“Practice in ten,” Ryder muttered beside me, tossing popcorn at Malek. I barely heard him. My eyes were on the ice. You skated like you weren’t even aware of the world—fluid, focused, cutting lines like poetry.
“Who’s that?” I asked. Ryder paused, followed my gaze.“No idea. Figure skater, I think” But I already knew— I’d be watching you again.
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