Offside (60 page)

Yet another thing for Akira to worry about. She sprinted for the bathroom, not sure if she should head to the toilet to puke or to the sink to make sure she was presentable. Her stomach settled a little as she looked at herself in the mirror. Not too bad. Just a few smudges. She knew her routine. She’d worked hard with her team to perfect it. They would put on an amazing show.

What if they don’t? What if
I
don’t?
She pressed her eyes shut. And saw Dominik. Telling her she could do this. As he had again and again. She hadn’t seen him for almost a week, but the impact of his words hadn’t faded.

“Believe in yourself. At least half as much as I do.”
He’d kissed her, his big, dark hand so comforting and warm as it cupped her cheek.
“And yes, that’s an order.”

“Akira?”

Akira spun around and threw herself into her best friend’s arms, knowing Jami would understand. Needing a moment to be weak, needing to know she could and that it wouldn’t last.

Jami framed Akira’s face in her hands, drying her tears. “Hey. You didn’t think I wouldn’t show, did you? Just got off an early shift. I hate using Silver and my dad to get time off, but I wasn’t going to miss this. Someone else can cook the fucking hot dogs.”

“Jami . . .” Akira swallowed back a sob. It didn’t need to come out. She felt the strength return to her muscles, solidify in her bones. “I’m so happy you came. I just wish you could be out there with me.”

Grinning, Jami took her purse off her shoulder, quickly taking out some lip stain and blush. “Hey, I’ll try out again next season. How about we make sure you’re one of the people who gets a say in whether I make it or not?”

“That works for me.” Akira held still as Jami fixed her makeup. She mentally went over her routine. The tension eased from her brow as Jami swept a soft brush over her cheeks. “I can do this.”

“That’s right. But I thought you might need your own cheering squad.” Jami grinned as the door opened. “He wasn’t
too
busy.”

Dominik.
Larger than life in his uniform and even taller with his skates on, guards covering the blades. The harsh bathroom light cast a glow on his dark, black-scruffed cheeks. His lips curved into a warm smile.

Akira sobbed and ran to him, forgetting about her makeup and everything else. His arms around her, his solid chest, felt so wonderful. She knew, right then and there, that he would always be there to catch her. It didn’t matter that they didn’t have some big, long-lasting romance. Besides her father, he was the only man she’d ever been able to count on. He made the earth seem stable under her feet.

“I’m here, little one.” He held her close for a moment, then stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “They’re waiting for you. They need you to lead them.”

Akira blew out air to cool her face as Jami came to her side, clucking her tongue and repairing the damage done by her renewed tears. Staring up into Dominik’s dark eyes, Akira felt her heart take on a steady rhythm. She smiled up at him. “Like the Cobras need you.”

“Exactly. All the men will be on the bench, watching the show. And I think you know who the favorite for the Ice Girls’ captain is.” He tapped her nose and winked. “No question about you making it. The crowd decides how far. Don’t leave them with any doubts.”

“I won’t.” She stiffened her spine, walking ahead of Jami and Dominik into the hall, ready to lead her girls and get as many of them as possible on to the team. Every single one deserved it.

That was all that mattered until she saw who was waiting for her. Ten minutes was a long time to wait. The coaches would give any girl who needed it a few minutes. Amy had obviously taken advantage of that. And had found someone to give her a little moral support.

Ford set Amy away from him when he spotted Akira. He shook his head and opened his mouth.

She didn’t want to hear it. She gave him a cold smile, ignoring Amy. “It’s sweet of you to come down to support us, sir. The girls
love
how involved the owners are.”

“Akira.” Ford stepped toward her.

Dominik cut him off. “Akira, he’s management as a courtesy. Not an owner. Don’t give him too much credit.”

“I’m not.” Akira turned to Dominik, blocking out the
other
man as much as she could. Even though she was all too aware of Ford. So close. For some reason not going away like he should. She smoothed her hand over Dominik’s jersey, tracing the big C with her fingertip. “I’m going to work on getting me one of these.”

“You’d better.” Dominik kissed her forehead, then stood by the door, preventing Ford from following when it looked like he might. He called out before she let the door close, “After the game, I will see you.”

She placed her hand on the door, trying to keep her eyes on Dominik. Trying not to see Ford. She refused to give him any more of her time. “After the game, Sir, I’m all yours.”

The pain in Ford’s eyes didn’t bother her. Not in the least. She kept the image of him with Amy in the back of her mind in case the little voice within decided to be stupid. To forget. Of all the things he could have done to make this easy, being anywhere
near
Amy was at the top of the list.

Amy caught up with her before she could join the rest of the Ice Girls. “You put on a decent act, but I’m not blind. You want him.”

Akira stopped. Faced Amy, her tone level and cold. “You must be pretty desperate to try to use him against me. But I’m not surprised. There’s no way someone like you could care more about a friend than about a hot guy with a big dick.”

“I’ve heard he has a
huge
dick. From the girls who had fun with him on the cruise.” Amy covered her mouth, giggling. “Not that you were missing out. Props to you, you sleazy little chink. Fucking the Cobras’ captain does give you a bit of a head start. But I don’t think the fans care who you’re sleeping with.”

“For once, you’re right, Amy.” Akira joined her girls, smiling sweetly at the bitch who trailed her, the racial slur doing nothing more than stiffening her spine with resolve. “The fans will be looking at what we do out there. So good luck.”

“I don’t need it. But hey, if it’s any condolence, my dad owns a few Chinese restaurants. I’m sure I could get you in as a waitress. I hear the tips are good.”

“Amy, will you shut up?” Sahara stepped away from her group, shaking as though it took everything she had not to slap the other woman. “I wish the fans could hear this. No way would they vote for an ignorant little cunt like you. When you say shit like that, I just want to—”

Grabbing Sahara’s arm, Akira drew the tall blond aside, Amy’s laughter nothing but white noise, like the excited clamor of the crowd beyond the steel doors. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t react. That’s what she wants.”

“I know, but—” Sahara pursed her bright red lips. “You’re right. I’m the veteran. I should be saying this to you.”

“Hey, you’ve had my back through everything.” Akira hugged Sahara, so happy they weren’t really competing against one another, even though it would look like they were. “I’ve got yours. Always.” Her cheeks heated. She lowered her voice. “I probably won’t be home tonight. Neither will Jami. If you are, can you take care of Peanut?”

“Jami already asked.” Sahara laughed. “Will do. That bird is everything a single lady could ever want.” As Keane’s voice boomed from the speakers, announcing the competition and thanking all the fans for attending, her lips thinned. She laughed again, the sound overly bright. “I’m thinking some ice cream and
The Notebook.
In case you decide to come home early.” She batted her eyelashes. “And if you do, I will
so
bug you about it all night!”

“Won’t happen.” Akira wrinkled her nose at Sahara’s knowing smirk, then went back to her girls, squeezing a few hands and whispering words of encouragement to the ones who looked like they needed it. Amy’s group went first.

Each group consisted of seven girls. Only the top ten voted for by the fans—either online or by text, would make up the core team. A second vote would pick the captain. Silver Delgado’s original plan had been to start with a small squad, but Mr. Keane had taken over, scouting for experienced girls like Sahara to add. Sahara, and whomever was chosen as captain of the team, would get the final say on any new recruits.

Amy was good. Very good. As much as Akira hated to admit it, she still had a chance of getting that coveted C.

The doors leading out to the rink were left open, giving all the Ice Girl finalists a clear view of what they were up against. The Jumbotron over the rink provided a close-up of Amy’s gleaming, toothy smile before the lights went out. A golden spotlight came on. Forming an arrowhead on the dance mat spread over the ice, with Amy at the center, the seven girls began a slow, provocative sway to Britney Spears’ “Criminal.”

Not a bad show, the audience seemed to like it, but Akira felt bad for the girls on Amy’s team. Their moves were uniform, and they were nothing but backup dancers to their leader’s elaborate, erotic performance. Maybe it was just bitterness on her part, but Akira was a little surprised Amy hadn’t asked for a pole to go along with her routine.

Doesn’t matter. It’s time to get out there and show them what you’ve got.
Akira glanced back at her girls, gave them a bracing smile, then took off running onto the ice as Amy’s group cleared the way. The grips of her shoes were specially made to prevent slipping, but she was still a little nervous about falling on her butt as her legs shook.

Her girls formed a circle. The spotlight pulsed, giving the rink a club feel. “S.O.S.” by Jordin Sparks kicked up, and she threw herself into the music, thrusting her hips, tossing her hair around, lifting her arms up high. All the girls spun to face the crowd, jumping up and down as the chorus began.

The words to the song gave them so much to work with as a group, but one part of the song did more. Akira had worked with the choreographer to give every single girl a chance to move to the center of the circle and show off her unique skills. The movement never stopped, but the girl in the center drew the spotlight. The attention of the crowd. One girl grinded low. Another did a break-dance move. A ballet specialist did a pirouette that ended in the splits.

At the climax of the song, the girls widened their circle. The finishing move had been decided on by a unanimous vote. Akira backed up a few steps, praying she didn’t let them down. Without much space, she couldn’t run far. But she had enough space for her layout.

Two long strides and she flew into handspring, then a backspring, giving herself enough height for a nice twist and a smooth landing. Her pulse echoed in her ears along with the roar of the crowd. Her team took their poses around her. Adrenaline had her trembling like a wet puppy sitting out in the cold. But in seconds she was surrounded, the girls hugging her and chattering enthusiastically as they herded her off the ice.

A coach gave her a thumbs up, handing her a big grey Cobra sweater as she returned to the hall. Her girls huddled around her, quiet now as Sahara’s team lined up on the dance mat. No music. No lights. Sahara started clapping and stomping a familiar beat. The other girls followed her, and soon the crowd had joined in.

You bitch!
Akira thought without menace, laughing as the girls in the hall started clamping and stomping as well. “We Will Rock You” by Queen. Sahara screamed the opening line, most of the crowd singing with her. The music blasted and Sahara’s girls threw themselves into the dance, perfectly coordinated, stopping at the chorus to clap and stomp, then gesturing for the crowd to sing louder.

Not a fancy routine, but everyone in the stands stood at the end, revved up, involved, and ready for the game. Which was the point.

Sahara and her team took a bow, then bounced around, waving for the crowd to keep cheering as Amy and Akira’s teams returned to the dance mat. The announcer reminded everyone to “Vote! And vote often!”

As Akira headed for the Ice Girls’ changing room, she heard the anthem starting up on the rink. If she hurried, she might be able to see the puck drop from the owner’s box. Mr. Richter had invited her, Sahara, and Jami, and she was looking forward to watching Dominik play. Sahara waited for her as she pulled on a pair of jeans. They ran all the way to the elevator together, smothering giggles with their hands before opening the door to the owner’s box.

The blood left Akira’s face as one of the men near the large window overlooking the rink glanced back. Ford frowned as she took a step backward, then turned to face the glass. Akira hugged herself and bit her bottom lip as Sahara guided her to the other side of the room.

Jami came to meet them, an apologetic smile on her lips. She pressed close to Akira’s side, speaking low. “Akira, you don’t have to talk to him. I promise, he won’t bother you.”

Damn it, Akira refused to let Ford make her feel uncomfortable here. She would be around often, and they’d have to learn to deal with seeing one another occasionally.
And he has to deal with the fact that I will
never
let him close to me again.

She jutted her chin up, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it, Jami. I should talk to him anyway. There are a few things we have to clear up.”

Sahara opened her mouth, exchanged a look with Jami, then patted Akira’s shoulder. “We’re here if you need us.”

As the American anthem trailed off, Akira approached Ford, a lot less anxious than she’d thought she’d be. Mr. Richter was there with his assistant, his gaze like a steady, supportive hand on her back. She wasn’t alone.

Ford was. And she almost felt sorry for him.

But just a little.

“You’ve decided to stop giving me the silent treatment?” Ford folded his arms over his chest, not looking at her.

“I spoke to you earlier.”

He snorted. “Right. You
appreciate
my presence.”

“Amy certainly did.” She bit out the words, then shook her head, inhaling slowly. That made her sound jealous and she wasn’t that.
At all.
She licked her bottom lip. “Look, we will never be friends, but we can be civil.”