Page 72 of About to Fall

“And is that all you want to be?”

The question hung there. I could deflect. I was good at deflecting.

“Maybe… I wouldn’t say no to more.”

“But?”

“But I’ve never been in a relationship.” I shrugged. “And Nicky is a relationship hopper. I’m a fuckboy who’s never made it past a third date.”

“You’re 23, dude. That’s not a life sentence.” She crossed her arms tighter. “And he’s had a bad run with guys. If you’re just going to break his heart, leave him alone. Nico collects people who hurt him. It’s his specialty.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You can mean well and still fuck it up.”

“That’s true,” I said. “But I can promise I'm paying attention. I know what he's been through, Sabrina. Not the press version.”

I watched it land—the slight widening of her eyes, the recalibration happening behind them. She'd been prepared for deflection, for charm, for the Adrian Zhao who treated everything like a bit. She had not been prepared for that.

“He told you,” she said. Not a question.

“He told me.”

She was quiet for a rare moment. Didn't try to fill it with a joke or a shrug or any of the usual shit I pulled when a conversation got too real.

“Just because I haven’t been in a relationship doesn’t mean I don’t want one. Maybe I just hadn’t met anyone worth the effort.” I held her gaze. “Maybe it’s time someone broke the pattern. For both of us.”

I could practically see the calculations running behind her eyes—every way this could blow up, every worst case scenario, every version of the story that ended with Nicky worse off than before. But underneath all that, something else. The look of a person who loved someone enough to want them to be happy, even if the source of that happiness came in a package she hadn't expected.

Then, slowly, some of the tension bled out of her shoulders.

“If you fuck this up,” she said pleasantly, “I will make sure something terrible happens to you outside the rink. Nothing career ending. I’m not unreasonable. Just painful enough that you’ll think of your mistake every time it rains.”

“Noted.”

“Good.” She smiled brightly, like she hadn’t threatened bodily harm two seconds ago. “Now let’s go find our rooms. I need a shower and a nap before I can be a real person again.”

Nicky returned with the keycards, handing them out. His fingers brushed mine when he passed me my envelope. The touch was brief but still sent tingles up my arm.

“416,” he said. “I’m in 414. Sabrina’s in 412.”

Right next door.

How convenient.

33. Nico

It felt nice to have my own room again.

Or it should have.

I tossed the blanket onto a nearby armchair and pulled back the top sheet—my hotel routine no matter how nice the accommodations. Hung up all my clothes. Shook out my costumes and checked for wrinkles. Arranged my toiletries on the bathroom counter in the specific order I liked. Now I was lounging on my bed staring at my phone.

Waiting.

Waiting for what?

Adrian and I had finally exchanged phone numbers a few days ago and we’d begun a tentative texting routine. Mostly related to the Avatar episodes I was watching. Maybe a funny TikTok. The occasional skating video with commentary.