The knock on my door comes late, around midnight. I’m curled up in bed in my pajamas, laptop open and papers spread out over the duvet, yawning and going over last-minute details for the party the day after tomorrow. Nat and I were originally going to share a room, but when my grandma couldn’t make the trip, we each got our own, which is convenient. Especially for surprise party planning purposes.

Also for sex, I’m not gonna lie.

My parents went all out on the hotel—I guess they figure their baby boy may only be going for Olympic gold once—so we’re within walking distance of the snow park. Ben has been dividing his time between here and the Athletes’ Village in the week since we arrived. I know he wants to have the full Olympic experience, but this place is super convenient for training and means he can see Nat at the end of every day.

He and Adam have both been busy, so Nat and I have been doing the tourist thing mostly by ourselves. We took the train down to the Coastal Cluster, where all the ice events are taking place, and caught a hockey game yesterday. We’ve eaten tons of great food and even went to Seoul one day to do some shopping and so Nat could check out a temple she wanted to see for book research.

This afternoon we watched the slopestyle and my parents invited us to dinner with Ben, but I begged off, so I could come back and do party prep. Top secret party prep, which means I creep over to the door like a spy to check the peephole, because if Nat’s out there, then all of this stuff will have to disappear fast before I can let her in.

Instead, I see Adam. He’s slouched against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, head down, hair hanging over his face. His hands are jammed in the pockets of his jeans and his whole body screams exhaustion. But his head jerks up when he hears the snick of the deadbolt and by the time I’ve got the door open he’s pushing off the wall and walking toward me.

“Hey.” He opens his arms and envelops me in a hard hug. Cold air clings to his jacket and chills my skin through my cotton pajama top, but I don’t care. I press myself up against his broad chest and hold on with everything I’ve got, waiting to find out what’s going on.

After a few minutes he lets out a deep sigh that ruffles the hair on top of my head.

“You okay?” My voice is muffled by his jacket, but he hears me.

“Yeah. At least, I will be.”

His hands drop to my hips, and he leans back far enough to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Do you want to come in?”

He grins, since he’s been sleeping here almost every night despite the pressroom in the Village that his boss set him up with. In fact, he’s got his own key, and his clothes are taking up half the drawer space, so it’s kind of ridiculous for me to be issuing an invitation.

“I do want to come in,” he says. His voice is deep and gravely, and suddenly I’m not feeling sleepy anymore.

We step into the room and he goes straight for the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water, downing half of it before he takes off his jacket. I bustle around, trying to get all my papers in some kind of order and then giving up and putting them in a half-ass stack on the table. I’ve gone over everything a hundred times. It will be fine.

Anyway, I can always set my alarm and get up early to check again.

“I thought you were going out with Zeke tonight to take pictures.”

Adam toes off his shoes and flops down on his side of the bed.

“I was going to, but he got caught up in that Instagram scavenger hunt thing with Autumn. She wanted to do a planning meeting tonight.”

“Autumn? Really?”

One corner of his mouth tips up. “What’s wrong with Autumn?”

I press my lips together because there’s nothing wrong with Autumn exactly. Aside from the fact that she used to be my brother’s fuck buddy so Nat, naturally, is not a huge fan. Also, she’s so focused on winning and her career that I would not be at all surprised to find out she’s part robot. I mean, I saw her pull Brussel sprouts out of her bag and eat them once. For a snack.

“I just can’t picture her and Zeke hanging out,” I say, because I’m diplomatic as fuck. “That’s all.”

“Well, apparently there’s a huge deal on the line and her sponsors wanted her to team up with him.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Autumn is all about seizing opportunities. “But why is Zeke doing it? He doesn’t seem to care too much about that stuff.”

Adam flashes me a grin. “He didn’t say, but I think he wants to get in her pants.”

I punch his shoulder. “Classy, Westlake.”

He shrugs. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

The weird, sad energy he brought in with him is fading, and I’m so happy to see him smiling that I don’t want to push him about what happened. Not yet, anyway. So I lean over and push the dark curls hanging down over his forehead back, then skim my lips over the wings of his eyebrows.

“I missed you today,” I tell him. “You were gone a long time.”

He was up at dawn and out the door, heading out to cover the men’s slopestyle qualifications. Nat and I were in the audience, so I didn’t get to watch any of Adam’s on-camera work live, but I caught a few glimpses of him at the base of the course, interviewing people at the end.

“I watched part of your commentary tonight when I got back here. You’re really good.”

“I was okay.” He turns red under his tan, and I trace the sharp lines of his cheekbones.

I’m not lying. He was amazing, laughing and joking around with the other announcer and giving lots of inside information about how it felt to do each trick.

“I’m serious,” I insist. “Usually listening to those guys is all, ‘It’s a double squeeze wart twist, good air there, but now she’s into the frontside olly olly oxen free and that’s a tough one, Jim. Well, she nailed that one and she finishes up with the wingardium leviosa, which should net her a nice score.’”

He laughs. “I haven’t heard of the double squeeze wart twist.”

“You know what I mean. A lot of them just list tricks. You made it interesting.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“You’re welcome.”

He closes his eyes and sighs. “It was a long day.”

I can see his tension, despite his laughter. It’s in the way he holds his shoulders, stiff and high, and the ticking muscle in his jaw. It makes my heart ache because it proves how much today cost him. My mind flashes back to the shot that made me close my browser window and switch over to party planning. It was a close-up of Adam’s face as he studied the course, tracing the lines with his eyes and waiting for the next rider to drop in. I don’t think he knew he was being filmed, because the jovial smile he wore in every other shot was gone. In its place was a deep hunger, the craving so raw that I couldn’t stand to watch.

He kicked ass out there today, but it cost him.

“Take off your shirt.”

One eye pops open. “Bossy.”

“You love it.” I stand and head for the bathroom. “Pants too,” I call over my shoulder.

He grumbles but I hear him get up, and when I come back in, bottle of oil in hand, he’s standing at the foot of the bed totally naked.

“Told you, you love it,” I say, eyeing the jut of his erection.

“Caught me.” He reaches for me but I shake my head.

“Lie down on your stomach. I’m giving you a massage.”

He shoots me a slow, lazy grin that temps me to drop the damn oil and get busy immediately, but I resist heroically and wait for him to turn around and climb onto the bed, where he settles onto his stomach with a happy sigh. I wait a minute, watching him relax, before silently losing my own clothes.

“No falling asleep.” I climb up after him and swing one leg over so I’m straddling him, my ass fitting perfectly against the dip in his lower back. “I have plans for you later.”

“I’ll stay awake,” he promises. “Fuck, are you naked?”

He twists around, trying to get a look at me, but I lean forward, pinning him to the bed.

“No peeking,” I whisper in his ear. “Relax. Close your eyes.”

I ran the little bottle of oil under the hot water in the bathroom to warm it, so I dribble a few drops on his back, watching them run down the strong planes of muscle before dipping my fingers in.

“Are you writing on me?”

I eye the heart I just drew. “Maybe.”

“Keep going,” he says. “Touch me, Piper.”

I lean forward again, not caring that oil smears on my breasts, and nuzzle the nape of his neck. “Okay.”

I add more oil and start with some long, sweeping strokes from his lower back all the way up to his neck, searching for knots. There are several right along his spine, so I dig in with the heels of my hands, pressing on them until I feel the tension easing. Then I walk my fingers up to his neck, brushing his hair out of the way so I can concentrate on that sweet spot at the base of his skull.

Adam groans. “That is so good. You feel amazing up there. Let me turn over.”

“Not yet.” I lean in, rocking my pelvis as I skim kisses over his shoulder blades, and, oh, that feels good. I wiggle around on top of him, grinding down to get the pressure I’m craving.

Is it dry humping if there’s oil involved? If I’m so turned on that I’m probably wet enough to be dripping all over his back?

“Fucking hell, Piper,” he groans. “I can feel how ready you are. Please let me turn over.”

“Okay.” I still my hands, and before I can even lift them off his skin he’s moving, twisting underneath me, both of our bodies slick with oil. He stares up at me, his eyes dark and hooded and unreadable. I squirm, wanting him to move and fill me, but he holds me still with his hands on my hips.

“Let me look at you for a minute.”

I stare back at him, wishing I could open his mind and read his thoughts. Wishing I knew how to make everything better.

Instead, I lean forward and kiss him, teasing those plush lips open with my tongue, then tilting my head and kissing him as deep as I can. He releases my hips with a low growl in the back of his throat, and suddenly I’m on my back and he’s above me, balanced on his elbows with his hard cock pressed up against my opening, so close to where I’m aching for him.

“I love you,” he rasps out, still staring deep into my eyes. “I’ll always love you, Piper.”

I try to hold his gaze, but it’s too intense. Because he’s telling me he loves me, but it feels like a goodbye, and I’m not ready to think about that yet. I can’t. I still have time.

“I love you too,” I whisper, staring at his shoulder, and that must be enough for him because he moves his hips and slides inside me.

We both moan as he thrusts deep and then pulls out again, teasing me by rubbing his tip over my clit before sinking back inside. I still can’t look at him, so I close my eyes and just feel…his hardness inside of me, the ridge of his cock rubbing over my inner walls and driving me wild, the grip of his hands on mine as he raises them above my head and holds on tight. He lowers himself even farther, nearly crushing me into the bed, pressing his chest against my breasts, and kissing me wet and deep and sweet enough to break my heart.

I wrap my legs around his back and suddenly every thrust has him hitting that spot that only appears when Adam is inside me. Maybe it’s like the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts: it only shows up when I have extreme need.

I huff out a little laugh at the thought, and Adam breaks our kiss so he can look at me.

“I love to see you smile,” he says. “I’d do anything to make you look like that forever.”

I want to answer him, I do, but he keeps pushing into me, slow and steady and perfect, and I’m too lost in sensation to speak. All I can do is stare at him as the knot inside me gets tighter and tighter and then shatters.

“Fuck yes,” he grunts, thrusting even faster. “Come for me, Piper.”

I gasp and throw my head back, helpless, as every muscle in my body seizes up and then melts into a delicious puddle. Adam stiffens above me and calls out my name, then buries his head in my neck. I feel him pulsing inside me, and I throw my arms around him, hands sliding over his slippery back, pulling him as close as I can as we ride through the aftershocks.

We stay that way for a while, both of us reluctant to move, until Adam finally lifts his head and drops a sweet kiss on my lips.

“Wow,” I say. “That was…”

“Yeah.” He rolls off me and sprawls out on his back, one arm thrown over his head. I watch his chest rise and fall.

“We should clean up.”

“Yeah,” he says again, but a second later his eyes drift closed and he’s asleep, his chest moving gently up and down. I survey the damage, but apparently we weren’t too crazy with the oil because the sheets look okay, and Adam’s face is so peaceful that there’s no way I’m waking him up.

Instead, I pull the covers over him and go to the bathroom to clean myself up a little. I stare into my own eyes in the mirror and the magical orgasm endorphins disappear.

He wasn’t saying goodbye. You still have time to figure this out.

I repeat it a few times, but my eyes stay sad and solemn. Because whatever Adam went through today hurt him in a place so deep inside that I can’t touch it, and it’s obvious that I’ve been fooling myself if I think that a few announcer gigs and some hot sex is going to cure his inability to be around winter.

He wasn’t saying goodbye.

Maybe not yet, but he will be, and I’m running out of time.