When I look up, Victoria is laughing at something Sloan says, and I wonder if they’re talking about me.Not that I care.
Victoria waves to her new friends, then comes over and joins me on the team bench, wearing a smug little smile.
“What’s got you so happy?” I ask, crossing my arms.
She shrugs innocently, blinking. “Can’t a girl just be happy for no reason?”
“Yeah, right.” I narrow my eyes, trying not to get sucked into those grey pools of hers.
“Was it something those girls said?” I nod toward Jaz and Sloan, who are watching us like we’re on a reality dating show. The only difference is this one feels more like a game ofSurvivor.
“They invited me to girls’ night,” she says, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
“You mean a glorified gossip session with bottomless guacamole?”
“Pretty much,” she says, not even hiding her glee. “Don’t worry, I won’t spread any rumors about you.” She stands to stretch her legs in the open space near the bench.
“Who said I care?” I shrug. “I’ll be at Boots and Buckles with the guys.”
“Is that a restaurant?” she asks.
“Somebody doesn’t get out much.”
She rolls her eyes. “Between skating practice and my other job, I don’t have time to waste.”
“It’s hardly a waste. Boots and Buckles happens to be the best country bar around, complete with line dancing and karaoke. I’m not much for the entertainment, but their wings are so good you forget how bad the singing is.”
She smirks as she shifts her position to stretch her hamstrings.
“Where do you live now?” I ask, taking her cue and bending over into a toe-touch stretch, which is harder than I want to admit. “A nice penthouse your dad pulled some strings to get you?”
Everyone knows the housing market around here is impossibly tight. That’s part of the reason I rent a room at Sloan and Jaz’s. Her dad probably found her a place in some elaborate high-rise near Charleston.
She mirrors my position, easily reaching for her toes, showing off her impressive flexibility. “I wouldn’t let my parents help me. And Bellgate was my only option.”
I blink as I straighten my body. “Bellgate? The place that looks like it’s held together by duct tape?”
She shakes her head. “Bellgate gets a bad rap, but it’s perfectly fine. My next-door neighbor, Delilah, bakes me brownies, and I feed her bird when she goes to see her sister in Nebraska. Though, honestly, the bird’s manners leave a lot to be desired.”
I frown. “You expect a bird to have good manners?”
“Well, he’s got a foul mouth, thanks to his previous owner. So I never know if I’m going to get a cheerful ‘hello’ or if he’ll swear like a sailor.”
She’s got to be kidding. “You’re telling meyoulive in a building where a bird cusses at you and half the people are probably on America’s most wanted list?”
She laughs, then tugs her elbow behind her head. “It’s temporary. Just need to find a new sponsor or win a championship. Until then, I’m coaching children at the university skating rink on Saturdays.”
I raise an eyebrow. Sounds like she’s desperate for money, which her parents could easily solve. “No plans to find a fellow skater to sweep you off your feet, then?”
She shakes her head as she switches arms. “Hardly. I have a rule: I don’t date people in the industry. Even though some have been...persistent.”
I try not to think of these privileged jerks hitting on her. I grab my ankle and stretch my legs. Since college, I’ve only dated a few women—and only casually. I like to think of myself as incredibly selective, but the truth is more complicated. I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be let down, to have someone you trust make choices that leave scars. Tina’s decision left me with more than just a bad memory—it gave me the kind of baggage that makes me hesitant to take a risk on people. So now, I keep things light. If you don’t let someone in, they can’t leave, right?
Victoria links her hands behind her back and stretches out her arms. “Who says I even want to date anyone? I’m perfectly happy on my own.” She tips her chin and looks away, telltale signs she’s bluffing. “I could use more fun in my life, and Jaz and Sloan are just the people to show me how.”
“Because I’m not capable of fun?” I challenge.
“You?” she asks, stopping mid-stretch to frown at me. “Leo, people who are fun know how to look like they’re actually enjoying life instead of channeling their inner Grumpy the dwarf.”
