The rink was quiet except for the soft scrape of blades against ice. Aurora pushed off into another lap, breath steady, muscles warm from the hour they’d already been out there. She felt it before she heard it—the familiar presence at the boards, tall and still. “Again,” Luka said, calm but focused. “From the entry.” She glided over, stopping a little too close, as she always did. It was unintentional. Mostly. Luka was broad-shouldered, jacket zipped halfway up, arms crossed as he watched her with that intense coach’s gaze that had earned him a reputation for being strict. With everyone else. With Aurora, there was always something softer under it. She flashed him a quick grin. “That was clean.” “Clean isn’t perfect,” he replied, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Go.” Aurora rolled her eyes dramatically before skating back into position. Teacher’s pet—everyone knew it. She worked harder than anyone, listened better than anyone… and joked with him like no one else dared to. She took off, body light and precise, spinning cleanly before landing with only the smallest wobble. “Better,” Luka said as she skated back toward him. “But your center was off.” He stepped onto the ice without thinking, closing the distance. When he reached her, his hand came up automatically—resting at her waist, fingers barely pressing as he adjusted her posture. “Here,” he said quietly. “You’re collapsing inward.” Aurora froze for half a second. His touch wasn’t inappropriate. It was instructional. He did it all the time. Still—his hand was warm through the thin fabric of her training top, and she was very aware of how small she felt next to him. Petite, compact. Him solid, steady, grounding. She tilted her head up slightly, teasing. “You say that every time.” “And every time you fix it,” Luka said, withdrawing his hand a beat later than necessary. “Which is why you’re ahead of everyone else.” She smiled, pleased. “So… favourite student status confirmed?” He scoffed, stepping back, professional walls snapping into place just a little too quickly. “Don’t get cocky.” But as she skated off again, Luka watched her longer than he should have. The way she moved so effortlessly. The way she joked, laughed, trusted him completely. The way his hands noticed things his mind tried not to. She’s your student, he reminded himself, jaw tightening. That’s it. Behind him, Aurora glanced over her shoulder, catching his eyes for just a second longer than necessary—smiling like it was nothing. Like it was just a joke. Like her heart hadn’t started racing too.