Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could already hear Claire saying I told you so.
God, I hated it when she was right.
Four days suddenly felt like a very long time, and I had a feeling Luka was going to be front and center of my thoughts for every damn one of them.
Luka
I walkedthe length of the corridor without really seeing it.
Athletes passed in the opposite direction. Someone said my name. I didn’t register who it was.
My mouth still tingled.
The thought arrived unexpectedly and refused to leave.
I stopped outside for a moment, letting the cold air hit my face.
It didn’t help.
Dean had kissed me.
Worse, I had kissed him back.
The memory returned immediately.
His hand against my jaw. The look in his eyes before he moved. The certainty of it.
I should have felt panic.
I found myself remembering how reluctant I had been to walk away.
Four days.
Kvrat, I wanted him, and it was time I stopped trying to convince myself otherwise.
Chapter Fourteen
Dean
Mark didn’t stopthe session immediately, and that alone told me I’d screwed up badly enough for him to start watching instead of correcting.
We had the rink to ourselves for twenty minutes before Ethan’s practice slot began. Usually Mark used every second of that time aggressively—adjusting timing, calling out corrections mid-sequence, stopping me halfway through a pass if an edge looked wrong by half an inch. Today he let me skate straight through the program without interruption, arms folded at the boards while that unreadable look settled deeper across his face with every lap.
By the time the music cut out, I already knew what he’d seen.
He handed me a towel. “Walk with me.”
His neutral tone made it worse.
I followed him along the edge of the rink while cold air clung damply to my skin beneath my training jacket. When we stopped near the far boards, he pulled out his phone and held it toward me.
“I need you to watch this.”
Then he hit play.
I frowned. “Since when are you recording my practices?”
“Since I needed proof.”
