Love on ice

Chapter 5: Uninvited sparks

The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the clinic walls, thick enough to taste. I clenched my jaw as Dr. Kowalski, a man whose glasses swallowed half his face tapped my scans with a dispassionate pen.

"Healing, but slower than I'd like," he said, voice flat. His eyes flicked to my ankle brace, then back up. "You've been doing off-ice training?"

"Stretches. Basic conditioning." The lie slid out smoothly. I'd added single-foot spins two days ago in the privacy of our backyard, gritting my teeth through the fire lancing up my leg.

He sighed, the sound heavy with disapproval.

"Anastasiya. If you reinjure this ankle, even surgery won't".

"I know." I snatched the scans before he could finish. The numbers hadn't changed still that infuriating thirty percent chance but the way his mouth pinched said he'd mentally downgraded it to twenty-eight.

Lillian waited in the car, her fingers drumming against the wheel. As a biochemical engineer specializing in tissue regeneration, she probably understood my scans better than I did, not that it mattered. Her field dealt with petri dishes and lab rats, not competitive athletes.

"You could try hydrotherapy," she offered as we pulled away. "The university lab has a..."

"I'm fine." I turned toward the window, watching Minneapolis blur past in a smear of gray and green. Hydrotherapy was for retirees and house cats.

The silence that followed was thicker than the scar tissue knitting my bones back together.

Three days later, I was shoveling eggs into my mouth when my father dropped the bombshell.

"We're dining with the Wilders on Saturday."

My fork screeched against the plate. He remembered. After two weeks of blessed silence on the subject, I'd hoped he'd forgotten.

"I have nothing to wear," I said flatly.

Dad didn't blink. He just slid an envelope across the table. "Mall. Today."

Nikolai perked up, his mouth full of toast. "Jace is picking me up at noon. You can hitch a ride."

Perfect. Just the opportunity I needed to remind Jace Wilder exactly who he was dealing with.

The Audi purred at the curb exactly on time, its black paint gleaming under the midday sun. Jace lounged against the hood like some misplaced cowboy, all lazy grin and rolled-up sleeves.

His eyes found mine immediately, flicking to my ankle brace before darting away.

Nikolai yanked the passenger door open with a crow of "Shotgun!"

I slid into the back like it was my rightful throne. "Mall. Now."

Jace's eyebrow arched as he slipped into the driver's seat. "Nice to see you too, Princess."

"Drive."

His chuckle vibrated through the leather seats as we peeled away from the curb.

The car smelled like cedar and spearmint gum, a combination that inexplicably made my shoulders tense. Jace's eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror, dark and entirely too amused.

"So," he drawled, fingers tapping the wheel. "Still pretending you hate America?"

"I don't pretend." I flicked an imaginary speck off Nikolai's headrest. "Unlike some people who pretend not to be insufferable."

Nikolai snorted. "Told you she'd be like this."

Jace's grin widened. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

The way he said it—low and knowing—sent an unwelcome prickle down my spine.

The mall rose like a glass-and-steel monstrosity, sunlight glinting off its surfaces in a way that made my eyes ache. Jace idled at the curb, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm against the wheel.

"Need a ride back?" His tone was carefully casual. Too casual.

"I'll manage." I slammed the door harder than necessary.

Through the tinted window, I saw his mouth open—then snap shut. Nikolai's smirk was audible even through the glass.

The Audi pulled away far too slowly.

Three hours later, I stood in a fitting room surrounded by discarded dresses, staring at my reflection. The black fabric clung to my frame, sleek and sharp nothing like the pastel horrors hanging outside. The slit up the leg was high enough to be dangerous, the neckline dipping just enough to remind everyone I wasn't a child anymore.

My phone buzzed in my purse.

Unknown Number: Find anything that doesn't look like you're planning a murder?

My spine stiffened. Jace. Nikolai must have given him my number. The realization sent an unwelcome spark down my spine.

Me: I'm considering several options.

Unknown Number: Knew you'd say that. Send proof you bought something and you haven't been so indecisive.

I glared at the screen, then because I wasn't a coward snapped a mirror selfie, making sure to capture my deadliest glare along with the black dress.

Me: Happy?

The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Lingered for a heartbeat too long.

Jace: Ecstatic.

I shoved the phone away, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck.

After finishing my shopping, I let the scent of buttered popcorn and fake cinema air fill my nose as I settled into the plush seat, shopping bags tucked at my feet.

The movie was some loud American action flick explosions, car chases, dialogue I barely processed. But it was a distraction, and right now, that was enough.

Between handfuls of popcorn, I fingered the small shopping bag beside me. The bow tie inside was silk, navy with silver stitching—perfect for Nikolai’s upcoming team banquet. The other bag was smaller, the contents far more irritating.

I’d walked past the fragrance counter three times before caving.

It didn’t mean anything.

The perfume bottle was cheap, something citrusy and sharp, nothing like the cedar-and-amber scent Jace wore that inexplicably made my stomach tighten. That was the problem. He shouldn’t smell like something I wanted to breathe in.

The movie ended in a hail of gunfire and a predictable kiss. I gathered my bags, tossing the empty popcorn tub in the trash as I stepped back into the mall’s artificial glow.

I was halfway to the bus stop when a familiar black Audi pulled up to the curb.

Nikolai tumbled out first, grinning. “We come bearing rescue.”

Jace leaned against the hood, arms crossed, that infuriating half-smirk on his face. “Hoped you’d be stranded.”

I rolled my eyes but let Nikolai take the larger bags. Jace reached for the remaining one, his fingers brushing mine. A spark of warmth shot up my arm. I yanked my hand back.

“What’s this?” Nikolai held up the bow tie box.

“A bribe,” I said. “So you don’t embarrass me at that banquet.”

He laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You’re the worst.”

Jace’s gaze flicked to the other small bag still in my hand. “What about me? Good chauffeurs get tips.”

I hesitated. Then, with exaggerated solemnity, I reached into my pocket and flipped him off.

Nikolai choked on a laugh. Jace just grinned, slow and knowing. “Classy, Princess.”

The drive home was quieter than I expected. Nikolai chattered about his team’s chances this season, Jace interjecting with dry commentary. I stared out the window, the perfume box burning a hole in my lap.

When we pulled up to the house, Nikolai insisted on carrying everything inside. I let him, if only to avoid another round of Jace’s teasing.

“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, sliding out.

Jace’s smirk was the last thing I saw before shutting the door.

JACE'S POV

Back in my driveway, I reached into the rear seat for my forgotten water bottle—and froze.

A small, glossy box glinted in the dim light. I picked it up, turning it over. A note was scribbled in sharp, unfamiliar handwriting:

Change your perfume. It doesn’t suit you.

I laughed.

Because I knew.

Buried in my phone was a screenshot from an old post of hers—a training bag spill, her gear strewn across the floor. Right there, beside her skates, was a bottle of my cologne.

The caption?

The only good scent in this godforsaken rink.

I pocketed the cheap perfume, shaking my head.

Liar.

But I was delighted she got me something.