Chapter 8
No Animosity
The next practice was quieter, more subdued than usual. Neither Emery nor Ryder spoke much as they skated across the ice, their movements filled with the heavy tension of unspoken thoughts. The friction between them was palpable, like a storm waiting to break. Yet, somehow, despite the clash of their attitudes and styles, there was an undercurrent of something else. Something neither of them was willing to acknowledge—at least not yet.
Emery was working on a new jump combination, her focus intense, as always. Her concentration was everything to her, and she barely noticed Ryder skating nearby, running his drills with the same aggressive energy that made him so maddening. She tightened her grip on the edge of the rink as she began her turn, muscles straining, pushing herself harder with each movement. The air felt cold against her skin, but she was too absorbed in her routine to care.
That was until she heard a sudden skidding sound, followed by a loud whoosh of air.
Before she could react, Ryder—apparently too focused on his own drill—lost his balance. His skates slipped, and he tumbled, arms flailing. Emery barely had time to register what was happening before he collided with her.
She gasped as their bodies collided, both of them crashing to the ice with a thud. For a second, the world felt like it had been flipped upside down. Ryder's hands ended up gripping her waist for balance, and her instinct kicked in, pushing him off her as she scrambled to sit up.
The rink was silent for a moment as they both blinked in shock. Emery's heart raced as she stared at Ryder, whose face was flushed with embarrassment. He quickly pulled himself to his feet, offering her a hand, but she declined, brushing herself off quickly, trying to hide the small flush creeping up her neck.
"Really?" Emery scoffed, trying to make light of the situation. "I didn't know this was a hockey game. You okay, Captain?"
Ryder winced at the jab, but to her surprise, a chuckle escaped from him. The sound was awkward at first, like he didn't quite know how to handle the situation either. But it was enough to break the tension, just enough to shift the dynamic between them.
"I'm fine," he muttered, brushing off the dust from his jacket, though he couldn't quite hide the smirk that was tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know, you're a lot harder to knock down than you look."
Emery raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her cool despite the sudden flutter in her chest. "I've been skating my whole life. I don't fall that easily."
"I'm sure," he teased. "Guess I'll have to be more careful next time."
For a second, it seemed like the usual animosity between them was back, but then, for reasons neither could explain, something shifted. Instead of glaring at each other, they both burst into a rare, awkward laugh. It wasn't the usual tension-filled bickering or sharp words. This was different—lighter, almost... friendly.
Emery stood up, dusting herself off, and shot him a look that was half playful, half annoyed. "You better watch where you're going next time. I'm not planning on making that a regular occurrence."
Ryder's smile softened, a real, unguarded smile. "Yeah, yeah. Noted."
They stood there for a moment, the awkwardness hanging in the air. Neither of them knew exactly what had just happened, but the strange moment of vulnerability had shifted something between them. The simmering frustration that had defined their relationship before wasn't gone, but it was tempered now, mixed with something else—something neither of them had the words for.
It wasn't just dislike anymore. There was an undeniable chemistry beginning to form. It was subtle—almost unnoticeable—but it was there, in the way their eyes lingered a little too long or how they both seemed a little less eager to throw barbs at each other.
Ryder cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So… want to try that combo again?"
Emery gave him a pointed look, still trying to regain her usual composure. "You mean, me trying my combo, and you staying out of the way?"
Ryder raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin wide. "Hey, I'm just here to help. I'm a team player."
"Right," Emery said with a smirk, rolling her eyes. "Let's see how long that lasts."
As she began to glide across the ice again, Ryder watched her for a moment. There was something different in the way she moved now—less rigid, more free. The awkwardness of the fall had somehow melted away, leaving behind an unspoken truce.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he joined her on the rink, skating just a little slower than usual, as if he was letting her set the pace. It wasn't much, but it was enough to shift the dynamic between them, from enemies on the ice to something… more uncertain.
As Emery executed her jump, her mind was finally free of the sting of their previous argument. There was a certain rhythm to their practice now, an unspoken understanding that they could coexist—maybe not perfectly, but at least without wanting to throttle each other at every turn.
Ryder, for all his bravado and competitive spirit, watched her with more respect now. She was precise, graceful in a way he could never quite replicate, and despite his earlier words, there was something about the way she skated that intrigued him.
The chemistry was undeniable, and though neither of them wanted to admit it yet, it was beginning to change the way they saw each other.
As the practice came to a close, neither of them made a move to leave the rink immediately. They lingered, skating circles, avoiding the tension that had been their trademark. For once, there was no animosity. No jabs.
Just the two of them, together on the ice, sharing space in a way neither could have expected.
But deep down, both knew that this wouldn't be the last time they'd clash. The road ahead would still be full of friction, but perhaps, just perhaps, that friction was starting to spark something else.