Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Rose's Pov

I couldn't take it anymore. The walls of that apartment were practically closing in on me, suffocating me with the stale smell of cardboard boxes and my dad's silence. So, despite everything, I grabbed my skates and snuck out into the cool night air.

I just needed to be alone. I hadn't been on the ice in over a month, maybe longer, and my soul was practically screaming for it. I missed that rush. I missed the cold wind hitting my face, the sharp bite of the blades cutting into the rink, and that surge of adrenaline that made me feel alive, even if I was never going to perform in front of an actual crowd again.

The rink was dark when I slipped inside, empty and dead silent. I crept over to the control box and flipped on a single overhead stage light. A beam of light sliced through the darkness, illuminating a circle of smooth, pristine ice right in the middle of the arena.

I stared at the gleaming surface, a genuine smile breaking across my face for the first time in weeks.

I laced up my skates, plugged in my music, and stepped onto the ice. The second my blades touched the surface, the anxiety melted away and I started moving. Swirling, gliding, throwing myself into spins and turns, completely lost in the rhythm. 

For a few glorious minutes, I wasn't the girl with the bruised cheek or the dad who dragged her from city to city. I was just weightless.

I was mid-glide, practically flying, when a slow, uneven clapping echoed from the shadows near the bleachers.

The noise shattered the moment. I gasped, my focus snapping in half. My blade caught an edge, my legs went out from under me, and I went down hard, hitting the ice on my butt.

“Whoa, hey! Easy,” a voice called out as someone started walking down the bleachers, raising both hands in mock surrender. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

I sat up, dusting the frost off my sweatpants and glaring dead holes into him. I didn't say a single word as I just pushed myself back up to my feet, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt, and started skating toward the edge to pack up my stuff.

So much for peace of mind.

“Where are you off to?”

He stepped directly into my path before I could even clear the gate, blocking me.

“Home,” I muttered, bending down to loosen my laces without looking at him.

“Why?”

My head snapped up at the nerve of this guy. I stared at him, taking in the unbothered guts it took for a complete stranger to interrogate me about going to my own house. 

“Who are you, anyway, to be questioning why I'm leaving?”

He let out a laugh, totally unfazed by the glare I was throwing him. “I'm only asking because you're leaving because of me.”

“It's not because of you,” I lied instantly, though it totally was. My brain was already screaming at me to get out of there before another human being invaded my tiny slice of peace.

He leaned against the barrier, crossing his arms. “Your skating was exceptional. Honestly, if you were a boy, you'd top the charts for hockey.”

The sudden compliment caught me off guard, slicing right through my annoyance. I blinked, my mouth opening before my brain could stop it. “Thank you,” I said despite myself.

Just then, he took a step forward, sliding directly into the pool of light beneath the single overhead lamp.

And oh.

My breath hitched in my throat. The light hit his features, and God, he was ridiculously handsome. Jawline like it was carved out of marble, dark eyes, and a smile that looked entirely too confident for his own good. His accent had already given him away the second he started walking down the bleachers but seeing the face to match it was almost unfair.

He extended a hand toward me. “I'm Ervis Rosanov.”

I looked down at his outstretched hand, then back up at his ridiculously sculpted face. My mind was doing weird little backflips, my skin still prickling from the adrenaline of falling earlier. I reached out, taking his hand.

“Rose,” I said softly.

“Rose,” he repeated, testing the word like it was something interesting. “Short, simple, classic. Like the flower, but hopefully with fewer thorns.”

I scoffed, pulling my hand back, but a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of my lips anyway. Great. He's charming. Just what my night was missing.

He walked over to the bench and sat down, pulling a pair of hockey skates out of a bag and lacing them up, “So, Rose. Do you do figure skating professionally, or do you just casually drop jaws in empty rinks at midnight?”

“I tried,” I said, leaning back against the glass boards, my fingers nervously picking at the frayed hem of my jacket. 

I tried and failed. Or rather, tried and got dragged away before I could even get my foot through the door. “It... didn't work out. I just came here tonight to clear my head.”

Ervis tied off his skates with a quick double knot and stood up and circled back toward me, stopping just an inch short of the barrier.

“I get that,” he murmured, his eyes holding mine for a beat too long. “Me too. The ice calms me down for some weird reason.”

Yeah. Noisy minds. I definitely knew a thing or two about that.

“Skate with me,” Ervis said, flashing a quick smile as he glided backward, extending a hand out toward me.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the cold wooden railing. 

Seriously? Skate with a total stranger at midnight? But the ice was practically calling my name, and honestly, anything was better than going back to that apartment.

I pushed off the edge, gliding toward him.

For the next few minutes, we just moved doing just basic twirls and glides under the stage light. He was remarkably light on his feet for a guy built like a truck.

I let out a chuckle, shaking my head as he executed a smooth turn. “You're actually really good at this. You know, for a hockey player.”

“Is that a insult or a compliment?” Ervis asked, a smirk pulling at his lips. He spun back around to face me. “My little sister wanted to be a figure skater. Every time I went back home to Russia, I spent hours on the ice with her training.”

A genuine smile crept onto my face before I could stop it. The beat of the music swelled through the quiet rink, and without even planning it, our movements locked in together. It was natural and effortless, like we’d been skating together for years instead of minutes.

As the song faded to a slow stop, we coasted into the center of the rink. Our momentum brought us together, our bodies colliding softly, the heat off his chest cutting through the freezing air.

We stopped. His hands were resting lightly on my waist, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up. Our faces were inches apart. My heart was hammering so loud against my ribs I was terrified he could hear it.

Ervis smiled down at me, “Krasivaya,” he murmured softly.

“What does that mean?” I whispered, my voice barely working.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

Before my overthinking brain could even process the word, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.

It wasn't a gentle, timid kiss. It was deep, warm, and overwhelming, sending a electric shock straight down my spine. My mind went totally blank for two whole seconds before cold reality slapped me right in the face.

What am I doing?

I snapped backward, pulling away so fast my skates almost slipped out from under me. “I—I'm sorry,” I gasped, my face burning hotter than fire as I put space between us. “I shouldn't have done that.”

Ervis just threw his head back and laughed, a low, smooth sound that made my chest tighten even more.

“I have to go,” I blurted out, turning on my heel and practically sprinting off the ice toward the bench. I ripped my skates off with trembling fingers, shoving them into my bag.

“I'd love to see you again, Rose!” He called out behind me, his voice echoing off the empty bleachers.

I didn't answer. I just shoved the exit door open and practically ran into the night.

I sure as hell didn't want to see him again.

Except... I did.

Over the next few days, I kept going back to the rink at the exact same time. And every single time, Ervis was there. It felt like some sick twist of fate, but if I was being honest with myself—and I hated being honest with myself—I was going back because of him. I was looking for him.

By our fourth or fifth night together, the realization hit me like a blow to the chest.

I was hopelessly falling in love with Ervis Rosanov.

And at the exact same time, there was Scott.