Page 23

NINE

REN

It was bad, but salvageable. Nobody had seen me at the bar, nobody knew Cam and I had spent the night in a hotel room together, and nobody had to know anything out of the ordinary had happened in Sapporo. But I wasn’t going back to the Village, not yet.

My phone said it was seven a.m. I should have been up, finished breakfast, stretching, and preparing for the day. Instead, I stared at the ceiling of a random hotel in Sapporo, my head woozy and my stomach not fit for dancing anytime soon. I could make afternoon practice, but this morning was a loss.

I texted the team, and told them I was taking the morning off, while Cam snored softly in the chair. I watched him a little while, then sat up and gently nudged his knee to wake him.

His eyes shot open. His gaze settled on me and softened. “You’re up,” he croaked, and adjusted his legs to try and stretch.

“Regrettably.”

“What time is it?” He ruffled his mop of hair and yawned.

“Late.”

“Shit . . .” He fumbled for his phone.

Guilt hit me like a brick. I dragged my body off the bed and padded into the bathroom, hesitated by the toilet while deciding if I was going to throw up or not, then figured if I was, I already would have, and stripped to climb into the shower. I turned the water to cold, shocking my thoughts awake.

I didn’t remember much about the previous night, thankfully, though I doubted there was much to remember.

When I came out ten minutes later, Cam was brighter eyed and fully awake, leaning against the windowsill. His smile was brighter too. He looked good in his messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed way.

Shame made my insides squirm.

“Last night should not have happened,” I told him.

He grinned. “Usually, I’m the one saying that.”

“I’m sorry.”

His grin was not making this easier.

“It was unprofessional. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I apologize.” I bowed my head.

“It’s fine.”

“It really isn’t. This is not acceptable behavior for someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” He pushed off the sill and stopped a little too close, his blue eyes bright and alert. I probably looked as though I’d spent the night on the street. “I hear you say shit like that and it doesn’t sound like you. It sounds like something someone told you.”

I swallowed and took a step back, needing space from him, and everything. The air was too hot, the room too small, and my clothes itched, despite the shower. Everything was too much. And I was probably still partially intoxicated. I hated every second of this, and just wanted to crawl inside myself and hide there.

His smile faded. “Hey . . .” He stepped forward, chasing my retreat. “It’s okay.”

“It really isn’t.” I bumped against a table and leaned into it.

“You’re not hearing me, Ren. I’m not judging you.” His smile came back and tucked into his cheek. “I’m the last person who’d do that. I get it. It’s okay to fall down, just so long as you get back up.” He half laughed. “Isn’t that a figure skater’s mantra?”

Those were good words. Camden had been through worse, much worse. His tattoos told the story, the semicolon and the story that could have ended but continued. He’d fallen and gotten right back up, every time. My mess seemed trivial and stupid in comparison.

God, why had I done this? I’d gone out instead of meeting with my father. I hadn’t wanted to see him—couldn’t see him. One drink in a random bar had turned into two, and then many more. I hadn’t been able to stop. Hadn’t wanted to.

Cam came in closer, close enough to touch, but not touching. Not yet. My slouched position meant we were eye to eye. I’d run out of words to say; the apologies weren’t enough. When I settled my gaze on him, I found him still smiling in that lopsided way he wore so well. The sun on snow had brought out his freckles over the last few days. His eyes were alert and brighter than they had any right to be after sleeping in a chair all night.

“Wanna skip class today?” he asked.