Page 148 of The Pucking Arrangement

“You know,” he says after a moment, his tone shifting, “when I first saw you at Le Poisson Rouge, I thought we’d have incredible stage chemistry.” His smile turns mischievous. “You’re beautiful, talented, passionate about music. My perfect performance partner.”

I force a small smile, but my mind is still somewhere else, stuck in a loop of all the things Dmitri didn’t say.

“But?” I ask, sensing there’s more.

Luka spears a bite of risotto, chewing thoughtfully before leveling me with a knowing look. “But I saw how you looked at him when you thought no one was watching.” He shrugs, casual but certain. “Anddraga, even if I were into women, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

I nearly choke on my wine. “Wait, what? You’re?—”

“Gay? Yes.” He laughs, delighted by my stunned expression. “Did you think I was hitting on you all this time?”

“I mean…kind of?” My cheeks burn. “The way you act on stage, all that flirtatious energy?—”

“Performance.” He waves his fork with a flourish. “Audiences love a romance, a connection. They want to believe we might be lovers making music together. It sells tickets.” He winks. “And draws in YouTube followers.”

The laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it, startled and unfiltered. The first real one I’ve managed all day. “So all this time?—”

“My boyfriend Marko would be very disappointed if I had actual designs on you.” Luka’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Though he did acknowledge you are gorgeous, so I have full permission to put on a show for the cameras.”

Relief floods me, but it’s immediately chased by embarrassment. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“Not at all. I’m anexcellentactor.” He preens dramatically, then leans forward, smirking. “And speaking of acting—your hockey player is not exactly subtle, is he?”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“He showed up at our rehearsal last week,” Luka says, like it’s nothing. “Looming in the back of the studio like some brooding guardian angel. I assumed you knew.”

My heart stutters. “He did not.”

“Oh, but he did.” Luka’s eyes dance with amusement. “Full murder glare and everything. Quite intimidating, actually. He’s huge, draga. Stood there for about twenty minutes, watching us work through that tricky passage in Brahms. Then left without saying a word.”

I gape at him. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

He sighs theatrically. “I thought you knew. And it was rather romantic. The big, scary hockey player secretly watching his love from afar. VeryRomeo and Juliet—minus the poison, hopefully.”

I sink back in my chair, my pulse roaring in my ears. Dmitri came to our rehearsal. He stood in the shadows, watching me play, listening. And he said nothing about it.

“He looked ready to snap my cello in half,” Luka adds, taking a sip of his wine. “Which is fair enough. If I were straight and in love with you, I might feel the same way.”

“He’s not—” I start, then stop. My throat tightens. “I don’t know what he is.”

“Oh, he isin love with you, alright.” Luka sets his glass down with an air of finality. “Everything he feels might as well be tattooed on his forehead.”

I think about this morning. The rigid control. The way he wouldn’t meet my eyes. The absence of a single word—stay.

“Then why is he letting me leave?”

Luka studies me, his playfulness dimming into something more thoughtful. “Sometimes we convince ourselves that letting go is the selfless choice. That if we truly love someone, we should step aside for their dreams.” A pause, his voice quieter now. “Your Russian is pulling aEugene Onegin—you know, Pushkin’s hero who realizes too late what he’s thrown away? All that noble suffering and missed chances.” He shakes his head. “Complete bullshit, of course. You don’t have to sacrifice love. That’s just lazy storytelling.”

His words hit something raw inside me.

“What do I do?” The question slips out, small and uncertain.

Luka tilts his head. “What do you wantto do?”

I don’t even have to think about it.

“I want both.” The words come out unshaken, undeniable. “I want to play at the festival. In the grand European halls. And I also want Dmitri and Ris.”

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