Nicolas’s POV
I spent the entire next morning pretending nothing was wrong.
I hated how aware I was of her now. It felt like someone had turned up the volume on a radio I never asked to listen to. Everything she did, from the sound of her voice explaining formulas to the way she pushed her glasses up when she concentrated replayed in my head without permission.
It was annoying. Distracting. And it needed to stop.
Which is why I was grateful Lyon was already waiting for me at the rink with a bag of protein bars and too much energy at nine in the morning.
The rink was cold, my favorite kind of cold, the kind that bit into skin and cleared your head. But today, even the ice couldn’t cut through the fog in my brain.
“What’s with your face?” Lyon said immediately, tossing me a bar.
“What
