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“Friendly, as usual, man,” Casey drawled, bumping into me and smirking at Ren. They’d met once, at the Gala in London. That night hadn’t gone great either.

“Good luck in the rhythm dance, man,” Casey said, probably to see if he could get a rise out of Ren.

“You too,” Ren said tightly, then added, “But luck won’t win gold.”

Casey laughed, shaking his head at Ren, not with him. “Whatever. Nobody remembers the rhythm dance anyway. The free dance is the showstopper.”

Casey wasn’t wrong. And Ren had no reply. He just looked through us, like he did so well to strangers.

Casey steered me back toward out little patch in the crowd. “I don’t know how you spent nine months with that asshole,” he said, too loudly.

“Yeah. No idea.” Maybe my reply had been too loud too. Ren had probably heard, but I wasn’t going to look back to check. I’d wanted to hurt him, the way he’d been hurting me for the last two days. He was an asshole to make me think we had something and then tear it away the next day.

I didn’t know why I kept falling for him, when he always put me in a corner at arm’s length after.

How did I make the feelings for him stop?

The music shifted and the announcer said it was time to light the flame.

The Olympic cauldron.

I’d imagined watching its lighting a thousand times. This was it. This was the moment it became real. Every freezing morning, every torn muscle, every impossible lift. The quad axel that had nearly taken my hip and my career. Every sacrifice had led here.

The roar inside the stadium swelled until I could feel it vibrating through my chest. Around me, team Canada erupted. Zoe grabbed my arm, grinning so hard her cheeks must have hurt. Casey was already filming everything, laughing over the noise. Athletes hugged each other. Some cried. Others waved their flags at the crowd or stood in stunned silence, trying to take it all in.

Then the cauldron ignited.

A ribbon of fire climbed into the night before blooming into a brilliant flame, washing the stadium in gold. Seventy thousand people rose to their feet as one. Phones shot into the air to capture history.

It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. Instead, all I really wanted to do was go and stand beside Ren, to share it with him.

My gaze drifted over before I could stop it. Two days ago, he’d kissed me as though we’d finally stopped running. Today, he wouldn’t even look at me. He stood apart from his team somehow, even among them. Tall and straight, dark hair catching the glow of the flame. His hands were clasped behind his back, shoulders square, gaze fixed on the cauldron with the same quiet intensity he brought to the ice. Everyone around him cheered, pointed, filmed it with their phones.

Ren barely moved.

He looked . . . beautiful. Regal, maybe. I wasn’t even sure how to describe him.

But he also looked unbearably alone.

He was close enough that I could see the firelight reflected on his face, but too far away for me to reach.

He turned his head.

Our gazes met.

His expression crumpled then righted so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined it. He snatched his stare away, as though seeing me had physically hurt.

His hand tightened on the squirrel plushie.

I faced the cauldron and wished, not for the first time, that I knew what was going on in that complicated head of us.

Would I ever figure him out? Or should I not even try?

The Winter Olympic Games were underway in Sapporo, and the vibe around the Village had changed. Athletes were in their zones and focused. The ice dancers had two days until the rhythm dance, the first of two performances. The rhythm dance was the technical program, and it determined who got through to the free dance. Only the top twenty dancers survived to go on to the free dance, where the medals were won.

There was no doubt in my mind Hasegawa and Ward would excel at the rhythm dance. His technical talent was second to none, and Ward wasn’t far behind him. Short of a random disaster, they would get through.

Zoe and I had a good chance. So did Casey and Jen. But we were also surrounded by brilliant pairs from Italy, France, and the USA.