Page 504 of Bad Prince

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There’s no pretty way around it.

Not goodbye, exactly.

But re-entry.

The second we step back onto campus, we become people with schedules again.

Athletes.

Students.

Public versions of ourselves.

Tristan and Stella in Newport get tucked away somewhere private and warm for a few hours.

At least outwardly.

I take her duffel from her shoulder and set it down just so I can get both hands on her waist.

Her palms flatten briefly against my chest.

“You hate this part. too.”

“Yes.”

She smiles a little.

“Good.”

I kiss her forehead first.

Then her mouth.

Slow.

Sleepy.

Real.

“Practice,” I murmur against her lips.

“I know.”

“Then film.”

“I know.”

“Then probably ice baths and suffering.”

Her eyes narrow.

“You’re not making this more appealing.”

I smile despite myself.

“Trying to remind us we still live in the world.”

Her hand slides to the back of my neck.

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