Valentina stood up, adjusting a single, dark strand of hair that had slipped free, and glanced at her partner with what could only be described as barely concealed disdain. This was going to be an interesting match.

Of course, they both knew why they'd been paired together—to bring some 'cohesive tension,' as the coach had so delicately put it.

And by 'tension,' they clearly meant 'fire and ice.' It would be a miracle if they both survived the routine without frostbite... or a bruised ego.

The routine was ambitious, even by her standards. Lifts, intricate spins, and jumps that left no room for error. She couldn't deny his skill—he had that natural athleticism and strength that, admittedly, made him a solid partner for these stunts. But it was that face. That insufferable, infuriating look of his that said, 'I don't need this.' She'd seen that arrogant gleam in his eyes enough times to know it wasn't going away anytime soon.

Valentina straightened, lacing her skates as if threading each eyelet were part of a meticulous battle strategy. She could practically hear their coach's words echoing in her mind: 'Play nice. Smile.' The 'smile' part? Maybe she'd manage, if he didn't open his mouth.

She could still remember how he'd reacted when their coach had announced their pairing. The way he'd rolled his eyes—not exactly subtle.

As if she'd jumped at the chance to be his partner. Honestly, she'd rather glide straight into a wall.

But, in the name of competition and public 'cohesion,' here she was, trying not to picture slapping that smug look off his face mid-twirl.

'You know I hate you right?'