Chapter 84

Brushing the hair back from Dante’s face, Ryan kisses his forehead and asks, “Are you getting sleepy?”

Dante nods, wraps both arms around Ryan’s own, and sighs. “It’s been a long day,” he admits. From here he can see the digital clock on the van’s dashboard and it’s almost quarter after five—too late to practice now. “I’ll just get to the rink early tomorrow,” he says. He doesn’t have to work, right? So he’ll get up at dawn, head to the rink, skate after the hockey team leaves the ice. He won’t have to leave by noon, or two, or even four if he doesn’t want to—he has nothing to do but practice. It’s just as he’s always dreamed, isn’t it? All the time in the world for his skating. So why doesn’t it feel as great as he thought it would? With another sigh, he mumbles, “Maybe I should call Bobby—”