I was weirdly pleased that he’d told me. “Yeah, I hear you. I’m not seeing anyone either.” I wanted to pat his arm or something, but he might freak out again. “I really didn’t hear any rumors about you. I swear.”

The song was still playing, and it filled the silence as he stopped for a red light. I jiggled my foot, more questions burning on my tongue. Now that I thought about it, hadn’t he gotten a boner looking at me in the shower when we were still juniors? I vaguely recalled him avoiding me like the plague afterward even though it happened to the best of us.

I couldn’t hold it in. “So, you just hook up? Definitely hard to find time for an actual relationship with training. Which app’s the best around here? I need to get laid.”

He stared straight ahead, knuckles pale on the steering wheel again, cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh, come on! We all have needs. Or are you ace? Not that ace people don’t have needs. But maybe you’re not into sex with other people, which is totally cool, obviously.”

“Please stop talking.”

“It’s not like I asked you about your fave rimming technique. Seriously, it’s okay if you’re not into sex. My sister Veronica identifies as gray ace.”

“I’m not asexual. Stop.” He turned up the music.

Honestly, it was adorable. So easily scandalized! Okay, so he wasn’t ace. But for someone always so cool and in control, his reaction fascinated me. Was he super repressed in bed? Did he even make noise?

Was he a virgin?

As we headed into the arena, I imagined him being blown. Did he moan, or was that not allowed? He walked ahead of me, and I watched his firm ass in his tight black pants. If I licked him open, could I get him to let go and be loud?

My balls tingled, and I shook away the stupid thoughts. I really did need to get laid if I was imagining fucking Henry of all people. He was no fun, and I liked fucking fun people. And it was none of my business what he did or didn’t do and who he did or didn’t do things with.

I seriously appreciated the ride though and said, “Thanks again!”

His Canadian politeness had apparently been short-circuited, and he ignored me. He continued ignoring me during our sessions, doing run-through after run-through after jump drills. I tried to focus on my quads and stop thinking about licking Henry’s ass until he screamed. That would get a smile out of him.

I took my time changing out of my skates at the end of the day and chatted with Ga-young and her dad, in no rush to return to my empty condo. My Lyft was still fifteen minutes away when I left the rink.

In the lot, headlights flared to life, and a car approached in the early November darkness. It was only when it pulled up to the curb that I realized it was the red Civic. That it was Henry.