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I’d gone over to his place, I’d fallen for him the second he’d kissed me, opened my heart, and he’d fucking torn it out of my chest and tossed it away. Why the fuck did I keep going back for more?

None of that mattered. There were interviews and briefings, and I was late for everything.

I texted the team coach, telling him I was five minutes out, and hurried over to the PR building, hair a mess and clothes all creased. The team all scowled at my mad dash toward them. I clearly was not their favorite person after disappearing all morning.

“We were able to get our slot shifted back, you’re good,” Miles said, with a whole lot of judgmental scowling.

“What the hell, Cam?” Zoe grumbled under her breath. Her scowl was firmly in place too, with good reason. The team were all camera ready, makeup done, team colors vibrant and crisp. I probably looked like some random guy they’d found at the side of the road, shoved into a Team Canada jacket, and told to smile.

“I know, I know, sorry.”

Casey frowned. “Bro, get your shit together. You’re making us look bad.”

There were other teams in the waiting room, giving us the side-eye and whispering.

“I said I’m fucking sorry,” I snapped.

The room quietened. Phones still rang. Someone from Team Italy laughed near the doors. A volunteer called another group through in Japanese. But the small circle around us fell quiet.

Casey raised his hands. “Fine, man. Just sayin’.”

Zoe looked away.

Great. Now I’d made it worse.

I rubbed both hands over my face. “Shit, sorry guys. I’m here now, okay?”

Coach Miles gave me the dead stare. “You’re about to walk into a room full of international press. Whatever is going on, lock it down now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” My heart thumped, doing the opposite of calming down.

“Then act like it.”

“I will.” I shoved both hands into my pockets, hoping nobody saw them trembling. I could still smell Ren’s soap on me, which wasn’t helping get my head in the game. If I let myself think, I could still feel his hands on me too. His mouth. The way he’d smiled into his kisses. Then the cold, right after. I’d come out of the shower, and it had been as though he’d turned into another person. That other version of himself. He wasn’t going to watch me dance. His explanation made sense. Lots of dancers didn’t watch on competition day. But then he’d told me to make sure nobody saw me when I left, like I was some fucking whore to be ashamed of. The joke was on me, because he didn’t even pay. I paid. Every time. With my heart.

A media coordinator opened the door and waved us inside. “Team Canada, please.”

Miles caught my shoulder right at the door. “Keep your answer short. Don’t improvise.”

“I’m good. I’ve got this.”

Ever since the drug test, he’d been colder. The test had been clean, obviously. But it didn’t matter. Someone, somewhere had wanted it done. And those photos of me and Ren supposedly drunk outside a bar weren’t helping.

The room I stepped into wasn’t a proper press conference setup. No raised stage or long table with name cards. It was more of a media huddle, less formal. Reporters crowded loosely in a semicircle. Phones and microphones pointed our way. Two big cameras stood at the back, their lights bright enough to wash out all the shadows.

Casey and Jen stood side by side. Zoe moved into place beside me. They all looked polished and presentable. I had no idea what kind of mess I resembled.

The media coordinator stepped forward and raised her hand. “We have ten minutes with the Canadian ice-dance teams. Please state your name and outlet before asking a question. Questions relating to tomorrow’s rhythm dance only.

A woman in the front lifted her phone. “Kendra Liu, CBC Sports. For both pairs, how are you feeling going into the fist competition tomorrow?”

Jen answered first, talking about preparation, consistency, and how proud they were to represent Canada. She sounded calm and professional, not like she’d spent the last few hours getting naked with one of her direct competitors and then being thrown out of his apartment like trash.

Casey gave a shorter answer with his typical charming grin. “We’re ready, we’ve done the work, now we’re going to enjoy it.”

Zoe smiled. “The same, really. We’re excited. Our rhythm dance is strong. We’ve had some excellent practices, and we trust each other.”

She glanced at me. So did everyone else.