I stood there for another few seconds, then I walked the other way.
It should have felt like winning an argument.
Except I couldn’t stop hearing:
I saw you, Luka.
The words followed me all the way down the corridor.
Dean
I wasn’t payingenough attention to my own skating.
That became obvious about halfway through the step sequencewhen Mark called for another run and I realized I couldn’t actually remember the last correction he’d given me. Edge control, maybe. Timing through the transition. Hold the curve longer before the turn.
I nodded anyway, reset, and pushed through the sequence again on instinct alone.
My body still knew what to do even while my concentration drifted somewhere else.
I came out of the final turn clean and slowed near the boards, breathing evenly while the momentum bled out of my legs.
“That them?” Ethan’s voice came from beside me.
“Who?”
Ethan gave me a look.
“Blond Tragic Figure and company.”
I knew who he meant before I looked.
Davorin and his partner stood just outside the rink entrance near the benches.
“Yeah.”
Ethan was quiet for a second. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Everybody keeps talking about their chemistry. The media’s eating it alive this week.”
I looked back toward them. Davorin hadn’t moved. Neither had she.
“You think they’re together?” Ethan asked.
“Maybe.” It was a reasonable assumption. Half the pair teams blurred professional and personal lines anyway.
Ethan tilted his head. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Something’s off.”
I frowned. “You got all that from thirty seconds across a rink?”
“You watch people long enough, you start recognizing patterns.” He inclined his head toward them. “Look at her.”
She was saying something low and direct while holding Davorin’sgaze. Whatever the conversation was about, she wasn’t backing down. There was pressure in the way she stood there, steady and deliberate.
