Ink and Ice by Erin McRae (novel books to read txt) 📕

nerve. What if they said no? What if they were upset at his request? He’d already asked for so much from them this year.

“What’s up?” Brendan asked.

Aaron took a breath. “I want to skate to a different song for my free skate,” he blurted.

Katie and Brendan both looked at him. Brendan had on his mild-curiosity face that Aaron knew was his way of saying What the hell?

Katie said it out loud. “What the hell, Aaron?”

“You know I’ve been frustrated with the program as it is—and the music. It’s not working.”

“You have that music,” Katie said, her voice studiously neutral, “Because you didn’t have a strong vision for your program when we started.”

“I know,” Aaron said. “But I think I do now.”

“Camp is two weeks away.” Brendan looked pained. Aaron squirmed. Enthusiasm from either of them at this late notice.... He’d known he couldn’t have expected that. And they hadn’t said no. But still. That didn’t make their reluctance fun.

“Then we better get started sooner rather than later, right? I mean. If you’re okay with that.”

Katie and Brendan often told their skaters to speak up and ask for whatever it was they felt they needed to succeed; even so, Aaron worried he was overstepping. Katie and Brendan had other skaters to worry about, and this was a change that was going to take up a good deal of time when that was never something any of them had in abundance.

His coaches exchanged wordless looks, which made Aaron squirm more. The way they seemed to be able to communicate without speaking was unsettling and, in this moment, didn’t bode well.

“It wouldn’t be a complete re-choreographing,” he said, too antsy to let the silence sit and wanting this too much to not argue for it the best he could. “Just... disassembling and reassembling it to different music. With a different vibe.”

“That’s still a lot of work,” Katie finally said. “Mostly for you and Brendan.”

Aaron nodded. Brendan was, after all, in charge of most of the skaters’ choreography. That was part of the division of labor that he and Katie had, and, generally, it worked well.

“Is this about what I think it’s about?” Katie asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I don’t know. What do you think it’s about?” Aaron went for his best attempt at innocence.

For the first time, it occurred to him that whatever Katie knew of what was going on between him and Zack, Brendan knew as well. Which was fine, as far as it went, Aaron didn’t expect Katie to keep secrets from her spouse, especially when they pertained to someone they both coached. But he didn’t want to talk about Zack in front of Brendan. As much as he trusted Brendan, he was still closer to Katie.

Katie gave him a long, piercing look. Aaron made himself meet her eyes and reminded himself she couldn’t actually read his mind.

Finally, she sighed, throwing up her hands as she stood up. “If you can work it out with Brendan, it’s fine with me,” she said. She seemed less annoyed than resigned, and Aaron drew a sigh of relief.

Once Katie had left for a session on the ice with Charlotte, Brendan turned to Aaron. “She’s not upset with you, you know.”

“I know,” Aaron said. Now that the dread of the conversation was over—and he’d gotten what he wanted—he was thrumming with excited energy again.

“And I’m willing to put in the time with you, if this is what is going to make it happen for you,” Brendan said. “But it is going to be a lot of work. More for you than for me—and you’re going to have to bring this to camp like we haven’t been making changes on short notice. The music you have is a safe choice.”

“Safe never won any medals,” Aaron pointed out.

“All right, safe isn’t a guarantee,” Brendan acceded. “But do you know how many Swan Lake routines have won gold? Or Romeo and Juliet. Or...”

Aaron cut Brendan off. “Okay, I take your point. But I’ve skated to warhorses for years and they haven’t gotten me where I want to go.” Warhorse was the term in the skating community for any piece of music frequently used—some said overused—by skaters at all levels. They were solid songs, and while Aaron never objected to a good Tango de Roxanne, he craved variety and the originality that could come with it.

“All right.” Brendan seemed resigned. “What do you have in mind?”

Aaron pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Can I show you?”

AT THE END OF THE SONG—IT wasn’t quite the right length for a long program and would need edits, but what didn’t—Brendan narrowed his eyes at Aaron. Aaron was used to scrutiny, but he still had to ball his fists to keep himself from squirming under Brendan’s assessing gaze. He was pretty sure this song had just told Brendan everything there was to know about his deal with Zack regardless of what he already knew from Katie.

“This?” Brendan asked.

Aaron nodded. “Yeah.” He felt exposed—though, he reminded himself, if he was going to skate to his song all season, that was a feeling he was going to have to get used to.

“You’re sure?” Brendan’s face and voice were studiously neutral. Aaron tried not to freak out at the lack of reaction from him.

“Yeah.” And then again, nodding firmly. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“All right then,” Brendan said, a smile breaking out on his face. “This song is incredible. Let’s get to work.”

FITTING IN TIME FOR developing a new program—even one that was mostly, as Aaron had said, pieces of his previous program rearranged—was a challenge. He and Brendan met late that same night, in the time Aaron would usually be working at the rink by himself if he wasn’t home doing books for the restaurant. Or with Zack.

To Aaron’s surprise, Katie arrived partway through their session. As she had been that morning, she was dressed for the farm; she must have come after her evening rounds with the cows.

“Getting closer,”