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Of course, I couldn’t make the decision to leave her mom and sister behind for her. But she was her own person. And not responsible for her family. That was easier said than done, though.

“Okay.” She already sounded like the Sway I knew again. Assertive, goal-oriented, and energetic. “Then I’ll send you my letter. It would be great if you could check it.”

“I will! I’ll send it back to you as soon as possible.”

After we finished our conversation, I let my eyes roam around. Same cabin. Same nervousness. Same thoughts.

Sighing, I scanned my notes and tapped my pen against the pad.

The cabin door opened, letting in a rush of cold air. I sat up straighter and furrowed my brow.

As always in the last two days, I immediately glanced behind Shane, worried that he wasn’t alone.

But like every other day, he was the only one in our room. Him, his cheeks red from the winter air, and that breath of freshness and energy that always surrounded Shane.

I wanted to sigh long and hard. To put my opinion about this situation and my . . . desire for him into that sound. I refrained from doing anything and stared at him.

Shane came in but paid me no attention. But when our eyes met, he paused.

“Hey. What’s up? Have you seen a ghost.”

Shaking my head, I closed my notebook and gathered my things. “No ghost. I’m trying to prepare myself.”

Shane hung up his jacket and peeled off his clothes. Damn it. How was I supposed to stay focused when he did these kinds of things? Undressing. Great. As if I hadn’t seen him naked before. Luckily. Or unfortunately.

“What are you preparing for?” Shane asked, sitting down on his bed facing me.

I tapped my lip with my pen. Shane’s gaze fell on it, and I froze. “Celebrity chef. Tomorrow at our place.”

Shane lifted his head and looked me straight in the eyes again. “Mhm. What else?”

“I get to help cook. And I’m in charge of a station. And . . . ”

“And . . . ?” Shane rested his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. “That’s great, isn’t it?” His eyes widened.

A smile spread across my lips. “Yes, it’s great. It’s just that I’m not focused. And that sucks. Because I can’t only be in good shape, I have to be outstanding.”

Shane nodded in my direction. “But you are.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha. By tomorrow, I have to raise my concentration to a level it hasn’t reached since my final exams.”

Shane stood, laughing. “Come on. You’re not a student anymore. What else do you do when you need to sharpen your focus?”

“I don’t usually have that problem,” I muttered to myself.

Shane walked around the apartment in his socks. “Hmm. When I need to concentrate, I first get rid of all distractions.”

“I see,” I said, dripping with sarcasm.

“You know what?” Shane beamed at me. “I’ll help you. What do we need to get rid of to get you on track?”

“Uh . . . ” You?

“Whatever helps me is nature. Before a competition or when I need to clear my head, I go for a walk along the beach or in the woods.”

I shook my head. “Nah. I can find my way from here to the main house. I wouldn’t even know where to go.” You could disappear, and I might have a chance to regain my composure.

But instead of vanishing into thin air, Shane stepped toward me. “When does it start tomorrow?”