A Little Something Different (22 page)

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“Unbelievable,” Cara said.

She’d gone on dozens of whale-watching tours, but had never before seen a whale spyhop this close. The crisscrossed markings on the back of the large whale’s head told her this was Crossback, a gray migrating through the area with her baby, Bobbi.

“I can’t believe she’s letting you touch her,” Cara said to David.

“It’s amazing,” he said.

She readied her camera and snapped shots of Crossback, and then Bobbi, who poked his smaller head out of the water behind his mother.

“What brings you so close today, Crossback?” she asked.

“You know this whale?” David asked.

In the excitement of the moment, she ignored the impulse to lean away from him. She inched closer, until her arm brushed his, and spoke in his ear. “This is Crossback. And that’s her baby, Bobbi.”

She reached out to smooth a hand over Crossback’s face and savored the cold, slippery sensation. An instant later, even though her fingers didn’t touch David’s, a warm tingle tickled her fingers where they met Crossback’s skin. The warmth trickled up her arm, spread through her chest, and exploded outward, toward David.

With both their hands still touching Crossback, Cara and David turned to look at each other. The intensity of his gaze told her he also sensed the warmth that wrapped around them, the invisible energy radiating between them, connecting them.

Unsure of what was happening, and just as unsure of how she felt about it, she pulled her hand away from Crossback. She stood, and David did the same. Crossback and Bobbi dipped beneath the surface of the water and disappeared.

Cara tried to disappear too, heading back to her seat to stash the camera and binoculars. No way was she going to crush on a tourist.

Just then she heard a loud thump, and the boat rocked. Off balance, she scrambled to find her footing. Over her shoulder, she spotted shiny black whale skin and two rows of gigantic, cone-shaped white teeth as the orca again bumped the boat.

Reaching for something to hold onto, she only grasped air as she fell over
The Lookout
’s side.

This can’t be happening
. The thought played over and over as frigid water hit her face and chest, lapping at her cheeks and biting her skin. She gasped reflexively, thankful her head was above water. Her breaths came hard and fast as she shivered.

“I’ll throw you a life ring!” Rick hollered.

The freezing water pierced Cara’s fingers, and swell after swell washed over her face. Gasping for breath, she choked on a mouthful of seawater. Her life jacket pulled from her arms and sprang up over her head. Somehow, she’d forgotten to fasten it.

Her arms and legs flailed as she sank beneath the surface. The water was black as tar, the only visible light shining from a spot above that grew more distant with each second.

Something bumped her leg. Opening her mouth to scream, a stream of salt water rushed down her throat. Her lungs heaved and demanded air. She pressed her lips together and struggled harder to flap and kick with her heavy limbs.

From beneath, she was lifted and thrust upward. Above, the muted glow grew brighter. A pair of strong hands reached down and pulled her up.

As her head cleared the surface, her vision blurred. Her chest convulsed and she coughed, forcing the water she’d inhaled out of her lungs. Salt water burned her throat and nose until she finally drew in long, rasping breaths.

She caught a glimpse of Crossback’s markings as the gray surfaced for air, then dove back underwater.

“I got you. We need to get back on the boat,” an urgent, yet soothing, voice told her.

David
. He’d rested her on top of his life jacket. She looked into his intent green eyes. The water had frozen her to the core, yet a touch of warmth filled her chest. David floated, partially on his back, and held her hands behind his neck.

“Hold on to me. Don’t let go,” he said.

Partners for life, or just on the ice?

Maddie Spear has been in love with the boy next door
forever
.

Will their new romantic skating program be the big break she’s been hoping for, or the big breakup that Gabe has always feared?

Find out in this intensely romantic novel from

F
EBRUARY 3, 2015

Gabe

A love story? This is some sort of deranged joke. Except Igor doesn’t crack jokes. He barely knows how to smile.

I glance at Mad going all starry-eyed next to me. I’ve heard correctly. I look back at Igor and hold my eyes steady on him, but my insides are shaking worse than when I told Kurt I was quitting hockey just before the bantam travel team championships.

Igor nods his head toward our water bottles at the boards. “I leave copies of the music there. You listen at home tonight, yes? For today, we see what we have to begin.” He cracks his knuckles under his leather gloves. “Death spiral again. Before, you skate for audience. This time? No audience. Only Madelyn and Gabriel. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I understand, but there’s an ice rink’s chance in hell that I’m actually going to do what he wants. I take the lead and set my pivot, looking at the empty bleachers. It’s been
Madelyn and Gabriel
for longer than I can remember. I let her hack off all my hair in preschool. I quit hockey for her. I broke my arm for her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her … except this. She’s like my sister, the way we read each other so well. Sib closeness, I can deal with. That’s where it stops.

On the exit, I push out so my back is facing Igor and I stare over the top of Mad’s head. Epic fail on my mission to fool our coach. “Again,” he says. “You must look, Gabriel.”

This time, I watch the skate on Mad’s free foot as she circles around me. Igor is skating toward us before we’ve even finished the move. He nods at Mad. “Good, Madelyn. I have changed my mind. We listen to music now. Put it on.”

Mad skates off, leaving me alone with the KGB. “I do not believe,” Igor says. “
Make me believe.
”

I kick at the ice with my toe pick. Disrespectful, yeah, but a trip to the penalty box is sounding like a winning idea right now. I’ve known this day was coming. Known it since I first made myself look away from Mad’s arched chest and … “I can’t.”

Igor steps closer, and I stop. I’m not sure what he’ll do if I accidentally kick
him
but I’m sure I don’t want to find out. His breath makes warm puffs of air in my face. “Do not tell me, ‘I can’t.’ ‘I can’t’ is not part of plan.”

For years, I’ve trusted Igor’s plans. For good reason. He’s coached me and Mad to the national junior pair title and three Junior Grand Prix medals, including a fourth-place finish at the final last year. But … “This is Mad.”

Igor’s stainless steel eyes glint at me. “You want to win, yes?”

“Yes,” I whisper. Mom’s medals gleam in the back of my mind. I
need
to win.

“So you pretend. You need me to, what do we say, write it out?”

I don’t need Igor to spell it out. I know how to get a girl going. Trouble is, I’m not so hot at
keeping
things going. Mad returns and I ease her into the move once again, this time to the long, desperate notes of the music. I look at her face. “Sister, sister, sister,” I chant to myself. But there’s a cartoon red devil on my shoulder reminding me I’m an only child. Okay then: “Friend?”

My feeble attempt only spawns another devil. They slap each other five. “With benefits!” they chorus.

Where the hell are my angels? “No.”

I must’ve said it out loud, because Mad startles. She slips off her edge and falls out of the spiral. She was only a few inches from the ice, but still. Stupidest move in the world to fall on. Even juvenile pairs do it in their sleep. I help her up. “Sorry.”

“Madelyn,” Igor says, his voice as sickly as a tornado-warning sky, “please go work on your brackets for a moment.”

Igor’s temper usually blows on Chris’s shenanigans, but today, I get the twister cloud eyes. “I see you. All those girls, under bleachers at hockey games. What is problem here?” His gloved fingers curl, now black claws.

I look at Mad, zipping through her brackets. She attacks the twisty turns, the determination fierce on her face. She puts so much power into the pattern that she almost slams into the barrier at the end. That’s the problem. I’ve compartmentalized my life for so long, but Mad has no fear of the barrier.

I look back at Igor, watching me watch Mad. His fingers have relaxed in his gloves. “Is pretend,” he says, cajoling now. “But we are needing under the bleachers. Mind in storm drain.”

If I let my mind go in the gutter, I’ll never get it out.

“Madelyn,” Igor calls. “Get a drink. We resume.”

I skate over for a drink, too. Anything to stall.

Mad plunks her water bottle down on the barrier. She keeps her chin up but she doesn’t look at me. “Am I that disgusting?”

“What?”

“You won’t even look at me.”

“No.” Shiny dark brown hair. Eyes as wide and blue as summer sky. Cheeks splashed with such tiny freckles that I want to lean in close just to see them. Barrier. God, I need that barrier. “Mad. No.”

“Forget it, forget I said anything.” She skates back to Igor.

I follow, but this time, it’s me stretching my hand out to her. Once more, we set up for the move. I do what Igor wants. I watch the white of Mad’s neck as her head dips backward, let my eyes trail from those perfect collarbones over the bloomed arch of her chest. Mad’s circling smoothly around me, but my whole world is waterfalling down the storm drain.

On the exit, my heart is pounding so loud I can’t even hear the music. We present, arms locked out, free legs extended. But I can’t stop. I take an extra stroke toward Mad, my face right up to those barely there freckles. “You’re disgustingly beautiful.” With my eyes locked on hers, I miss Igor’s reaction. But I don’t need even a nod to know this time was exactly what he wanted.