Page 97 of Ice Dance

“In your dreams, Navarro. But seriously . . .” Casey leaned an elbow on the table, nodded at the others, then at me. “There’s an opening on the team, if you want to try for it?”

“What?”

He grinned. “For the Olympic team, dumbass.”

I almost laughed them off. Another joke at my expense. But nobody was laughing.

“We’re serious,” Jen said. “We can put your name forward.”

“Damn, guys. Shit yeah.” I wasn’t going to think too hard about this. Of course it was a yes. “Yes.”

“Good.” Casey slapped my shoulder. “And you can get out of his shadow, huh? Prove you don’t need him.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, not sure if it sounded convincing. “Right.”

I glanced behind me, but Hasegawa had left the table a few minutes ago with an older Japanese man.

“Is it true?” Jen asked.

Here it came. Some online gossip the press had been whipping into a storm. I picked up my wine.

“You and he are . . . not just dance partners?” she said.

Holy shit. I laughed and put my wine down without drinking, hating how my heart galloped. “C’mon, Jen. You know me better than that.”

“It’s because we know you.” Casey laughed. “Everyone else would have left him by now. So there has to be a little something extra, right? Rumors are he’s gay. Kinda explains a lot, if you ask me.”

“Nobody fucking asked you, Casey.” It was out there before I could bite it back. The pain in my leg, the alcohol and a deep throbbing in my head, the remarks, the hot fucking suit, and that damn woman’s comments about letting the trash in. I was on the edge of being done with this entire event, and now Casey decided to out Ren as gay in front of the whole Canadian team?

“Easy.” Casey raised his hands and the others laughed. “No need to get defensive, man.”

“Well, don’t shit-talk him in front of me, or behind my back. He’s a goddamn professional. Why do you have to be such a dick? Think what you want about me, but he’s got to where he is by being a fucking good skater. Better than you, which is probably why you’re dead set on tearing him down, or is it because I wouldn’t fuck Jen? Huh? You two are close, are you fucking?”

The entire table fell silent. And a few tables close by too.

Holy shit, I had just said all that out loud.

If this was uploaded to social media, I was going to take out another goddamn loan and sue somebody. I tossed the stupid, enormous napkin, and stood too fast, catching my hip, knocking the table. A wine glass fell over. I swore, raising a few perfect eyebrows, and resisted the urge to snarl at everyone.

Where the fuck was Hasegawa?

I needed to leave before this got worse, and I did something I couldn’t come back from.

I stumbled through some fancy doors, onto a terrace, and found Hasegawa standing beside a man who looked just like him but a whole lot older.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” I marched up to Ren and touched his arm, maybe for support, I didn’t know.

He snapped away, and those emotive eyes of his got all angry and expressive, like I was toxic and just by being close I’d infected him.

I pulled my hand back. “You know what? Screw you.”

Hasegawa’s face fell, like I’d hit him or something just as dramatic. I slowed my thoughts, tried to think through the pain and embarrassment, and looked again at the man beside him. Same haughty high brow, same peering down his nose angle, same fucking soulful eyes.

“Camden, this is Goro Hasegawa, my father.”

And . . . I was probably about to throw up. This was the man who had slammed the door on Ren because he was gay, and now he was back, likely because Ren was in the spotlight. Ex-Olympian. He’d come crawling back to get a slice of Ren’s success for himself. Ren had snatched his hand away from me just now because of him. Because he was ashamed. Of me.

I was so goddamn furious for Ren, so tired, and hurting, and I couldn’t say anything in his defense. So I stood there and shook. Then I turned on my heel, left the terrace, and hunted for a bathroom, real fast.