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“That doesn’t surprise me,” BJ mumbles from his supine position.
I poke him in the side. “We have class in half an hour. You need to eat or you’ll be hangry later.”
He rolls onto his side and hugs me around the waist. “I’d take a bite out of you.”
“No verbal foreplay in front of your friends.” Rose throws a pinecone at him.
He drags himself to sitting.
Lovey frowns. “You look more tired than usual.”
BJ pulls his hair tie free and his hair flops into his face. It’s longer again, past his chin, and his beard is thicker than it was in the summer. He gathers his hair and refastens it. “Adele is struggling with one of the combinations again, and we can’t afford to make changes to the routine. We need to spend more time on the ice until we get it down. A few more weeks and this competition will be done.”
“You’ve been recording some of your practices, right? Has that been helping?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s been good—my mom can see the progress and give us guidance remotely. But I had to stop telling Adele I was doing it because it was psyching her out. The stakes keep getting higher. I can handle the pressure, but it’s a lot to have a full course load and be on the ice three to four hours a day. Which you’re aware of.” BJ empties out half his backpack and starts shoveling food into his face.
I nod. “A few more weeks and then you get a break.”
We finish our lunch, and BJ and I walk to class together. After the first couple of days, he started linking pinkies with me, which helped deter all the random huggers. People still say hi to him often, but they mostly don’t throw themselves at him anymore.
“You have practice until six, right?” he asks when we reach the psych building.
“Yeah. What time are you and Adele finished?”
“Six thirty.” He rubs his thumb along my knuckles. “Maybe when I get home, we can do dinner and jump in the hot tub.”
“We could even get in some alone time when we’re not passing out on each other.”
He grins. “It’s like we share a brain.”
“Or our genitals are communicating telepathically.”
He laughs and bends to kiss me. “Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite person?”
“You have, actually.”
He goes in for another kiss, but I push his chest and step back. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“It’s a date.”
“You’ve checked your phone six times in the past fifteen minutes. What’s the deal?” Rose asks.
Quinn is sitting in the wingback chair that looks like it belonged to someone’s posh grandmother, reading a textbook. Lovey flips through notes for one of her classes, and Rose is complaining about stats.
“BJ and Adele were supposed to be off the ice at six thirty, but it’s already quarter after seven.” The arena is only a ten-minute drive. Even with a shower, he should be home by now.
Quinn looks up from his textbook. “Adele sometimes likes to book extra time on the end of their practices without telling BJ until they’re already on the ice.”
“I know she’s struggling with one of the combinations again,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s interesting how that’s been happening more often lately.” Quinn flips his pen between his fingers.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “I could be reading into things, but it seems like this year she’s having a harder time than usual getting routines down.”
“Do you think she’s purposely having a hard time?” Lovey asks.
