Break Up with Him, for Me (You Belong With Me 1)

“OnlyFans doesn’t bother me,” I said, trying to think of a way to get her the hell out of my place.

If her need to use my place like a mini-movie studio was the only thing that made me raise my eyebrow, I would’ve agreed to let her stay, but the more she walked around, the more red flags she threw.

She let her Chihuahua run wild the moment she stepped inside, and she encouraged him to pee in my plant since, “It’s good fertilizer for it. Trust me.”

“Well, I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I think you and I will make an incredible match.”

“I’ll let you know.” I forced a smile.

“Be sure to call me with a ‘Yes’ before eight tonight,” she said. “I’m taking Rex to the doggy spa, and I don’t answer calls when I’m there.”

Right. “Will do.”

The moment she stepped onto the elevator, I picked up my plant and held it under the tap. Then I scratched out her name and looked at the last potential on my list: Ashley Brave.

If this last interview didn’t work out, I’d have to choose between a chain smoking foodie and a mortician who warned me that she liked to hang up pictures of her “best work.”

Shuddering, I downed a glass of wine and watched the minute hand tick toward four thirty.

The doorbell sounded right on time, and I rushed over and swung the door open.

What the …

It took everything in me not to slam the door in her face.

This woman’s name wasn’t Ashley Brave. It was Tatiana Brave, and I’d live in a homeless shelter before living with her.

My fiercest competitor, and the only reason why I was missing three particular medals, she was still stunning as hell.

Her sun-kissed brown skin, curly hair, and hazel-colored eyes were striking as ever, and she looked like she could jump onto the ice and compete with ease.

Ugh. “It’s you.”

“You.” She glared at me.

Too bitter to speak, I crossed my arms—waiting to see if she’d steal the first word like she’d stolen my ranking several years ago.

“If I had known this place was yours,” she said, “I would’ve never answered the ad.”

“It’s a good thing you did.” I shrugged. “You can get a good look at a beautiful place where you’ll never stay.”

“I’ve always known that you were a cold-hearted bitch.”

“I’ve always known that you were a bigger one.”

“I’d die before living here.”

“Do you see me offering to let you in?” I started to slam the door in her face. “Good luck with your search.”

“Wait,” she said, wedging her foot against the frame. “I hate to ask, but can I please use your bathroom before I go?”

Offer her the plant to piss in.

“Fine.” I opened the door. “It’s down the hall and to the left. Make sure you get a good look at my medal collection on your way there. Pay special attention to the gold one from the Olympics in Sochi.”

“Too bad you’re missing the gold one from Pyeongchang.” She shrugged. “I wonder who won that one.”

“You have two minutes to handle your business and get the hell out.”

“It’ll take me less than that.” She walked down the hall and shut the door.

I immediately pulled out my phone and texted Hayden.

Me: I’m going with the mortician. Can you have Sarah run the background check for me?

His response was immediate.

Just Hayden: Are you sure? She gets aroused by staring at dead bodies, Pen.

Me: 100%.

Tatiana emerged from the bathroom as I hit send.

“Your bathroom is nice,” she said. “Is that the only one?”

“No, there are three. Two more you’ll never see.”

She slid her purse over her shoulder and looked me right in my eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated another person the way I hated you.”

“The feeling will always be mutual.”

Silence.

We stared at each other, years of on-ice battles hanging between us. The utter viciousness I felt toward her hadn’t dissipated in the slightest.

“What are you doing now?” she asked. “Like, career-wise.”

I said nothing.

“I heard that you never got all your memory back after the fall. Is that true?” She looked somewhat sincere, and I hated that.

“I get bits and pieces back on some days, but I’m still missing a lot, and the memories are never in order.”

“Are you coaching?”

“I coach off and on,” I admitted. “I have a few private clients, but they’re not worth mentioning.”

“Let me guess. They have rich parents who are wasting their money since the kids can’t skate their way off the railing?”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “I give inspirational speeches to colleges and sports teams, too. I have one coming up in a few weeks in California actually.”

“Does that pay well?”

“Sometimes.” I paused. “Not ‘living in New York’ well. Hence, the roommate thing. I doubt it pays as well as your career.”