“Mmm.” She pinned me with her assessing gaze, and I automatically sat up straighter and thought about the walnut between my shoulder blades. “As of today.”

“Uh-huh. We made an agreement. A plan. We need to focus on the competition. You know we’re both doing the short program in the team event later this week. It’s time to concentrate a hundred percent on skating.”

“And you think you’ll be able to just—” She made a flicking motion with her finger. “Turn off your feelings? Like nothing?”

“We made a plan,” I repeated.

Sure, the five hours and nineteen minutes since we’d last kissed felt like an eternity, but this was the plan. We’d had to get up in the middle of the night to get to the airport, so we’d barely slept.

There’d been kissing and having sex and then more kissing and more sex and cuddling with Esmeralda and dozing and then having sex one last time.

For now. One last time for now. Because the thought of that actually being the last time was unbearable.

Manon narrowed her gaze. “And you think it’ll be so easy for Henry? Maybe you don’t care, but Henry’s different.”

It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. I shrugged and smiled since that’s what everyone expected. Actually? Screw that. I dropped the fake expression and whispered, “I care too. I do.”

Her face softened, and she briefly squeezed my hand. “I know. I just worry.”

“We’re fine. We’re great! We’re focusing on doing our jobs. And then…” What? That was the question. “One thing at a time.”

“All right. We expect your best. You’ve both worked too hard to throw away your shot for a fling.”

I wanted to argue it was more than a fling, but… Was it? “Well, now that song’s going to be stuck in my head.”

“Bon.” Apparently satisfied, Manon returned to her magazine, and I pointedly did not watch Henry sleep. For a few minutes. He was beautiful, and this would be my last chance for a few weeks. And even though my ass twinged from riding him hard this morning, I imagined one more time.

Could I pass him a note and tell him to meet me in the bathroom? But surely someone would see us, and as fun as the mile-high club thing seemed on paper, airplane bathrooms were gross.

But once we got to the Athletes’ Village, we would really officially be at the Olympics, and we’d be breaking our own rules.

Did I really give a shit? Yes and no. But Henry loved rules. I didn’t want to tempt him and have him regret it. I never wanted him to regret anything we did together.

He’d gotten more comfortable and said he was into topping, which really worked for me. Most guys assumed I was a top since I was outgoing and loud and did my whole sexy, powerful routine on the ice.

And sure, I’d love to top Henry if he wanted it, but he clearly didn’t at this point, so I hadn’t pushed for it. I was happy doing anything, but with him, I could really relax and trust that he’d fuck me as hard as I wanted without going too far.