I thought about Dean and Mila. Then I nodded, my chin high. “Yes.”
“You understand what people are going to say about this?”
“Yes.”
“And you still want to do it?”
“More than anything.”
Mark studied me for another moment. Then he pushed his chair back with a sigh and stood. “All right.”
I blinked. “Really?”
He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile.
Mark pointed toward the door. “Come on.”
I stilled. “Where are we going?”
He stared at me as though the answer should have been obvious.
“To find ice.”
Dean
Noah sat sideways onone of the couches with his legs stretched out in front of him, methodically destroying the label on a sports drink bottle while muted Olympic highlights flickered across the television overhead.
Every so often footage from the medal ceremony appeared on the screen.
Neither of us paid it much attention.
The athlete’s lounge was surprisingly empty. I guessed a lot of people were out either competing or else sightseeing, enjoying Milan before everything came to an end in less than a week’s time.
Which brought my attention back to Noah. I knew whyIwas scrolling—my boyfriend was busy with his partner.
Boyfriend. It was still new enough to send a trickle of pleasure through me.
Noah had missed out on a medal by about four places. He’d been content, though, expecting to do better in Nice in four years’ time. But his Olympics were over.
So what is on his mind?
He jerked his head up. “Where’s Luka?”
“He and Mila are working on their gala program.”
Noah nodded, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, the same way his fingers worried that damn label.
It lost another strip.
I cleared my throat. “You can ask.”
His head bobbed up again in a heartbeat. “Was I that obvious?”
I smirked. “You’ve been attacking that bottle for ten minutes.”
A reluctant grin appeared and vanished again. He peered at the mess in his hands before meeting my gaze. “What if what I want to ask you is something potentially invasive?”
