Chapter 2 #2
Somehow, he’d turned a communal shower into a crisis.
I turned toward the wall after that and finished showering as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself.
This would have been easier if attraction had been the only problem.
Attraction I knew how to survive.
I was becoming less certain about Dean Foster.
By the time I stepped back into the colder air outside the showers, my breathing had steadied again.
Mostly.
Then I saw Dean fully dressed near the lockers and discovered that clothing solved none of the problem.
The locker room felt quieter after the showers, though conversations still echoed between benches while bags slammed shut and lockers opened and closed around us.
I focused on routine instead. Towel. Clothes. Laces. Bag. My hands stayed precise even when my thoughts didn’t.
Don’t look at him again.
The instruction lasted maybe thirty seconds.
I pulled my shirt down into place and looked up directly into Dean’s gaze.
Closer now, still watching me.
The breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat.
“Hey.”
I forced myself to maintain eye contact. “Hey.” My voice sounded steady, a small victory.
“You’re Luka Davorin, right?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so.” A quick smile touched his mouth. “You skate pairs for Velkarya.”
I nodded. That flare of panic again.
“I saw you at Worlds last year,” he continued. “Your lifts are solid.”
The compliment caught me off guard because it sounded genuine rather than performative, as though he wasn’t saying it simply to be polite.
“We train hard for them,” I said, my tone as measured as I could get it.
“Yeah.” His eyes stayed on mine. “It shows.”
Silence settled between us.
Dean didn’t seem bothered by it. Most people rushed to fill quiet.
He simply waited.
The longer it lasted, the more aware I became of him standing there.
Kvrat. Why isn’t he leaving?
Not because I wanted him to. Quite the opposite.
Every second he remained in front of me seemed to make it harder to remember how conversations were supposed to work.
“You heading back to the Village?” he asked at last.
“Yes.” The answer came too quickly. I steadied my voice. “We train again later.”
“That makes two of us.”
I should have left right then.
I reached for my bag at the exact moment Dean adjusted sideways near the bench, forcing me to pass closer than I intended. My shoulder brushed his as I moved by.
The contact lasted less than a second. Every muscle in my body seemed to notice.
I came to a halt. Dean did too.
“Are you all right?”
The question carried only straightforward concern, spoken quietly enough that nobody else paid attention.
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
A complete lie.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door before my body found another way to embarrass me.
Behind me, conversation carried on as normal. Laughter. Lockers slamming shut. Somebody arguing about breakfast.
By the time I stepped into the corridor, my pulse still hadn’t settled.
I pressed a hand against the back of my neck and closed my eyes for a moment.
This is exactly how problems start. With a glance, a smile. A moment I should have forgotten already.
I hadn’t forgotten a second of it.
Dean
I watched Luka disappear through the locker room doors. Then I stood there for a second wondering why I cared.
“Wow.”
I didn’t bother turning around. Ethan’s voice already carried too much satisfaction.
“No.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You were about to.”
“That is profiling, Dean.”
I grabbed my jacket off the bench. “It’s pattern recognition.”
Ethan followed me because privacy apparently no longer existed once he sensed entertainment.
“Counterpoint,” he said.
“I already hate this conversation.”
“You looked like your brain disconnected mid-sentence.”
I jammed my arms into my jacket. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Yes. But not by much.” The grin spreading across his face made violence briefly tempting.
I started stuffing my gear into my bag while Ethan watched with open delight.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m begging you to develop a personality outside of harassing me.”
“You are my enrichment activity.”
“That’s genuinely disturbing.”
“Still not the worst thing I’ve said this month.”
I zipped the bag shut. The bench rattled.
Ethan’s eyebrows climbed. “Wow. Aggressive zippering. Not to mention emotion.”
“There is no emotion. You’re seeing things.”
“Then why do you look like you’re preparing to flee the country under an assumed identity?”
I pointed at him. “You are exhausting.”
“And yet people love me,” he said with a beaming smile.
He always said that like it proved anything.
“Well, there’s clearly no accounting for taste,” I muttered, slinging the bag over my shoulder.
Ethan clutched at his chest. “Cruel.”
We headed toward the exit, and for one glorious moment I thought the conversation might finally die.
Then Ethan said casually, “He wasn’t subtle, by the way.”
“Who?”
“Luka.”
“You’re imagining things.” The denial came out a little too fast.
“Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “But if I caught it from twenty feet away, I’d hate to see what it looked like up close.”
I studied him for a second. “You think you saw something.”
Ethan shrugged. “The guy practically stopped breathing when you talked to him.”
I barked out a laugh, mostly because the alternative was taking Ethan seriously.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Yet the image of Luka standing frozen beside the bench chose that exact moment to return.
“Okay.”
“Stop saying okay like that.” I pushed through the doors into the cold evening air.
“Sure.”
Which obviously meant absolutely not.
We walked half a block in silence before Ethan stretched both arms overhead and announced, “I’ve made a strategic decision.”
Thank God. We were apparently done talking about Luka Davorin.
“That sentence has never improved my life.”
“I’m going back to the Village and taking an irresponsible amount of condoms.”
I barked out a laugh. “Taking?”
“They’re free. At this point it’s diplomacy.” Ethan shook his head in amazement. “The Olympic Committee looked at several thousand elite athletes in peak physical condition and said, you know what this situation needs? Unlimited contraceptives.”
“That feels medically responsible, actually.”
“It feels optimistic.” He grinned. “It also reads like unlimited access to bad decisions. The Games are now a globally sponsored hookup festival with occasional sports.”
I laughed again while we crossed the street. “How many have you taken already?”
“From the lobby alone? Enough to concern several governments.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Nathan thinks they’ll run out by next week,” Ethan continued.
“And you?”
“I’m giving it until tomorrow.”
“That estimate says worrying things about you.”
“You should see the snowboarders. Absolute chaos.” Ethan fanned himself. “Also hot enough to destroy civilization.”
“Thoughts and prayers.”
“There’s one speed skater. Oh my God, Dean—this man smiled at me and I nearly forgot my own name.”
“Devastating.”
“Hey, you’re a straight dude. You don’t understand the nuance. There are levels to this.”
I snorted.
Ethan glanced sideways at me. “Speaking of emotionally compromised athletes, there are also a lot of gorgeous women here.”
I gave him a blank stare. “Nobody believes you when you pretend to be interested in women.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was talking about you.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“You’re right. I physically couldn’t commit to the bit.”
I laughed while Ethan bumped my shoulder.