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I hadn’t been listening since I’d arrived at his immaculate hotel room.

My phone sat like a brick in my pocket.

Yes, I’ll have breakfast with you. I wanted to type that and send it to Cam. I’d wanted to say yes when he’d asked, but then the shuttle had arrived, and I was already late for the meeting with my father . . . and the location of his offer, the cafeteria, was loud and bright and always full of people, which would probably make it alright to sit with Camden. Two athletes having breakfast. It didn’t have to mean anything.

But I wanted it to.

And that’s why I’d stumbled.

I’d wanted to go out with him.

But I wasn’t allowed to want Camden Navarro. And I couldn’t sit and have breakfast with him and pretend we were just athletes on opposing teams, that I hadn’t shared my body with him in intimate ways. I didn’t want to pretend.

I was tired of pretending.

So damn tired . . .

“Are you with me?” my father snapped.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening, no.” I shifted in the seat and looked down at the many sketches, then up at my father’s hard eyes. He’d gotten me here, he’d come out of retirement to help me, he’d probably had a lot to do with my selection, and I couldn’t be bothered to listen to his advice. I was a terrible son.

He huffed and sat back. His gaze went to the large landscape window and the views over the city. His hair held an immaculate sweep back from his forehead, sharpening all the angles of his face. Age had softened his appearance, but not his personality.

“It’s normal,” he said. “You’re under a lot of pressure. Perhaps I’ve been too hard on you.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not you. I just . . . jet lag.”

“You should be over that by now.” He sighed again, his disappointment clear.

I swallowed and looked down at my notes. “Of course.”

“I was speaking with Kenji Sato last week,” he said, tone lightening. “You remember him?”

“Vaguely.” I scribbled a flower in the margins. Just a little daisy. A tiny but pretty thing.

“You met several times when you were younger. His daughter, Emi, is in Sapporo for the Games. She works in sports medicine. Very accomplished. Sensible.”

I knew where this was going. I dropped my pen and sent my gaze toward the windows.

Father continued as though I hadn’t looked away. “She is unmarried. Kenji says she’s had no time for relationships because of her career. You would have that in common.”

“Would we?” I said, while a cold, empty hollowness ate me from the inside out.

“She understands the pressure of elite sport. She would not expect constant attention or make unreasonable demands.” His cold eyes studied me closely. “The two of you could have dinner while you’re here.”

“I’m here to compete.” I tried to hold his gaze and failed, flicking it away.

“You will still eat.”

“Yes. With the team. At the Village.”

“One evening, Ren. It would do you good to spend time with someone outside of skating. You won’t be elite forever. You have perhaps a year or two left in you. You need to think about the future, about the family name.”

The future, the family name. What about what I wanted? “I don’t know her.”

“This is generally why people meet.”

There was no humor in his voice, just plain fact. I often wondered whether my mother had been like him, calculating and contractual in everything.