Ingrid stood too, looping her scarf around her neck. She glanced at Keisha. “Do you want to meet for a coffee later? Somewhere that isn’t here?”
Keisha brightened, and Noah pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re abandoning us? You wound me.”
Keisha rolled her eyes. “You’ll survive.” She gave Ingrid a beaming smile. “I’ll walk out with you.”
The teasing followed them halfway across the cafeteria, Ethan loudly demanding updates while Noah yelled something about Norwegian seduction techniques.
Then suddenly it was just the US skaters left at the table.
The second the others disappeared from earshot, Nathan looked at me. “Okay. Spill.”
I frowned. “About what?”
Nathan stared at me. “Dean.”
“What?”
“I’ve been doing the math.”
A horrible suspicion grew, and I glanced at Ethan, who shook his head vehemently.
Okay, whatever this was had nothing to do with him.
“And two plus two is refusing to equal four here,” Nathan continued. “First you turn down an actual Olympic skier who looked like she walked off a perfume commercial?—”
“She was nice, but—” I protested weakly.
“—and then,” Nathan pressed on, relentless, “you were holding hands with Luka Davorin under the table.”
Every thought in my head came to a shuddering halt.
I gaped at him.
Nathan pointed triumphantly. “Yep, that look right there. That face confirms everything.”
“What?” I sputtered. “How did you even?—”
“I dropped my phone.” He smirked.
Silence.
Then Ethan lost it completely, folding over laughing. “You got exposed… by gravity?”
I stared at all of them in horror.
Noah appeared delighted. “Wait. WAIT. You and Davorin?”
“Apparently.” Nathan sounded so fuckingsmug.
I rubbed both hands over my face. “Jesus Christ.”
The panic arrived a second later, and none of it was because they knew.
Luka. Velkarya. And if this gets out…
My expression must have changed, because Noah’s grin vanished immediately.
“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Dean.”
