Dean shifted his chair as I sat down, his knee brushing mine beneath the table before moving away again.
A tiny contact that was still enough to steady something inside me.
Keisha sat opposite us wearing a Canadian team hoodie, armed with enough confidence to light the entire cafeteria by herself. Beside her sat Ingrid, tall and broad-shouldered with pale blond hair tied messily back from her face.
I knew both of them by reputation. Everyone did, not only because they were excellent skaters, but because they were openly themselves.
Keisha caught me looking and grinned. “You decided to join the American table? You brave man.”
I bit back a smile. “I am still assessing the danger level.”
“That’s fair.” Ingrid smirked. “Noah alone raises it significantly.”
“Hey!” Noah objected around a mouthful of toast.
Keisha stretched in her seat. “Honestly, though, it’s nice seeing another surviving pairs guy in here. Ice dancers are exhausting.”
Dean blinked. “You literallyarean ice dancer.”
“Exactly. I know what I’m talking about.”
More laughter followed, and I found myself relaxing despite every instinct telling me not to.
Keisha casually referenced an ex-girlfriend at one point and Noah asked whether the breakup had affected her choreography. Ingrid mentioned a woman she’d met in Milan, and Ethan immediately demanded details.
I sat there listening.
For a moment I forgot to guard anything.
A sudden burst of laughter near the cafeteria entrance pulled my attention away in time to see a tall blond woman in a Swiss ski team jacket approach the table, confidence in every stride.
Dean looked up as she stopped beside him, but it was clear he didn’t know her.
“Dean Foster, right?”
“That’s me.”
Her smile widened. “I saw your skate last night. Very impressive.”
“Thanks.”
She leaned closer, her eyes bright. “I’m Lena.”
“Dean.”
Lena chuckled. “Yes, I know.”
The table went quiet, and I recognized Noah’s expression instantly.
Anticipation.
Lena rested one elbow against the back of Dean’s chair. “So I was wondering…” Her smile turned openly flirtatious. “Do you maybe want my room number?”
Ethan made a choking sound into his coffee.
Dean blinked, obviously caught off guard. Then he gave her a polite smile. “That’s flattering, but I’m here to compete. I’m trying to stay focused.”
The disappointment on her face was immediate, though she recovered quickly.
