He recovered fast and finished his answer to the reporter with something easy about "team effort" and "trusting the guys around him," the kind of line he could probably say in his sleep. But his eyes kept flicking back to me over the reporter's shoulder, like he needed to check I hadn't disappeared.
"I'll catch up with you," I told Harlow, who was already smirking like she planned this whole thing herself, which knowing her, she might have.
"Take your time," she said, and slipped off toward the exit with a look I chose to ignore.
I waited by the railing near the tunnel, half the crowd filtering past me, until Rhys finally broke away from the reporter and jogged over, still in his under-gear, hair stuck to his forehead, cheeks flushed from the ice and the win and probably something else
