Okay.
He grabbed the thing off the counter in the same move and opened the tissue paper, pulling out something that looked almost identical. A sliver of metal with a leather band around it. Except the leather was bright pink.
“I don’t want you to get nervous tonight,” he started to say as he held the bracelet in one hand, his eyes on me.
I switched back and forth between looking at him and the thing in his hand. “I’m not nervous.”
He snickered. “Fine, you’re not nervous. But I want you to know that regardless of what happens today and tomorrow, it doesn’t matter, Meatball.”
And that had me snapping my head up to look him in the eye. The fuck was he talking about? “Of course it matters.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he insisted. “It’s just a competition. If we win or lose, it doesn’t change anything.”
What the hell did he mean by anything?
Ivan took my hand with the one not holding the bracelet and rubbed his thumb over the back of my wrist. “I’m not going to be mad. I’m not going to be disappointed. I hope you’re not either.”
I watched him carefully but didn’t say anything.
His jaw moved, and his eyelids hung low over those spectacular eyes as he asked, “Will you?”
“Be disappointed if we don’t win?”
I didn’t like the nod he gave me.
But I thought about his words for one tiny moment. Would I be disappointed if I fucked up or if he fucked up and everything went to shit and we ended up in sixth place tonight and tomorrow? Would I be furious like I had been in the past?
“No.” I wouldn’t. “You’d be in sixth place with me. I wouldn’t be alone. If I’m going to fail, at least we’d do it together,” I whispered, this funny fucking feeling going over my body.
It felt like… it felt like relief. Like acceptance. And it was the second single most beautiful thing I had ever felt in my life.
Second to loving this idiot and my family.
And that had to be the right fucking answer he was looking for because the smile that came over his face was the best one he’d ever shared with me yet. “Give me back your wrist, you little shit,” he ordered, beaming that smile that I wished with all my heart was mine and only mine.
And except for his dogs and his pig and his bunny, it might very well be.
So I gave him my wrist.
And I watched as he tied the pink leather straps together, tight but not too tight, and left the bracelet up high on my arm like I’d had the other one, in the perfect spot to be hidden by the sleeve of my costume. He’d barely finished the knot when I brought my forearm to my face and read the tiny inscription on the metal.
To Meatball
From your best friend, Ivan
And in the time it took me to read the metal plate about four times, Ivan had already tied my bracelet to his own wrist.
But it didn’t fit under his sleeve.
And when he smiled at me, I knew he didn’t even care.
Chapter 23
“I don’t usually give Ivan pep talks before he skates, Jasmine, but I can give you one if you need it,” Coach Lee offered as we stood in the tunnel off to the side of the ice, as the team on the ice started their short program.
I didn’t turn to look at her from my spot in front of Ivan and beside her. I was looking around at the crowd in the stands, keeping my breathing steady, my nerves in check. I felt calm. Calmer than I could ever remember. “I’m okay.”
Because everything would be fine one way or the other. Like Ivan had said. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world if things went to shit.
But I still hoped they didn’t.
“Are you sure?” Coach Lee asked.
I didn’t glance at her, knowing she was watching the pair performing too, as I shook my head and said, “Positive. Pep talks just psych me out.” I did glance at her that time. “But thanks for offering.”
The two hands that had been on my shoulders from the moment we’d come to wait for our turn, kneaded my traps loosely. Ivan’s body was so close behind me, I could feel the heat radiating off him. We’d killed the last three hours, stretching and stretching more, then running through the program in the hall with headphones on, only doing a handful of lifts to gain confidence even though we’d done them a thousand times over the last eight months.
We were as good as we could be with everything that had happened before this.
We were going to try our best, and there was nothing more we could ask for.
“Your mom just waved at me,” Ivan whispered into my ear before lifting a hand off my shoulder and more than likely waving it.
I had never looked for my family before I skated. It had always made me feel more pressure knowing they were there. I didn’t even check my phone for hours before a competition. I wanted to be focused.
But the mention of my mom, who I hadn’t seen since she’d arrived to Lake Placid the night before, had me looking up and around.
Ivan’s hand went up beside my head, and he pointed to the right. Sure enough, I recognized the redhead standing, waving her arms over her head like a crazy person. I also recognized the dark-skinned man on one side of her, the other redhead on her other side, Sebastian’s auburn hair, and—
There was a man his exact height standing beside him. Darker-haired, not as light-skinned. On the other side of that man was Jojo’s unmistakable fat head and big ears, James’s medium-brown hair, and a black-haired couple that had to be the Lukovs.
It was my dad.
It was my fucking dad sitting there.
“Your mom and Jonathan tried to talk him out of coming, but he insisted he wouldn’t bother you,” Ivan whispered into my ear.
I swallowed. I swallowed because I had no idea how I felt about seeing him there. It wasn’t excitement like it would have been a decade ago. But it was something. And I didn’t think it was totally dread.
“You good?” he asked in his low voice.
Without realizing it, my hand went to the spot on my forearm where my bracelet was tied. My new bracelet. I touched it and the lacy-stretch material over it.
“I’m good,” I said, as I went back to looking at my mom who had stopped waving her arms around in the middle of another team’s program, finally. She was watching me and Ivan, and I could tell even from the distance that she was grinning.
I lifted my hand, the one with the bracelet, and waved it at her. Just a little, just for a second.
And she opened her mouth like she was screaming. She might have been, knowing her. But she looked so fucking excited—
I had to let my guilt go and try to focus on being better from now on. I had to.
The hand on my shoulder slid down to rest at the tops of my arms, and Ivan began moving his hands up and down my biceps and triceps.
The music ended a minute afterward, and we watched from our spot as the two figure skaters got off the ice, waving all over the arena before getting the hell out of the way while they waited for their scores to be called.
Coach Lee turned to us and raised her eyebrows at both Ivan and me, and said, “You’re ready.”
Not a question, but a statement.
Because we were.
“You’ve both exceeded my expectations for the season already. Ivan, remember to pace yourself after you come out of the triple-triple, and Jasmine…” She gave me a little smile then that I felt down to my bones. “Just be this you, okay?”
This me.
I didn’t know what the hell she meant by that, but I nodded anyway.
This me.
“Let’s get ’em, baby,” Ivan whispered into my ear, with a squeeze to my upper arms.