I sighed. “You always sound like you’re about to ruin my day.”
“I’m observing.” Ethan leaned back against the lockers. “You nearly doubled a turn sequence because Blond Tragic Figure skated past you.”
I stared at him. “Blond tragic figure?”
“The Velkaryan.”
“That’s not a nickname.”
“It’s absolutely a nickname. And you know I’m right.”
“It was nothing.” I yanked one skate off and set it down against the floor with a dull thud.
Ethan grinned. “Wow. Aggressive skate removal.”
“It’s a new team,” I muttered. “Different dynamic.”
“One guy, you mean.”
My hands stopped moving.
Damn it.
Ethan jabbed a finger in my direction. “There it is.”
I leaned back against the lockers and dragged a hand through my hair. “They’re good skaters.”
Ethan folded his arms. “You weren’t watching the skating.”
I frowned at him. “What exactly do you think I noticed?”
He shrugged. “You tell me.” Then he nudged my shoulder. “Relax. I’m not interrogating you.”
“Feels suspiciously close.”
“That’s because you’ve spent the last twenty minutes pretending you weren’t distracted.”
“Iwasn’tdistracted.”
The pause before I answered was probably a mistake.
Ethan went quiet.
That was worse. Usually he would’ve kept talking until I threatened violence.
When I glanced back over, Ethan was studying me now. That teasing look had vanished.
“You know what the weird part is?” he asked.
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
Ethan tilted his head. “You weren’t looking at him because he’s good.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means you look at good skaters all the time.” His expression stayed maddeningly thoughtful. “That wasn’t what you were doing.” He held my gaze for another second, then shrugged. “Okay.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s it?”
