Something in the way he said my name made me wish he hadn’t.
“We’ve both been doing this long enough to know when something’s off.”
“I am skating perfectly well.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Heat crawled my neck. I looked out across the rink rather than at him.
A pairs team passed through the opposite corner. Someone’s music cut off abruptly. The familiar sounds should have grounded me.
When Dean spoke again, his voice had lost most of its usual lightness.
“I keep thinking about what you said.”
My stomach tightened. I knew exactly which words he meant.
I do not know what I would be allowed to like.
I looked back at him, and the question escaped before I could reconsider it.
“Why?”
Dean looked almost as surprised by it as I was.
“I don’t know.” His gaze drifted across the ice before returning to me. “Maybe because nobody should sound that resigned at twenty-four.” He leaned against the boards and looked out across the ice. “I tried to let it go.” The words sounded more like an observation than a confession. “I didn’t.”
My pulse kicked hard.
“You are assigning too much importance to it.”
“Maybe.” His expression remained infuriatingly calm. “Or maybe you’re acting like it’s normal when it isn’t.”
A skater crossed between us and the far end of the rink before disappearing again.
Neither of us moved.
Finally Dean glanced toward me.
“If you want me to leave it alone, say so.”
My breath caught. The words sat there waiting.
Leave it alone.
Walk away.
Stop.
Any one of them would have been enough.
I stood there saying nothing.
Dean watched me for another second. Then?—
“Luka.”
Mila’s voice cut sharply across the rink.
