Fire on Ice: The Olympic Claim

Everly POV

The paper on the mahogany desk smelled like ink and expensive lawyer fees. I stared at the signature line, feeling my chest tighten under my jacket.

"Sign it," Coach Mercer said, not looking up from his tablet. He sat behind the desk like a judge delivering a sentence. "Both of you. Now."

"This is a joke," Knox said. He paced back and forth in front of the leather sofa behind me, his heavy steps making the floor vibrate. "I am the best player in the country. I do not need a figure skater to teach me how to move my feet. She is a kid."

"I am twenty-two," I said, spinning around to face him. "I have more medals than your whole family put together. You are a caveman. I do not want to waste my mornings babysitting a clumsy guy who cannot even turn a corner without knocking things over."

Knox stopped pacing. He stepped into my space, his chest tense under his shirt. "Then walk away, Frost. Go find a pond. See how your ankle holds up when you hit a twig."

"Enough," the coach said. His single word was like a slap. He stood up, his silver-haired figure blocking the light from the office window. "Knox, if your name is not on that sheet by five o'clock, the federation gets the report. Your suspension becomes a permanent ban. You can forget the Olympic trials. You can forget competing."

My future trainee gripped the back of the leather sofa. His knuckles turned white, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

The older man turned to me. His blue eyes, the same shade as his son's, were cold. "Everly, if you do not sign, the security guards will throw you out in ten minutes. Your spot will go to the Vanguard Club. Choose."

The room was silent. We both knew the choice was a trap. Neither of us could afford to lose.

I grabbed the pen from the desk. My hand shook for a second before I signed my name quickly and sharply. I tossed the pen down and pushed past the athlete toward the door.

"Five o'clock tomorrow morning, Knox," his father called out behind us. "Two hours. Just the two of you on the sheet before the main academy arrives. If either of you is late, the deal is off."

***

The arena at dawn was empty and cold. The black steel beams overhead cast shadows across the ice, and the temperature was low enough to see my breath. I stood at the center circle, my skates tight, my arms crossed.

The door to the locker room opened. He walked out, his blades clicking on the mat. He did not bring his extra gear, wearing only black track pants and a grey shirt. He stepped onto the ice, his blades cutting a groove. He stopped three feet away, his chest heaving with a deep breath.

"Let us get one thing straight, glitter girl," he growled. "You do not coach me. You show me the physics; I do the drill. We do not talk outside this circle."

"Fine by me," I said, stepping back to look at his posture. "Show me your crossover. Go around the center circle at half speed."

He snorted and pushed off. At half speed, he was powerful. He built speed in two strides, his body tilting as he hit the curve. He threw his foot over his left, but his upper body was stiff.

"Stop," I called out.

Knox returned to me, scowling. "What? That was fine."

"It was loud," I said. "You are fighting the ice. Your shoulders are tense. You are top-heavy. If an international competitor hits you on that turn, you will fly into the pads."

"I have a core," he said, stepping closer.

"Then use it," I said.

I took a breath and stepped into his space. The heat from his body hit me like a wave. He was huge, and my head barely reached his collarbone. "Drop your weight," I commanded.

He stayed stiff, staring at me with cold eyes. "Make me."

I did not hesitate. I reached out and gripped his waist. The moment my fingers touched him, he stopped moving.

His breath caught in his throat, and his skin was hot, his hip bones solid under my grip. I forced his hips down, pushing my palms into his sides until his knees bent.

"Keep your shoulders square," I muttered. "Your power comes from your body. If your chest is forward, your edges cannot bite."

Knox did not move. He stayed in the stance, his eyes locked on mine. The anger in his gaze had changed into something intense. "Like this?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

"Yes," I said. My hands lingered on his hips before I pulled them back. My skin felt buzzed, and I took a step back, needing the air to clear my head. "Now do the turn. Keep your hands behind your back. Do not let your upper body move."

He watched me for three seconds before turning. He set his feet, dropped into the position, and pushed off. The difference was immediate. The sound changed from a scrape to a hiss. His long frame glided through the curve, his balance centered.

He skated back to me, stopping fast. A small smirk tugged at his lips. "Not bad, teacher."

"Do it ten times," I said, crossing my arms. "Left side only. Your left ankle is weak on the recovery."

"My ankle is fine," he said, turning to do the drill.

For the hour, the ice was our battlefield. We did not use music; the only sound was our blades and my commands. Every time he slipped into his habits, I stepped into his space, forcing his body into compliance.

By the time the clock hit seven, my ankle ached. Mercer stood at the boards, his grey shirt damp with sweat.

"Same time tomorrow, Mercer," I said, unlatching the gate. I leaned in close as I passed him, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Change your attitude. If you make my life hell during these sessions, I will make sure your father sees every mistake you make. I can ruin your national standing faster than the federation."

I started to pull away, but my blade caught a piece of ice, and I stumbled. Before I could hit the surface, his hand shot out. His fingers gripped my waist, stopping my fall and pulling me flush against his chest.

My breath was trapped. I was pinned against him, my front pressed into his torso. The heat was overwhelming. I looked up, my eyes wide, my nose inches from his throat. Knox loomed over me, his dark eyes locking onto mine with intensity. His grip on my waist tightened.

"Frost," he growled. "Play with fire. You will get burned."