From Lukov with Love

I MADE it three days before the text messages started one afternoon while I was trying to finish warming up before our afternoon session. I had gotten to the LC later than usual and had gone straight to the training room, praising Jesus that I’d decided to change my clothes before leaving the diner once I’d seen what time it was and had remembered lunchtime traffic was a real thing. I was in the middle of stretching my hips when my phone beeped from where I’d left it on top of my bag. I took it out and snickered immediately at the message after taking my time with it.

Jojo: WHAT THE FUCK JASMINE

I didn’t need to ask what my brother was what-the-fucking over. It had only been a matter of time. It was really hard to keep a secret in my family, and the only reason why my mom and Ben—who was the only person other than her who knew—had kept their mouths closed was because they had both agreed it would be more fun to piss off my siblings by not saying anything and letting them find out the hard way I was going to be competing again.

Life was all about the little things.

So, I’d slipped my phone back into my bag and kept stretching, not bothering to respond because it would just make him more mad.

Twenty minutes later, while I was still busy stretching, I pulled my phone out and wasn’t surprised more messages appeared.

Jojo: WHY WOULD YOU NOT TELL ME

Jojo: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

Jojo: DID THE REST OF YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME

Tali: What happened? What did she not tell you?

Tali: OH MY GOD, Jasmine, did you get knocked up?

Tali: I swear, if you got knocked up, I’m going to beat the hell out of you. We talked about contraception when you hit puberty.

Sebastian: Jasmine’s pregnant?

Rubes: She’s not pregnant.

Rubes: What happened, Jojo?

Jojo: MOM DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS

Tali: Would you just tell us what you’re talking about?

Jojo: JASMINE IS SKATING WITH IVAN LUKOV

Jojo: And I found out by going on Picturegram. Someone at the rink posted a picture of them in one of the training rooms. They were doing lifts.

Jojo: JASMINE I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER EXPLAIN EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW

Tali: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IS THIS TRUE?

Tali: JASMINE

Tali: JASMINE

Tali: JASMINE

Jojo: I’m going on Lukov’s website right now to confirm this

Rubes: I just called Mom but she isn’t answering the phone

Tali: She knew about this. WHO ELSE KNEW?

Sebastian: I didn’t. And quit texting Jas’s name over and over again. It’s annoying. She’s skating again. Good job, Jas. Happy for you.

Jojo: ^^ You’re such a vibe kill

Sebastian: No, I’m just not flipping my shit because she got a new partner.

Jojo: SHE DIDN’T TELL US FIRST THO. What is the point of being related if we didn’t get the scoop before everybody else?

Jojo: I FOUND OUT ON PICTUREGRAM

Sebastian: She doesn’t like you. I wouldn’t tell you either.

Tali: I can’t find anything about it online.

Jojo: JASMINE

Tali: JASMINE

Jojo: JASMINE

Tali: JASMINE

Tali: Tell us everything or I’m coming over to Mom’s today.

Sebastian: You’re annoying. Muting this until I get out of work.

Jojo: Party pooper

Tali: Party pooper

Jojo: Jinx

Tali: Jinx

Sebastian: Annoying

I smiled to myself as I read through the messages slowly, rubbing the palm of my hand over the top of each of my hands. I didn’t need to look down to know that the red R and black L I’d been reapplying every day, were still there. I hadn’t really been scrubbing my hands that hard. It was probably going to be months until I could wash them off completely. I had thought about just settling for forming my fingers into L-shapes to tell me which side was what, but it took too long, so Sharpie colors and letters it was going to be… for a while.

I typed out a reply, because knowing them, if I didn’t, the next time I looked at my phone, I’d have an endless column of JASMINE on there until they heard from me.

That didn’t mean my response had to be what they wanted.

Me: Who is Ivan Lukov?

“What are you smiling at, Meatball?”

My shoulders went tense for a second before I reminded myself that this idiot wasn’t worth getting all riled up over. At least not where he could see me react. He didn’t deserve that. Setting my phone next to my knee, I glanced around to see that Coach Lee wasn’t in the room. Huh. I leaned forward, back straight, soles of my socked feet pressed together. I didn’t even give him the benefit of glancing over as he lowered himself beside me for some reason.

“Just checking out pictures of you naked.” I leaned into a stretch even more as my palms walked me forward until my forehead hovered just an inch above the floor. “I needed a laugh.”

His “Hmm” made me smile into the mat, and thankfully he couldn’t see it. “You know what I look at when I need a laugh?”

The smile on my face immediately disappeared. I didn’t reply to his dumbass question.

“Videos of your programs with what’s-his-face,” he answered his own question.

Ass. I turned my head to the side just a little so I could peek at where he was sitting beside me. “I have a video bookmarked of you falling doing a death spiral at the Cup of Russia last year.”

He tried to hide his hiss, but I recognized it immediately. I couldn’t help but smile again. I turned my head back to where it was and shared my smile with the mats. But I should have expected him to have a comeback almost immediately. “You watched that live at home, huh?”

I turned my head to glare over at where he was sitting a few feet away, his legs extended straight out. His head was turned toward me. Of course it was. He was always fucking looking at me, trying to get a reaction. “I was. Did they give you anything for coming in fourth that day or…?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “They didn’t have anything to give me for fourth place. They said something about how they ran out of ribbons after you decided to switch over to pairs.”

I blinked.

He blinked.

Be better. Be better. Be better.

“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” he muttered.

“This next year isn’t going to come fast enough,” I whispered more to myself but a little to him too because why the fuck not?

The corners of his mouth quirked into a smug smile that really made my palm itch. “I’m going to count down the days, Meatball. Believe me. One year, and I’ll probably pay someone to take you so I can get rid of you.”

Something ugly and maybe even hurt bubbled up in my chest for all of a second before I squashed it. One year. I knew it. He knew it. That had been part of it. It wasn’t a surprise. “In a year, I’ll pull my voodoo doll of you out of its box and go back to sticking needles into your black heart.”

His eyelids hung low over his eyes. “The one I have of you is still sitting on my nightstand.”

“I hope your hair falls out.”

He blinked. “I hope—”

“What is wrong with both of you?” Coach Lee hissed from behind us. I tipped my head over a little more to catch her shaking her head as she stood between us, watching us with almost a horrified expression on her face. “I’m a few minutes late and you….” She closed her eyes and shook her head before reopening them. “You know what? Ignore me. I told you not to talk about each other during practice, but you can do whatever you want as long as we aren’t training.”

Neither one of us said a word, but our eyes met.

And I mouthed you suck.

And he whispered back with his pale pink mouth, you suck more.

There was another sigh, but it sounded even more resigned. “My eyes work. I can read your lips. Both of them.”

I didn’t ignore Coach Lee, but all I’d promised was not to say anything. So I didn’t worry about it when I moved my lips at Ivan again. Eat shit.

His tongue tapped at the inside of his cheek. Then he opened his mouth. I’m looking at it.

“Whatever we have to do to make this work, remember?” Coach Lee emphasized, obviously still watching us.

Ivan and I were both staring at each other as we muttered, “Uh-huh.”

Whatever we have to do were infamous words to live by.

It wasn’t like I was going to regret them but…

Goddamn.

It was going to be close.

“Again!”

“Again!”

“Again!”

“No! Again!”

If I never heard the word “again” in my life, I would be totally fine with it. Totally fucking fine. Because starting over from what felt like scratch—it wasn’t really scratch but it seemed like it—was a giant pain in the ass.

Mostly because it was Ivan I was doing this with. Ivan, who I could tell was getting just as aggravated.

It wasn’t until Coach Lee dropped her head back and sighed at the ceiling that she finally changed her words. “Okay, that’s it for the day. Your speeds stopped getting better half an hour ago, and your timing has only slightly improved. We’re wasting time at this point. It isn’t going to get any better.” She shot us both a look that was pretty damn accusing, like she didn’t understand why we were running out of energy.

I wasn’t used to this anymore. This basic exhaustive shit that I hadn’t done since I’d first gotten paired up with The Piece of Shit four years ago.

Fuck me.

Despite the ice bath I’d been taking every night for the last week, everything still hurt. My ribs. My entire abdomen. My shoulders. My wrists. My quads. My back.

The only thing that didn’t hurt was my ass, and that was only because my butt cheeks hadn’t become unused to falling on them. That, and one of them had less nerves still working than the other one did. I was pretty sure I’d killed those nerves while I was trying to work on my 3Ls—my triple Lutzes—back in the day.

I’d been icing my lower back multiple times a day, icing my knees, my hips… everything. It was only a matter of time, I knew that, until I got used to it again. At least I sure as hell hoped so. There was a reason the younger girls quit figure skating before they were legal. Your body’s ability to recuperate took longer and longer every year you got older, and the fact that I’d done more damage to it in twenty-six years than most people would do in double that amount, didn’t help.

Her fingertips were rubbing at the bridge of her nose when she sighed and said in a low voice, “Let’s go over a few things before this afternoon, since we still have time.”

Was she in a bad mood or…?

“Let’s meet in the office in fifteen,” Coach Lee called out, huffing in exasperation as she turned around and walked away.

Yeah, I wasn’t imagining it.

I mean, I didn’t think practice had gone that bad. It hadn’t been the best one yet, but it hadn’t been the worst either. Things had gotten better with every day that went on.

Ivan’s demeanor hadn’t changed, and neither had mine. We didn’t talk to each other unless we were talking to Coach Lee at the same time. We didn’t argue when she gave us instructions or when one of us gave the other a pointer….

It took everything in me to keep my mouth shut, and I bet it took him the same amount of effort too.

But we did it. Because we had to.

That and she hadn’t left us alone again.

“Well then,” I muttered to myself, rubbing at my hip bone with the palm of my hand to ease the ache there from the position I’d been holding doing camelback spins—where you pretty much contorted your body to form a tear drop shape by pulling the heel of your boot toward the back of your head. It had been a hell of a lot easier when I’d been sixteen. Now… it was harder, and that was bullshit.

Without waiting for Ivan, or even turning around to look at what he was doing at that point, I skated to the exit to the rink, put my skate guards on, and then headed toward the changing rooms so I could get dressed and get this meeting over with. Maybe I’d get out of here earlier than normal and could squeeze in another table at work. I made it to my locker, ignored the icon blinking on my phone until later, rubbed myself down with a baby wipe like I’d been having to do every day now that I didn’t have time to shower, got dressed, and put on just enough makeup to look decent.

It didn’t take me long at all to get ready, but by the time I was done, only ten minutes had passed. What she wanted to talk about, I had no clue, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. Whatever it was, I’d deal.

Hauling ass down the three different hallways it took to get to the right side of the building, I found the GMs office easily. Knocking on the door, I waited until I heard Coach Lee’s familiar voice call out, “Come in!”

I went in and found that she was alone inside, her cell pressed to her ear. She held up her index finger, and I nodded, taking a seat in the chair closest to the wall.

“This isn’t what I asked for,” the other woman said quietly into the phone, her hand going to cover her face as her voice got even lower to whisper.

Shit, I could tell when someone needed privacy. Digging through my bag, I pulled out my cell phone and took a look at the screen. I had new messages. A group one to be specific. It was from Dad, Jojo, Tali + 2. The one and only other group chat I had. The one that was used the least amount, one that had my dad in it and not my mom. I almost thought about ignoring it until later, but when Coach Lee’s voice got even quieter, I opened it anyway.

The first message was from him.

Dad: I bought my ticket to come visit in September.

Rubes: Yay!

Jojo: What days?

Rubes: You can stay with us.

Dad: OK.

Dad: 15-22

Rubes: Hopefully Jasmine will be here.

Dad: Where is she going?

Jojo: She has a new partner.

Dad: I thought she quit?

Jojo: No…

Rubes: Jasmine wouldn’t quit, Dad. You know that. Sometimes she has competitions in September. I’ll find out.

He thought I quit.

I shook my head and let out a breath before turning my screen off and tossing my phone back into my bag.

He really thought I quit. Of course he would. The last time I had spoken to him, three months ago, I had specifically told him that I was still training… and he had asked, “Why? You don’t have a partner anymore.”

“Are you all right?” Coach Lee asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Swallowing back my frustration and what I was pretty sure was bitterness that I wasn’t going to double check, I lifted my head and nodded at the other woman. “I’m fine.” Because I was.

She raised her eyebrows, her face drawn and tired looking. More tired looking than I had ever seen it in the years I’d sneaked glances over in her direction. “Okay,” was all she said with another sigh that said she was anything but.

And even though I kind of didn’t want to, I couldn’t help but ask, sounding how I felt, hesitant as hell, “Are you… okay?”

Her dark eyes flashed upward in surprise before shifting to the side for one moment then coming back to me with a nod of her chin. “Yes,” she lied.

I blinked.

The sigh that came out of her was totally unexpected before she shook her head. “Personal life. Don’t worry about it.”

Yeah, I knew what “don’t worry about it” usually meant.

I didn’t want to worry about it, I sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it, but I wasn’t a punk. “We can talk about it.” I spun my bracelet around my wrist and eyed her, secretly hoping she wouldn’t want to. I was the last person in the world to give anyone advice or know what to say in uncomfortable situations. “If you want.”

Her snort—and her smile—caught me totally by surprise. “Oh, Jasmine, that’s sweet, but it’s fine. I’m all right.”

Me? Sweet?

She snorted again, her smile growing just a little wider. “Don’t look like I’m insulting you. I appreciate you asking. I wasn’t expecting it is all,” she said carefully, wiping a hand across her brow. Then she raised her eyebrows. “Let’s talk about you instead, deal?”

Shit.

“Nothing bad,” Coach Lee added, like she could tell I didn’t want to necessarily do that, but knew I had to.

I nodded at her.

She stopped smiling as she leaned into the desk, planting her elbow on it. “First thing, have you opened new social media accounts?”

Fuck me. Of course she’d start there. “No,” I answered her honestly, this weird, almost nauseous feeling lining my stomach for a moment before I shoved that shit back down. I would be fine. Everything would be fine. It would. “I haven’t made time for it yet. I will this weekend.”

The older woman nodded, but there was something hesitant in her expression. “Can I ask you something?”

I hated when people asked me that, but it wasn’t like I could tell her no.

“Why’d you delete your accounts to begin with? I used to follow you on your Picturegram account. You had a good amount of followers on there. Your Facebook page was popular too, but you deleted both of them at the same time,” she went on, her expression watchful.

Damn it.

“That was what? Almost two years ago? You got rid of it while you were still with Paul,” she added like I didn’t know that. Like I hadn’t been the one to go on there and personally cancel those accounts. I didn’t have a publicist or a team of people working behind the scenes of my life. It was just me. And sometimes my sister got on there.

At least it had been my sister until I’d told her to stop because I’d been worried she would catch on to what was going on. She’d freaked out enough the first time I got a creepy message. If she’d seen the rest of them, it would have gotten worse. Maybe my family had never been super overprotective of me, but they had it in them to be. I just didn’t want it or need it. They had better things to do.

And I didn’t want to tell Coach Lee about it either but…

Did I want to start this relationship off by being a fucking liar?

Damn it. I knew the answer. I just didn’t like it.

“I had a situation with a… fan,” I told her, making a face at using the f-word because it should have been more along the lines of “creepy ass stalker.” “It was uncomfortable, and I ended up cancelling my accounts because they were distracting me too much.”

Her forehead had wrinkled and then gotten even more wrinkled the more I spoke.

Shit.

“Did you go to the police?” she finally asked, her forehead still lined.

“There were never any actual threats to me, so there wasn’t anything they would do,” I told her honestly, feeling like an idiot. “Everything was online.” There I did lie, somewhat. When I had first gone to the police, it had been true, but it hadn’t stayed that way.

Her expression still didn’t change at all, but there was something about it—maybe her eyes—that made her look more thoughtful than she had before. “You’ll tell me if there’s a problem?”

I lifted a shoulder and made my face do the closest thing to a smile it could make when it didn’t feel genuine.

Her forehead flattened, and the corners of her mouth twitched just a little. “I can appreciate you not lying to me. At least keep me in the loop if things pick up again. I would rather you be comfortable and safe than being harassed, understand?”

I was going to take that as her telling me she would rather I not have an account than have one where I got sent videos of someone jerking off to pictures I’d posted of myself.

I nodded at Coach Lee, shoving the memory of that away.

She didn’t look like she believed me exactly, but she didn’t call me out on it. “Let me think about it some more, but for now, post basic things around the LC. Once a day is best, make sure they’re good, quality photos. In a few weeks, start to mix the content up. Ivan and I were talking—”

When the hell did they talk? On the phone? I had never seen them whispering to each other or anything.

“—and after what you’ve just said, I think it might be a good idea if we set up an account dedicated to the two of you.”

I blinked at the t-word. “For…?” We were only in this for a year together. I blinked again. “Why?”

Her expression almost made me feel like an idiot. “The more fans like you, the more they’ll root for you, the easier it’ll be to get donations to hopefully cover the rest of your expenses, Jasmine. If you need the assistance—”

I made a face.

“—or even if you don’t,” she threw in, probably seeing my expression, “you might want to think about starting one of those online fundraising pages to cover your other expenses.”

Right. Like that would go well. I could name the people who would donate, and I was related to all of them. I was used to it, but the last thing my rep needed was for people to laugh over no one giving a shit about me.

No fucking thanks. Stripping or the kidney black market it would be.

When I didn’t say anything, she went on. “It’s also a good idea for you two to do a few interviews together in the near future. I was thinking we should invite a reporter or two to the facility and get some footage of you both practicing. We can spin the story nicely. Two rinkmates coming together. It would look great.”

Me and Ivan doing an interview together? Uh….

“A unified front,” she kept going. “Knowing each other for so long and then coming back together—”

I choked.

A unified front? Knowing each other for so long? There was a video of us from a couple of years ago that was supposed to have been a recording of another skater’s practice, but it had caught me telling Ivan to suck my dick after he told me the only way I was going to get better at a spin I’d been working on was to be reincarnated. But the mic hadn’t picked up that part. Just what I’d said, because that was my luck.

I wasn’t exactly the most book-smart person in the world, but I wasn’t dumb. So I knew there was something about the tone of her voice and the way she was speaking that I didn’t like. And I wasn’t wrong.

I blinked at her. “Are you trying to make it seem like we’re dating?”

She pursed her lips together for a moment. “No. Not dating—”

Uh….

“More like… you’re very friendly with each other. As in you respect and like each other—”

Oh God.

“The more unified the better—”

What?

“People would eat it up,” she finished off, her face calm and even.

The blank stare I was aiming her way must have said exactly what I thought because she raised her eyebrows in a way that I didn’t appreciate.

“We just don’t need it to look like you can barely stand each other. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t move from my spot as I said carefully, “You want me to act like we’re all giggly and cuddly and friendly.”

She sighed the same way Galina used to, but I didn’t focus on that at all. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Respect and admiration—”

“I don’t admire him.”

She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, and I’d bet my life she was praying for patience. “You can act like it.”

“He doesn’t admire me either.”

“He can act like it too. But it’s important, and he knows that. You can’t glare at each other. You act when you’re on the ice, and I’m sure those emotions will translate well in the choreography that’s put together in a couple of months. I’m not worried about that. We’ll find the right musical compositions to flatter your chemistry. You’ve also both been doing great during practice, and I’m very proud of you—”

For not killing each other? Good God. That’s what my life had come to? People being proud of me for keeping my mouth shut?

“But you both need to keep it going even outside of the rink, at least where other people can see… and read your lips.” She slid me a look.

All I could do was sit there and blink. Realistically, I knew she wasn’t asking for something outrageous or even unheard of. She didn’t want us at each other’s throats was what she was trying to say.

But what it felt like was something completely different.

It felt like she was asking me to pretend to love him or something. And I felt a whole lot of things for Ivan Lukov, but love was nowhere in the top one thousand words I would have used. Nope.

In the way she had been showing me lately of being able to read my body language and face, Coach Lee sighed and gave me another tiny smile that had exasperation around the edges. “Jasmine, I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in miracles. I’m not asking you for anything I don’t think you’re both capable of.”

I didn’t say a word. I was an idiot for not seeing this coming. I really was. I could admit it. Why the hell I hadn’t thought that we’d have to put our best behavior pants on in front of public eyes was beyond me.

I was a really shitty actress. And I hated lies.

And I hated even more that we were having to have this conversation to begin with.

Pushing down hard on my temple with my index and middle finger, I let out a slow breath that wasn’t at all like me. The question hovered on my lips and in my heart, and I didn’t want an answer, but I needed it. “Is my reputation that bad that we have to do this?”

“No one denies that you’re a world-class figure skater, Jasmine—”

Here we go.

“—but there are these small worries about things in the past that we want to improve as much as possible to help us all out. You understand.”

That was the fucked-up part. I did understand. I understood completely.

My reputation was that bad that people thought the only way to salvage it was to have the little doll of the figure skating world be my friend. That if he could like me, everyone else could too. Because if he didn’t, then there was something wrong with me.

There wasn’t anything wrong with me. I stood up for myself. I stood up for other people. I didn’t take shit from others. Was that so wrong? Even Jonathan, my brother, had told me once years ago that if I were a man, no one would think twice about it. People would think I was some kind of asshole hero with a heart of gold.

“You don’t have to act it up over the top.“ She made a face that said that if I did, no one would complain. I got it. “But be friendly with each other. Be a team. Keep the comments between the two of you and out of the spotlight.”

The door creaking open kept me from saying anything else. Then the pure black head of hair peeked out around the slot in the doorway and a face I was growing more and more familiar with by the second appeared. “I had to sign a few autographs,” he apologized before coming inside and closing the door behind him, before pausing and glancing between the two of us like he didn’t know what to think.

Of course he would be signing autographs at the same facility he trained at almost daily. It was only because Coach Lee was right there that I didn’t open my mouth and say something sarcastic about him paying people to ask him for his signature.

But I managed to push that out of my head and focus on Lee’s words. “Did you know about this?” I asked him, my voice sounding weird and even a little hoarse to my ears.

Those intense blue eyes went from Coach Lee to me to back to her, and he replied, making a face at me for some reason, “What?”

“Us acting like we’re dating,” I snapped, shooting a look at Coach Lee, who was making her own face like I was overexaggerating.

“I didn’t say to act like you’re dating—” she started to explain before Ivan cut her off.

“We’re supposed to act like we’re dating?” Ivan stood there, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Coach Lee and me so fast I knew there was no way he’d heard about this. His frown helped too.

“Fine, more like we’re ‘best friends’.” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I was totally blowing this out of proportion and stealing the reins of acting like a drama queen… but not really caring at the same time.

“No. Not even best friends, I would settle for just friends,” the other woman tried to clarify.

“That respect and admire each other,” I muttered.

Ivan said nothing for once in his life.

“You don’t have to… kiss… or anything like that. Just… be friendly, smile at each other, don’t act like… like… you think the other has cooties,” she offered, as if that was better. I was going to ignore the fact she’d used the word cooties to describe what we thought of each other. I thought he was the devil, or at least an immediate family member to him… or her; I didn’t think Ivan had cooties.

I was staring at her with my mouth slightly open, and I wasn’t sure if Ivan was or not, but I didn’t care.

The other woman gave Ivan a look I wasn’t sure what to do with. It was… frustrated? Angry? “You’re both going to act like this is impossible?”

Ivan blinked.

Then I blinked too.

“It’ll be good for both of you, and you know that.”

That was debatable.

My mind was racing. Had he acted all buddy-buddy with the rest of his partners before? I couldn’t remember. Paul and I had been a little affectionate with each other, but not anywhere near as much as other pairs partners were. And at least half the time, I didn’t look at him like I wanted to kill him, I thought. But Ivan and the partners before me? I really couldn’t be sure; I didn’t think so, though. Then again, I hadn’t paid that much attention to them because I was always so focused on his annoying ass.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Ivan raise his hand and cup the back of his head with it, but I was too busy taking in the expression Coach Lee was shooting him to really absorb his actions at first.

Her face was turning pink… and was she giving him big eyes?

“Ivan,” the woman said, slowly, carefully, another message hiding in his name alone.

He blinked. Those long, sweeping black eyelashes hung down over his eyes, and I could see the hard breath in and out of his throat and chest.

Something told me there was something wrong about this. The way they were looking at each other… I couldn’t figure it out but….

“Sure,” he huffed unexpectedly, shooting me a look I almost missed that seemed like I was putting him out and making him do something he would rather not.

“Sure?” I croaked.

He nodded, looking pissed off. “Yeah. Sure. I can do it.”

“What the fu—” I closed my mouth and pressed my lips together. Think. Think, Jasmine. I had given them my word.

“It’s not the best idea I’ve ever heard, but we should do it,” Ivan muttered. Then he looked in my direction and his forehead scrunched up. “It’s only a year before I get rid of you.”

Motherfucker.

Coach Lee groaned, but I barely heard it over the need for me to call him a little bitch.

He sighed and tipped his head up toward the ceiling. “I can fake a smile,” he went on as I leaned over in my seat and planted the tip of my elbow onto the armrest. “She doesn’t have to marry me or have my kid… right, Lee? Or did I miss that?”

That had me rolling back to sit up straight so I could glare at him. “I wouldn’t have your kid if you paid me a million dollars.”

Something strange happened to his cheek before his facial features went completely smooth. “I’m not asking you to. It isn’t that big of a deal. I can do it.” Those dark, thick eyebrows of his went up just half an inch, max. “You can’t do something so small?” he asked, and I swore he was purposefully trying to egg me on.

If that throwdown wasn’t enough to calm me down and get my thoughts in order, I didn’t know what was. Of course there was nothing he could do that I couldn’t do better. Except a quad—a jump with four revolutions—but that was beside the point. I wasn’t about to let evil think they were better than I was. So I kept my voice nice and even as I tried to explain, “I can do it, but I’m just not good at pretending, all right?”

Neither one of them said a word.

“I’m not,” I reiterated.

They were asking me to be affectionate. All right, maybe not affectionate, but… at least not act like I couldn’t stand him. I guess.

Of course I could do it. I just didn’t know if I wanted to. I’d never been a good actress. I had never seen a point in pretending to feel something that I didn’t, or like someone I couldn’t stand. I had dealt with enough shit like that in my life.

“You’re not exactly my type, if that helps any,” Ivan threw in, forcing me to turn my head slowly to look at him. “I can look at you like I don’t hate you.”

I blinked. “Good. You’re not my type either.”

He blinked.

I blinked.

And then Coach Lee let out an uncomfortable noise. “I’m glad neither one of you is each other’s type. So, can we agree that you can be nice to each other in public? I have an interview set up for both of you next week.”

Ivan shrugged as I stared at him, his own gaze not going anywhere. “I can do it. It’s up to her if she can.”

Years from then, I’d look back on that moment and see how well they played me. How well Ivan knew me after so long. Because I walked right into that shit. My pride led me there. “Of course I can do it.”

And with a clap of her hands, it was settled. “Good. Let’s move on to the next thing.”

“The Sports Network wants to have you in their magazine,” Coach Lee said, her fingernails scratching at her neck in a way that told me she was anxious.

And she was never anxious.

I glanced at Ivan to find him in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, looking totally unfazed… until I saw the way he was shaking his foot.

“Okay,” I said slowly, still watching Ivan as he sat there, looking almost checked out.

But I knew his form of evil too well. He wasn’t.

Coach Lee let this small, awkward smile cover her mouth, putting me on edge. “Both of you.”

Well, no shit both of us. Why would they only want me when it was Prissy Pants over here that was the most well-known one between us? There was more to this, my gut knew there was.

She was just taking her time telling me for some reason.

So I waited. And I didn’t say anything as I stared at her, ready to hear the rest of it.

When Coach Lee’s eyes flicked in Ivan’s direction, it just confirmed everything. Her voice was higher than usual as she said, “It’s for a special issue—”

The idiot in the seat coughed.

“It’s highest-selling issue every year—”

Oh.

Oh.

I knew exactly what she was talking about.

But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t let her know I knew, because what would the fun in that be when she was nervous and maybe even a little embarrassed to be trying to talk me into something that would require me to get naked? She didn’t know I wasn’t shy, but she should. I’d strip down right then if I had to. I’d been changing in front of other people since I was a kid starting off in competitions.

“It would be great publicity if you did it—”

I kept on watching her. Kept the blank look on my face too.

“It would only take a morning or an afternoon—”

I nodded that time and did it slowly.

“Possibly a day at the most, but no longer than that,” she finished up her pitch with a tight smile.

I blinked at her, looking as innocent as I was capable of. “What’s the issue?” I asked her, keeping my tone light.

Her face flushed red, and her gaze moved to Ivan quickly.

“You already know it’s for the Anatomy Issue, Meatball, quit being a pain in the ass, dragging it out.” Ivan snickered, shaking his head.

There went fucking Meatball again. Focus. Be better.

I shot him a bland look and shrugged. “Sorry,” I said, only half meaning it.

Her face immediately went into a frown. “You knew?”

“I figured when you were trying extra hard to sell me on it.”

She still didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look mad either, just… surprised. “You’re fine with it?”

I raised a shoulder. “All they need to do is take pictures of me in my skates, right?”

Coach Lee blinked. “Yes.”

“I get to tape my extra private parts, right?”

She nodded slowly, her face still twisted into an apprehensive expression.

“And it’s only the staff that are around?”

She did the same gesture, her expression not going anywhere.

“It’s fine with me then,” I told her easily. “I know that would be good publicity.” Plus, I had always secretly hoped I’d be invited to do it. It was pretty much an honor in a sport with so many talented people.

Coach’s eyes narrowed almost suspiciously, and she took her time saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m having a hard time accepting that you’re being so understanding with this.”

“I get naked in front of total strangers in the changing rooms,” I said. “The people taking the pictures and on the staff have seen better bodies and worse bodies than mine. We all have butt cracks and genitals. I don’t see what the big deal is. And it’s not like anyone is going to see my nipples or anything.” Then I blinked. “Neither one of you needs to be there, right?”

Ivan coughed again, and Coach Lee’s face turned bright red. Her sputter could probably be heard around the world as she replied, “Jasmine…. the shoot isn’t of you by yourself. They want you and Ivan together.”

Me and Ivan together.

Naked.

“It would be great for the two of you to do it,” Coach Lee added, trying to put some enthusiasm into her tone, like that would convince me. “Just a quick shoot. Knowing both of you, you’d get it done as fast as possible.”

“I’d have to get naked in front of him?” I hooked my thumb and pointed it toward the idiot that was smirking from his spot on the seat. I didn’t need to glance at him to know he was doing it. I just knew he was.

She nodded.

I didn’t even think about it. “No.”

Ivan’s laugh, this lazy, bright thing that got on my nerves every time I heard it, filled the room. “You said a second ago that you get naked in front of complete strangers.”

I shot the idiot in a fleece pullover and navy blue sweatpants a look. “Yeah, strangers. Not people I need to see every day.” I scoffed. “Not you.”

He wrinkled his nose, clearly enjoying the shit out of this. “Yeah, you know me. You know you can trust me—”

I laughed. “No.”

“What am I going to do? Take a picture of you and post it on the Internet?” He made a face.

He had a point, but… “No.”

“I trust you to not post a picture of me naked,” he offered, like that would help.

I shot him another look. “Why would I do that? Nobody wants to see that anyway.”

He rolled his eyes and made an exasperated noise in his throat that I had seen and heard him do at least a handful of times over the years when he didn’t know what to say in return, AKA I’d won. “I don’t get what the big deal is.” He changed the subject. “She was worried you would tell us no, but I thought for sure you’d say yes. It’s the highest-selling issue.”

Fuck me.

Ivan tipped his head to the side and gave me that clear, smug face again. “We made a deal.”

Damn it. “I know we made a deal,” I hissed, suddenly feeling off.

“We have to do it.”

I wanted to lift my hands up to cover my eyes, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. But shit. Shit. I looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath.

“You know I’ve seen naked women before, right?” he asked, with what might have been humor or smart-ass in his tone.

I shook my head and kept my gaze upward. How the hell had I gotten into this? And how could I get myself out of it?

It was one thing for a bunch of other girls to see me butt-ass naked.

It was one thing for a total stranger to see me in my birthday suit.

But it was a completely different thing for this man who used to tease me for years about my body to see me without clothes.

I was going to have to look him in the eye for the next year. Listen to him for that time period.

One of the last people in the world I would ever want to be that vulnerable around would be Ivan. He didn’t need more ammo for his arsenal. God forbid he make a comment about the size of my ass when I didn’t have underwear on. I’d probably try to pull his dick off.

But…

I had given them my word. I was going to do whatever I needed to do to take advantage of this time we were going to have together. And if that meant having to get shit about my small chest or the shape of my belly button or my vagina lips… it was going to be his dick that got ripped off.

Son of a bitch.

“So… yes?” Coach Lee asked, sounding hopeful.

I still wouldn’t look at them as the reality of the situation hit me right in the chest. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Don’t look so pissed. We’ll get it done as fast as possible. Holding you up fully clothed is bad enough, I don’t want to do it when you’re naked.”

I didn’t hesitate flipping him off, even with my attention on the ceiling. Lowering my gaze, I gave him a mean smile. “I don’t want to see your junk either.”

The idiot winked. “Aww, it’s not junk, Meatball. It’s the good stuff.”

I gagged.