Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Luka
It was far too late to still be awake.
The gala was the following day, and I was trying very hard not to think about that. It wasn’t that we weren’t ready for it.
What occupied my thoughts was everything that came after it.
We lay on Dean’s bed, half-watching some dreadful late-night Italian game show on his phone, the volume low, Dean’s hand stroking languidly up and down my back.
Then he cleared his throat.
“If things get bad,” he said, eyes still on the screen, “I could come to Velkarya for a while.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
Dean’s hand stopped moving, and he turned his head. “Is that a no?”
“Actually, it’s an absolutely not.”
He blinked.
I was already sitting up, my heart hammering. The image arrived before reason could stop it.
Dean standing beside me in Velkarya. Dean smiling at the wrong person.
Dean attracting attention simply by existing.
My stomach dropped.
“Luka.”
“No.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s a refusal.”
“Correct.” I shivered.
Dean stared at me. “What exactly do you think I’m suggesting?”
“I don’t care.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake.
Dean pressed his lips together, his face tightening. “You don’t care.”
I shoved the blankets aside and got out of bed, walking over to the window.
Behind me, the sound of the game show disappeared.
“I would call that an overreaction.”
“To what?”
“To travel plans.”
I faced him, blinking. “Travel plans?”
“Yes.”
I laughed, even though this whole conversation wasn’t remotely funny.
“You think that’s what we’re discussing?”
Dean set his jaw. “No, I think you’re doing that thing where you decide we’re discussing something else and refuse to tell me what it is.”
I looked through the window. Outside, headlights moved through the street below.
Tomorrow.
The gala was tomorrow.
Helen Brooks had sat across from me four days ago. I still hadn’t come to a decision.
And Dean was waiting for me to explain.
I took a deep breath, then faced him once more. “You wouldn’t like it there.”
“Why not?”
I folded my arms. “Because you wouldn’t.”
Dean continued to stare at me. Then he barked out a laugh, short and reeking of disbelief. “Wow.”
My heart pounded, and my breathing sounded too loud.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I don’t think I am.” He tilted his head. “You realize you’re making my point for me.”
“What point?”
“I’m trying to talk about something real, and you’re arguing about geography.”
I looked away, unable to ignore the quivering in my belly.
“There,” Dean remarked.
“What?”
His voice sharpened. “You keep doing that. You decide I won’t understand and end the conversation before I’ve said anything.”
My patience frayed. “Not everything is about understanding.”
“No? Then help me out here, Luka.”
I rubbed a hand across my face. Why won’t he let go? Most people stopped asking after the first refusal.
Dean never seemed to notice he’d been refused.
I made an effort to breathe normally. “People pay attention to who I’m with.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
The response caught me off guard. “Okay?”
He sighed heavily. “People pay attention. You’re an Olympic silver medalist. You’re going to have to narrow that down for me.” He paused. “Look, we’ve had this conversation.”
“Not enough times, obviously,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I know the federation watches you.”
“Not just me. Everyone around me.”
Behind me, the mattress creaked.
“And if I came?” He stood beside me.
I didn’t answer, didn’t meet his gaze.
“Oh.”
I gripped the edge of the windowsill. “Dean—”
“No.”
I jerked my head toward him, blinking.
His face was so grave. “You don’t get to give me half an answer and expect me to fill in the rest.”
“That isn’t fair,” I retorted.
“Neither is this conversation.” He swallowed hard. “You know what actually bothers me?”
I said nothing.
“When I said I’d come with you, you never even considered it.”
I opened my mouth.
Dean didn’t stop. “You didn’t ask if I was serious.”
Kvrat.
“You didn’t ask how long.” He took a step toward me. “You didn’t ask why.” He kept looking at me, waiting for an answer I didn’t have.
I’d said no.
Dean’s gaze narrowed. “What?”
Another swallow. “Nothing.”
“Luka.” His jaw tightened. “Stop shutting me out.”
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “I am trying to protect you.”
The second I said it, I wished I hadn’t.
Dean didn’t say anything. For a few seconds he just looked at me. Then he laughed, a short, unhappy sound.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
I looked away, my heartbeat racing, my stomach rock hard.
“Luka.” His voice was quieter now. “Look at me.”
I kept staring out the window.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, I turned back. Hazel eyes looked into mine.
“I get to decide what risks I’m willing to take.”
I swallowed past the rock in my throat. “You don’t understand—”
Dean swore, and I blinked.
“I understand more than you think,” he said in a low voice. I shook my head, and he placed his hands on my shoulders. “Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Because there was no answer that didn’t sound ridiculous.
Helen had offered me a future and I still hadn’t decided whether I was brave enough to seize the opportunity.
Tomorrow I was stepping onto Olympic ice with a plan that could change everything.
And now Dean was standing in front of me, and I didn’t know how to fit him into any version of what came next.
My heart quaked. “You were never supposed to matter this much.”
The room went silent.
The confession hung in the air.
For a second I couldn’t believe I’d said it aloud.
When I finally looked up, Dean was standing exactly where he’d been.
“You’re not the only one that happened to.” He scraped his fingers through his hair. “I’m tired, Luka. Tired of watching you carry everything alone because you’ve convinced yourself that’s noble.”
I looked away again, and he cursed under his breath. “You see?”
And then his warmth surrounded me, his hand closing around mine.
“I love you.”
I looked down at our joined hands, then at my own reflection in the glass.
Dean hadn’t moved.
He was still waiting.
And I had no idea what to say.
Neither of us spoke for a while, not even when the snow began again, blurring the glass.
Eventually Dean squeezed my hand.
“You know what I’m about to say, don’t you? Because I’ve said it enough times since we got together.”
I let out a tired laugh. “Let me guess. I don’t have to decide anything tonight?”
He smiled, and I knew I’d nailed it.
“It still feels as though I do,” I argued.
“Yeah.” He brushed his thumb across my knuckles. “But you don’t.”
I locked gazes with him. “What if nothing is any clearer tomorrow?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Then it isn’t.”
The answer came so easily, as though uncertainty wasn’t something that frightened him.
“Tomorrow’s for skating,” he said, stroking my nape. “You can save the existential crisis for after.”
Despite everything, I smiled. “That sounds like a generous offer.”
“I know.” He returned my smile. “Besides, there’s a decent chance everything looks different after tomorrow anyway.”
Is he talking about the gala, or about us?
Helen’s business card sat on Dean’s desk, a possible future.
I leaned my forehead against his shoulder and watched the snow.