Chapter 1: Collision on Thin Ice
The air at the village rink was sharp, biting into Olesya’s cheeks as she laced up her skates with a determined tug. She hadn’t been here in months, avoiding this place like the plague because of *him*—Maksim. That bastard had made her life hell since the day she and Sasha had trashed his precious bike three years ago. She’d apologized, damn it, twice in messages, but no, he wanted her groveling in person. Fat chance. Olesya wasn’t the type to bow down, not to a prick like him.
‘If he shows up, I’ll skate circles around him,’ she muttered to herself, her breath fogging in the frigid air. Her piercing glinted under her cropped jacket, a little act of rebellion she knew drove him crazy. He’d been obsessed with seeing her navel since she got it done last summer, and she’d be damned if she gave him the satisfaction.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Maksim’s broad frame appeared at the rink’s edge, his dark eyes locking onto her like a predator. Her stomach twisted—not just from fear, but from something hotter, uglier. Hate, sure, but also a spark she refused to name. He smirked, stepping onto the ice with a swagger that made her want to slap him.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t the bike-wrecking whore,’ he drawled, skating closer. ‘Thought you’d hide from me forever, huh, fatty?’
Olesya’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t flinch, gliding backward with a taunting grin. ‘Keep talking, Maksim. Maybe one day you’ll say something worth hearing instead of barking like a pathetic dog.’
His eyes narrowed, but a flicker of something else—hunger, maybe—flashed through them as they darted to her midriff, where her jacket rode up just enough to tease. ‘Still playing hard to get? I bet that piercing looks better up close. Why don’t you show me, huh? Or are you too scared I’ll make you cry again?’
Her laugh was sharp, cutting through the icy air. ‘Dream on, asshole. You couldn’t handle me even if I handed myself over on a silver platter. And trust me, I’d rather die than let you anywhere near me.’
Maksim’s smirk grew darker, and he closed the distance between them in a few powerful strides, his skates scraping the ice. ‘Oh, I’ll get near you, Olesya. One way or another. You owe me more than a sorry for that bike. And I always collect.’
Her heart pounded, not just from his threat but from the heat radiating off him, the way his gaze pinned her like she was prey. She hated him—god, she hated him—but her body betrayed her with a flush she couldn’t ignore. She spun away, her skates slicing the ice, but he was faster, grabbing her arm and yanking her back. Their bodies collided, her chest pressing against his hard frame, and for a split second, neither moved.
‘Let go, you piece of shit,’ she hissed, but her voice wavered, her breath catching as his grip tightened, his thumb brushing just under her jacket, dangerously close to the skin she’d kept hidden from him.
‘Make me,’ he growled, his voice low, dripping with challenge. His other hand slid to her waist, bold and unapologetic, and she felt a jolt of something raw, something that made her want to scream—or worse, pull him closer. The rink spun around them, the cold air no match for the fire building between their locked stares.
She shoved at his chest, but her hands lingered a second too long, feeling the heat through his shirt. ‘You’re disgusting,’ she spat, but her words lacked bite, and he knew it. His grin was feral now, sensing her cracks.
‘Am I? Then why’re you trembling, Olesya? Scared… or something else?’ His breath was hot against her ear, and she hated how it made her pulse race, how it made her imagine things she’d never admit. Things involving him, her, and a whole lot less clothing.
The tension snapped taut, ready to break, as his hand slid lower, daring her to stop him. And for the first time, Olesya wasn’t sure she wanted to.
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