My throat tightened at the lack of mockery in her words. She wasn’t teasing me—she was describing something she had actually seen.
I thought about the last few days. Every time Dean entered a room. Every time I found myself looking for him without meaning to.
Every time I forgot to be careful.
Heat climbed my neck.
Bože.
She was right.
I had spent years learning how to hide.
Apparently Dean Foster had undone half of that work in less than a week.
We reached the exit doors together, cold February air rushing inside every time someone stepped through. Mila gave me one final look.
“Get some sleep tonight. And if you disappear into his room afterward, at least try to return looking less thoroughly kissed.”
I stared at her.
Mila’s composure finally cracked into open amusement. “Luka, please. I am not blind.”
Then she walked away, leaving me alone with entirely unhelpful advice.
My thoughts slipped from contemplative to carnal in a heartbeat: Dean’s warm, bare skin beneath my fingertips, his lips that had explored every inch of me, that first taste of his cock…
Heat barreled through me.
If she saw me now, she would be reaching for a fire extinguisher.
Dean
I cameoff the ice with my focus still sharp, my body humming with that clean exhaustion that meant everything had ended up exactly where it should.
Mark didn’t even try to hide his satisfaction.
“Thatis what happens when you stop fighting yourself every five seconds.”
I huffed and grabbed my bottle, mostly to give myself a reason not to answer too quickly.
Mark studied me for a second longer. “Whatever you’ve changed, leave it alone. Don’t start tinkering with it now because you’re nervous.”
A laugh threatened at the back of my throat.
If only he knew.
The thing that had changed involved Luka Davorin, a complete disregard for sensible timing, and whatever chemical reaction my brain underwent every time he showed up at my door.
It seemed emotional upheaval suited me.
Or maybe Luka did.
Mark patted me on the back. “You skate like this on Saturday, and gold starts looking a hell of a lot more realistic.” He grinned. “Because youknowCanada will be nipping at our heels.”
“Don’t forget Velkarya.” Ethan stood at the boards, a towel draped over one shoulder. “I watched their pairs practice this morning. Davorin and Kadanek are terrifying right now.”
Mark snorted. “Their pairs team can have their moment. Men’s singles is another story.” He pointed lazily between Ethan and me. “You two can skate circles around Iliev if you keep your heads on straight.” Then he headed for the door.
