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“How do you think this morning made me feel?” I need this, I realize—something from him that shows me he has wounds too. That even people who seem like they have everything also have scars. I think this is his.
“Fair.” He nods. “Caroline was my pairs partner during high school. She was super talented, a real natural. Skating with her felt effortless.” He scratches at his beard. “We spent a lot of time together. If we weren’t at school, we were on the ice. My mom wasn’t my coach back then. That changed when Adele became my partner.” He rubs his chin. “Caroline’s family was strict. Super strict. She was only allowed out for school-related stuff and skating. I’ve always been driven when it comes to figure skating, so the more time we spent on the ice together, the better, you know?”
“It was her only escape.” He was her only escape.
“Yeah. We were together seven days a week. We talked all the time—messaged in skating code sometimes because her parents monitored her phone. She didn’t have a lot of friends because most of her free time was spent on the ice with me, so I was basically her only outlet. We were teenagers. Pairs skating can be intimate, and hormones are a thing.” His cheek tics, but his smile is sad.
I can see where this is going. “You started dating?”
He nods. “Once I got my license, I’d pick her up after school and drive her to the arena. We’d practice for hours. She was the middle out of four kids. Her sister was a cellist, and her brothers both played soccer. They were busy all the time, and her parents trusted me. We kept it a secret, though. Her parents wouldn’t have allowed it. We lost our V cards together.” He swallows, eyes on his clasped hands. “We were great together on the ice, and we were on track to qualify for the Olympic trials. But I was a senior, and she was a junior. I started applying to colleges, because it was what you do, but it made things hard. Sometimes pairs who are involved shine on the ice. Their chemistry is palpable. But we were young, and things got complicated.”
“Complicated how?” I’m aware this story has a sad ending, the kind that’s impacted how BJ handles relationships.
“We had this huge competition, and there was so much pressure coming at us from all sides. Then her parents found out what was going on, and shit hit the fan.” He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. “It was so fucking bad. They started coming to every single practice. Driving her. Picking her up. Monitoring every interaction. Then we had the competition.” He runs his hands over his knees.
“It didn’t go well?”
He shakes his head. “My mom thought maybe we should pull out, but Caroline was adamant that we compete. Neither of us was sleeping, though. We were too stressed. It was a complex routine—a lot of intricate combinations. God, we’d rehearsed it so many times. Executed it perfectly. We should’ve been fine. But she didn’t land one of the spins and snapped the tendon in her ankle.” He runs his palm down his face. “It was devastating, Winter. On so many levels. To recover from an injury like that, to get back on the ice, it was an uphill battle. She had multiple surgeries to fix the tendon and spent a lot of time in physical therapy. Her family moved away, and we lost touch. It was just too hard. There was too much guilt and blame.” His gaze lifts, and I see it—the guilt he carries, the way it haunts him. “I wish I could go back and undo the damage, but it’s already done.”
“That’s why you keep such rigid lines with Adele,” I say softly.
He nods. “She knows what happened, and she understands why I want the boundaries we have. We set those up right from the start. I couldn’t risk something like that happening again. All it caused was pain for everyone involved.”
“How many relationships have you had since then?” I ask, puzzle pieces sliding into place, thanks to my conversation with Rose earlier today.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m assuming by relationship you mean one that’s lasted more than twenty-four to forty-eight hours?”
“Oh, man.” I huff a laugh. “Now what Rose said earlier makes sense.”
I can see it in a way I couldn’t before, how his relationship with Lovey helped keep a barrier between him and everyone else. They were never going to be a couple. She was always going to be a safe place for him, and after what happened with Caroline, it makes sense that he would guard his heart.
So many things line up now—the way BJ always tries to find the bright side, how he is with Adele, how dedicated he is to his craft, how willing he is to be my soft landing. Why we connect the way we do.
“Which was what?” he asks.
“That being close to Lovey means you don’t have to get close to anyone else.”
“That’s not…” His brow furrows, and he runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He shakes his head and murmurs, “I turned her into a shield.” He looks up at me. “How did I not see this until now?”
I shrug. “You didn’t have a reason to see it.”
“Fuck. I’m such an asshole.”
“That’s not true, BJ. I doubt it was conscious for either of you. You’ve been best friends your whole life—you lean on each other. It must have been hard to see you go through that. She would have wanted to protect you.”
“Like the way you protected your mom from your dad,” BJ whispers.
“Don’t draw that kind of parallel, BJ. You’re not an abuser.”
“But I used my best friend as an emotional shield.”
I squeeze his hand. “Everyone takes on roles, BJ. Some are good and some aren’t. The important part is, now that you see it for what it is, you can do something to change it.”
“I wish I would have realized this sooner. Then we could have avoided this shitty situation,” he says.
“We all make mistakes. We learn from them and move on.”
“Are we okay?”
