My hand moved down to the front of his jeans to find him straining there.
Ben made a deep, rumbly noise as I pushed against him and rubbed. He inhaled sharply, like my touch through thick denim was enough to leave him unmoored.
I was blinded by how intensely I needed him. I fumbled with the zipper on his pants and pushed it down, forcing my hand between the layers of fabric to grip him. He went concave as my hand circled his hardness, and then dropped his forehead to my shoulder.
“Quinn,” he rasped.
We moved together, hindered by our clothing and the cold that prevented us from stripping. If we’d been in this spot during the heat of summer I had no doubt that I’d be naked beneath him, sweaty and happy. For now we had to settle for the stolen bits of skin we dared to expose.
I still felt feverish with need for him despite the barriers between us. I yanked his zipper down and started lowering myself to my knees.
Then we heard something echoing in the distance. I paused, hovering in a half squat in front of him.
“Fuck,” Ben grumbled through gritted teeth. “The fucking bell.”
I stood up slowly and listened. Sure enough, I heard the sound of a handbell bouncing off the hills.
“What does it mean?” I whispered. “Is there a problem?”
“It’s how they signal the workers in the field to come in. She’strying to tell us we need to come back, probably for port and torcetti before we leave.”
The bell continued calling us home.
“Will she keep on...”
He nodded, frowning at the timing. “Yeah. We should go. Otherwise she’ll start making jokes about leaving the hay outside the barn.”
I tipped my head, questioning the translation.
He snorted softly. “She told me that was how girls avoided getting pregnant back in the day. The men ‘left their hay outside the barn.’”
It took a little bit to figure out what she meant.
“Oh my god,” I giggled when it dawned on me. “She told you that?”
“Oh yes. Zia has no filter.” Ben adjusted himself and sighed. “It’s probably for the best. We’re supposed to be avoiding this.”
I snuggled up against him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Then we probably shouldn’t be alone together, because I can’t resist touching you.”
My heart fumbled at the idea of not having another chance to be this close to him.
He kissed the top of my head. “Deal. We’ll make sure we have a chaperone. And I’m going to get even busier next week, once everything starts. The only time I’ll get to see you is our final interview, postcompetition.”
“Hold on. You’re not covering the press conference we’re doing tomorrow?”
He frowned at me. “They haven’t mentioned a word about that. Weird.”
The bell started clanging again.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said unconvincingly as we set off for the house.
It was fine that we’d be forced apart. Better, in fact. We’d both navigate the insane pressures ahead of us, and then once we were on the other side, we could figure out what the hell we were to each other.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The six members of the Team USA singles skaters were gathered with our coaches standing just beyond the big two-level step and repeat area for the press conference in the media center. There was Mel, along with Kayla and Erica and their coaches, as well as the three men’s singles skaters, Sam, Declan, and Jae, along with their coaches. I could tell it was going to be a clusterfuck since it was the first presser with all of us gathered. The room was packed and buzzing with noise. I peeked out to see if Ben was in the crowd of reporters but couldn’t find him in the sea of faces.
“Okay, are we ready to go?” a smiley woman in a blazer and headset asked us, pushing her hands through the air like she was trying to sweep us toward the stage. She’d introduced herself to us but I’d already forgotten who she was. “It’s time, let’s get settled in our chairs. Ladies, the three of you are on the first level, and gentlemen, you’re behind them.”
