From Lukov with Love Page 25

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.”