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“I don’t want to make Adele into a villain or anything, but it seems kind of suspect that the second BJ gets a girlfriend, Adele starts having more trouble with the routines. I mean, it’s possible she really is struggling—the pressure is certainly a factor—but it seems suspiciously coincidental.” He looks over at Lovey. “Remember how icy she was with you until she realized you and BJ weren’t actually a thing?”
Lovey taps her lips with her pen. “Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that. It was a long time ago, though.”
“Yeah, but let’s look at this logically,” Rose says. “BJ hasn’t had a girlfriend all through college.”
“We haven’t put a label on it,” I say.
All three of them give me a look.
“Label or no label, for the sake of simplicity, you’re his girlfriend—even if in the Land of Denial, you’re pretending you’re not.” Rose slaps her thighs. “As I was saying, BJ hasn’t had a regular boning partner for a long time. Now BJ’s spare time isn’t just spent with his friends, it’s spent with you. Keeping BJ on the ice is the only way Adele can get more time with him, because he’s very clear that that’s where their relationship has to stay.”
“Does she have a thing for him?” I always assumed Adele and BJ were on the same page about their skating relationship, but maybe that was naive.
“I don’t know. It’s possible?” Quinn taps the arm of his chair thoughtfully. He looks like a redheaded godfather. “Until this year, ice time has been paramount for BJ, but now that you’re in the picture, there’s competition. He’s always had a hierarchy, and skating has been at the top of that, followed by school, family, and friends. It’s shifted because of you, and that’s a good thing after what happened with Caroline. But Adele has been priority number one for a lot of years, so maybe this is her trying to maintain her position.”
“I don’t want to cause tension. I know how important this competition is to BJ.”
“It is, for sure. But she might be manipulating him, and he’s so focused on getting the routine down that he can’t see it for what it is,” Quinn replies.
“What should I do? Should I talk to him about it?”
Rose raises her hand. “I have an idea.”
“You always have ideas, not all of them are good,” Quinn notes.
“Hear me out before you shoot it down.” She crosses and uncrosses her legs. “I think you can be subtly not so subtle. It’s already after seven. He hasn’t had dinner yet. You love feeding people. Why don’t you bring him a muffin? The ones you made this afternoon, not your lady muffin,” she adds quickly, motioning to the kitchen.
The pantry is always stocked here, which makes it easy to try new recipes.
“Those were going to be my snack later,” Quinn grumbles.
“I’ll make more, don’t worry.” I look to Lovey. “What’s your opinion?”
“I think Quinn is right about Adele. She’s good at playing on BJ’s competitive side. It wouldn’t hurt to stop by the arena. I’m picking up Lacey from the humane society at eight. I could drop you off on the way,” Lovey offers.
“Okay. Let’s do it.” I stand up.
“Uh, you’re not going like that.” Rose motions to me.
I run my hand over my stomach. I’m wearing athletic shorts and one of BJ’s T-shirts. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“Nothing if you’re hanging with your friends doing homework. Just give me five minutes to accentuate your assets.”
Twenty minutes later, Lovey drops me off at the arena. BJ’s Jeep is still here. I’m dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a baby blue tank that highlights my modest cleavage. Rose tried to get me into a skirt, but the last time I willingly wore a dress was prom, and that seemed too in-your-face.
When I find their rink, they’re in the middle of their routine. The music is muffled by the door. They’re moving backwards across the ice, Adele’s back to BJ’s chest, their hands linked. He spins her out and then back. The lift follows, and Adele’s compact, narrow form arcs gracefully, BJ keeping her suspended in the air for long seconds before he lowers her and they part.
BJ moves into a spin and then they’re converging again. But Adele must miss her cue, because BJ has to stutter step to avoid a collision. His expression pinches, and he skates away, maybe trying to shake it off. His frustration is obvious before he takes a breath and adopts a neutral expression. Adele catches up to BJ and links their arms, issuing an apology.
I decide now is a good time to interrupt, so I push through the doors.
The movement catches BJ’s attention, and his furrowed brow smooths out. He unlinks their arms and skates to the gate.
“This is a nice surprise.” He leans on the sill cap and uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Sorry. I’m kinda gross.”
“I don’t mind.” I lean in for a kiss.
I mean for it to be a peck, but his hand curves around my nape and he parts his lips, stroking inside for a beat before he pulls back. “You look damn well delicious.”
