Shoulders slumping, Anton glanced around and whispered, “We didn’t hook up. I’m not into guys. Hannah and I are together now, but we’re not public because fans get so weird and nosy.”

He wasn’t wrong about that—fans could be freaky about skaters and who they dated. I nodded impatiently. “And?”

“It was when Henry still trained in Vancouver about three or four years ago. He was the way he is. You know, shy and quiet. Always so serious and particular. We had to share the locker room with a hockey team that practiced at our arena. Just a local league, nothing hardcore. They were mostly university age and more into partying than anything else. Henry couldn’t stand those guys—although there was one he was hot for.”

“How do you know?”

Anton scoffed. “People think he’s a robot, but once you can read him, he’s not. You must know that. I mean, he may not be telling you what’s really going on, but it’s pretty obvious when he’s upset or mad or hot for someone. Like, we all guessed he was into you after Skate Canada in October but never figured you’d like him back.”

“Why not?” I was indignant for Henry.

“Because you’re you. You’re fun. Everyone loves you. There’s a reason you’re in the Olympic Coke ad. Henry’s an amazing skater, but he’s…intense.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s sweet and generous and he’s actually really funny sometimes.”

Anton held up his hands. “I’m not trying to bag on him. Look, I was seventeen and a moron, and I thought the hockey players were the coolest.”

“Because you’re so wise now?”

“Compared to then? Yeah. I wasn’t taking training as seriously as I should have. I was hanging with these older guys and drinking way too much on weekends. My parents were pissed at me all the time and my dad threatened to stop coaching us. Hannah kept saying she’d find a new partner. She wouldn’t have even considered dating me then. This one time—”

“I don’t give a shit about you. Tell me about Henry.”

He made an ugh sound as he exhaled. “So, Henry clearly had a crush on Mike, one of the hockey players. He’d sneak looks at his ass when he had the chance. Mike was gay and always going on about how he could score with any dude. Even though Henry was clearly hot for him, I figured there was no way he’d actually hook up with Mike. Mike was so loud and obnoxious. A nice ass can only go so far, you know?”

“Okay.” I frowned, trying to guess where this was going.

Anton rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “I bet Mike a case of beer he couldn’t get Henry to sleep with him.”

Rage flashed so molten I thought my head might actually pop off. “What the fuck?”

“I know. I know.” He still wouldn’t look at me. “I was an asshole. But I never thought it would happen! I figured Henry would blow him off in a heartbeat. He didn’t party with anyone let alone hockey douches like Mike. It was supposed to be a joke. I forgot all about it until—” He broke off, swallowing hard.