My eyes met Anton Orlov’s, and I tasted bile. My ears buzzed, and though Etienne and Sam were saying something to me, I had to escape. Hannah called to me, and I ducked into the closest bathroom, breathing hard. Sweat prickled my brow. Mercifully, Etienne and Sam didn’t follow.

It was inevitable that I’d encounter Anton at events. He and Hannah were vying for the silver at Nationals behind the top pairs team, who were world medalists.

We’d surely be on the Olympic team together, and I’d have to smile for pictures and be in the same room with him. On the same flights, the same buses.

It had been years now—three-point-seven to be exact—and I should have been able to move past it. But just seeing Anton hurtled me back, humiliation and hurt tying my stomach into knots. I hated—loathed, despised, detested, abhorred—my weakness.

Strangely, I thought of Theodore and what he’d do in my shoes. He’d probably have shrugged off the whole experience and moved on to the next hookup or relationship or party. With that smile firmly in place.

I waited thirteen minutes in a stall, and when I slipped out, Anton and the others were gone. I’d see them at the event banquet that night, but I’d be sure to keep as much distance as I could.

Hours later, I’d escaped the banquet after making my obligatory appearance. It was a damp, drizzly night, which was the norm for Vancouver.

After putting on sweats and lacing up my shoes, I slipped out of the hotel and ran to the seawall and along the path there, replaying my free skate and itemizing the mistakes I’d made.

It was late by the time I crossed a park, the trail muddy. My feet skidded coming down a slope, and an image of Theodore sprawled in the mud—laughing as usual—filled my mind. Those gleaming teeth and almost-dimples in his cheeks. How red his lips looked when they were rain-wet…

Increasing my strides, I forced my thoughts from the memory of his body beneath me and the warm brush of his breath on my face.

In the hotel lobby, I sped to the elevators with my head down and hood raised. The banquet had surely ended by now, but plenty of people would have spilled out into the bar. I kept my eyes on my mud-flecked shoes until I stepped off on my floor, relieved at the hush that greeted me.

A hush demolished by Theodore calling out, “There you are!” and flashing one of his smiles.

He loitered by my room, so I had no choice but to approach. Leaning one shoulder against the wall, blue dress shirt hugging his lean torso and suit jacket slung over his shoulder, he asked, “Can you do me a favor?”

No. “What?”

“I lost my card.” He seemed to read my mind. “And my phone’s dead. Can you call reception for me? My room’s just down the hall.”