A flare of desire twisted through me as I remembered waking him several hours ago in the darkness with sleepy kisses that quickly progressed to sucking him until he was shooting in my mouth and wide awake.

It was still surreal, to say the least. I’d never had a relationship. I’d never woken with another person in my arms or drooling on my chest or spooned behind me, warm and sometimes trapping my arm under us until I had pins and needles.

That it was Theodore Sullivan in my bed was almost beyond comprehension. My family hadn’t pressed for details—aside from Sam, who teased me daily—but it was clear to them Theo and I were more than training mates and competitors. That we were…

What, exactly? The Olympics were in weeks. We were keeping the elephants sequestered, and there was no room for discussing labels or the future. We’d agreed to indulge in whatever this was until we left for Calgary. Then we would compete against each other.

After that, the world might as well have been flat and ended in a sheer drop. Right now, there was nothing but the time we had left and the Games. I couldn’t allow myself to ponder any other future beyond.

Theo was still on the phone with his mother when the crew asked me to work on my jumps. As the cameras rolled, we took our positions, a crew member holding a boom mic over Bill and Manon where they stood by the side of the ice.

I gathered speed and performed my quad toe combo cleanly, returning to them so they could critique before I jumped again. We went on until Theo joined us, the cameraman focusing on him now.

He raced down the ice and reeled off a perfect quad Lutz—then turned and tacked on a triple Axel out of nowhere.

Everyone in the arena gasped and applauded. Even if the attention wasn’t on me anymore, I focused in on my quad Lutz, though I was only able to add a double toe on the end. My consistency had improved greatly, though.

As I sped into my next attempt, I considered trying the triple Axel on the end like Theo had managed. It was very rarely done, and I’d be foolish to risk injuring myself. But I’d land a perfect quad Lutz-triple toe if it killed me.

Again and again, I jumped. Theo noticed, and he said, laughing, “Are we doing a jump off?”

I gave him a curt nod. He rarely missed any, and when he did, he laughed again. Even with the network cameras on him, he was filled with confidence, shaking off mistakes before nailing the jump a minute later.

On my next Lutz attempt, I slipped off the toe pick and fell out of the jump awkwardly, crashing onto my hip and sliding on my back. Before I could even push myself up, Theo was at my side.

“Shit, that was hard. You okay?” He reached for my shoulder.