motions of his practice, but his mind kept drifting back to Emery. She was so different from anyone he'd ever met—so stubborn, so determined, and so… sharp. Her words had cut through him in a way that made his chest tighten with something he couldn't quite name.
Her precision on the ice had challenged him, too, something about it throwing him off his rhythm. He was used to using force and speed to dominate, but with her, it felt like he had to be more. He had to be smarter, more controlled. And that… that made him madder than he cared to admit.
But then there were her eyes—those fire-filled, blazing eyes. Every time they clashed, it was like there was something deeper there. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was as if she were daring him to see something more than just the rivalry between them.
He shook his head, trying to focus on his movements, but the thoughts kept circling. Every time she threw a sharp retort, it was like a little spark ignited inside him, and no matter how much he hated it, it was hard not to notice.
Ryder took a deep breath as he skated through another drill. He wasn't used to being this distracted. He prided himself on his focus, but with Emery, it was different. She was everything he wasn't: precise, disciplined, and controlled. She made him question everything he thought he knew about skating—and maybe even about himself.
At some point, Ryder realized he was skating slower, his pace faltering. He couldn't seem to shake the image of her fiery face from his mind. The way she challenged him. The way her eyes flashed when she got mad.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, coming to a stop in the center of the rink.
He stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, and ran a hand through his hair. His muscles were sore, his body tired from the exertion of practice, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off her face. How much he wanted to see her—really see her—outside of this ridiculous competition they had built between them.
Was it just frustration? Was it all about proving who was better on the ice?
Or was there something more there? Something neither of them was willing to admit yet.
Emery stood at the edge of the rink, watching him. She could feel her heart rate quicken, and she hated how much it unnerved her. She wasn't supposed to care about what Ryder Kessler thought of her. She wasn't supposed to let him affect her this much. But despite her best efforts, the fact that he had gotten under her skin was becoming undeniable.
She could still hear his voice in her head, his mocking tone, his casual arrogance. And yet… there was something else. The way his intensity radiated when he skated. The passion. It was almost like… he was pushing himself just as much as she did.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and before she could stop herself, she found her feet gliding toward the center of the rink.
Ryder turned at the sound of her skates, his gaze locking with hers for the briefest of moments. It was only for an instant, but in that brief connection, something shifted.
Neither of them spoke at first. The air between them felt electric, charged with everything unsaid. The argument from earlier seemed so distant, replaced by something more complicated, something neither of them could quite name.
Without a word, they both began skating again, but this time, the atmosphere was different. It wasn't the same clash of wills they had been battling earlier. Instead, it was quieter. More intimate. Both of them, despite their differences, understood what it was like to push themselves to the limit, to make sacrifices for something they loved.
They might not have realized it yet, but that mutual understanding was beginning to bridge the gap between them.
For now, though, the silence lingered. They skated past each other, the sound of their blades cutting through the ice the only thing filling the empty rink.
But neither of them could ignore the unexpected emotions stirring just beneath the surface.