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My father seemed to assume I’d follow in his footsteps. He managed a hedge fund in Boston. It would be the path of least resistance, and he made a bundle from it. But it was hard for me to imagine waking up every day and being motivated by that. He got a thrill from money that I’d never experienced. He claimed it was because I was spoiled and had never known life without it. He might be right, but that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t motivated by amassing money. Swimming was my lifeblood, what drove and fueled me. Maybe there’d be some way to do that professionally, coaching or running a swim facility, or something else I hadn’t thought of yet. I wondered what Emma would suggest.
Emma. She was never far from my mind. But I still didn’t know much about her. I’d frozen right up when she’d tried to talk to me last night. I’d had years of experience not opening up, shutting people down. It was like an automatic reflex. I wasn’t even sure I knew how to go about doing things differently. But she made me want to try.
There was something so humble and sweet about her. She downplayed her own athleticism, but I knew she pushed herself, set her own goals and worked toward them. But she struck me as balanced, too, with a peaceful sort of calm at her center. No, I didn’t know much about her yet, but I knew I loved being around her.
She felt so good, her skin silky smooth, her hair velvety soft when she wore it down at night. I couldn’t help stealing every opportunity I could to touch her. It was like a fever building in me, burning me up. I knew we’d fit together, she and I, her perfect breasts in my hands, her straddling me as I took her against the wall or in the shower or over and over again in bed.
OK. Time to go workout. With a massive erection. I adjusted myself and pulled on baggy athletic shorts and a loose T-shirt to hit the gym. We were due to leave San Antonio in three days. After a weekend off, we’d all meet up again at another training facility in Georgia. Our original plans to head to Rio early had been changed due to concerns over the Zika virus, so we’d be staying in the U.S. until the first of August.
I grabbed a water bottle and headed out into the mid-day near-100-degree heat and humidity. It was a good day to stay indoors, especially if you had the right person with you under the right set of circumstances. I was sure Emma and I could find lots of ways to enjoy my hotel room. But that wasn’t happening, at least not at the moment, so I chose the next best option: pounding it out at the gym.
§
“You’re tense tonight.” Emma worked on my shoulder, the one that had prevented me from competing the last time around. I’d devoted so much time to resting, then stretching and strengthening that shoulder. This summer, it wouldn’t hold me back.
“Opening day is in 18 days. My first event is the day after.” These weren’t days made for relaxation. I felt coiled like a snake waiting to strike.
“But you need to relax so you have the energy to compete.”
“Relax,” I repeated, as if never having heard the word before. She finished, giving me one last stroke. Man, I loved the way she touched me. The woman was magic.
“Yes, relax. It’s this thing people do when they’re not working.” She headed into the kitchen to wash the oil off her hands and get herself a bottle of water. She came back with one for me, too.
“I’ve heard about it.” I nodded, as if considering a strange, foreign concept.
“Seriously, how do you unwind?”
“I pummel my body into exhaustion and then I fall asleep,” I replied honestly. Sex, too. That worked. But I edited that option out for her.
“Have you tried yoga?”
What followed was a ridiculous half hour. First, she modeled yoga poses with grace, balance and insane flexibility. That part I really enjoyed, seeing her twist her limbs into all sorts of contortions. Yes, we could have a lot of fun, she and I.
But then the ridiculousness would kick in, when she tried to guide me into the same poses. In the water, I was Poseidon, king of the ocean. On land, I was less agile. Balance was not my middle name. I felt like a big, dumb oaf next to her, especially after she stood there holding a perfect bow pose, arm extended, hand wrapped around her lifted ankle as she balanced on one foot. I sure enjoyed watching her do that pose. But me? Not going to happen.
Laughing as I tumbled out of yet another failed attempt, she admitted defeat. For now. “We’ll have to work on that,” she agreed.
“As long as you’re the one teaching me, I’m all for it.”
She smiled, then looked away, shyness overcoming her. As much as I loved it, watching a touch of pink steal across her cheeks, I knew where it could lead. Any second now she might pull away, pick herself up and head over to the door to say goodnight. I needed to act fast.
I reached out and took her hand. “Want to hang out and watch a movie?”
She pulled away, not meeting my eye, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I should probably go.”
No! “We could play a game.”
“Do you have Monopoly lying around here somewhere?” She looked around my room, clearly not believing my offer.
“I have a deck of cards.” I stood up, wondering where they were. Or if I actually had them. Maybe we could play poker? Strip poker.
“No strip poker.”
Damn it. “Want a beer?” I headed for the kitchen.
“Are you drinking?” she called after me.
Damn it again. This close to the ultimate competition, the moment for which I’d been preparing my entire life, no, I was not drinking. After the games, hell yeah. But right now I was staying stone-cold sober.
“I’m going to have another smoothie,” I admitted. So sexy. If I were James Bond I’d be mixing an exotic and potent cocktail that would get her out of her clothes in 60 seconds. But I was me, which meant I was making a peanut butter chocolate shake.
“Ooh! Can I have some?”
She came to join me and I gave her a wink and a smile. “Do you just like me for my smoothies?”
“Guilty as charged.”
I worked my magic. I’d figured out how to pack nearly 1,000 calories into a shake. You could do it if you substituted ice cream, chocolate syrup and whipped cream for almond milk.
We settled together on the couch, her sipping at a small glass, me chugging my gallon. I really knew how to impress the ladies. Wiping any possible chocolate mustache from my face, I turned to her.
“So, I’m not sure I have a deck of cards. And I do not own Monopoly. But we could always play truth or dare.”
“That’s a drinking game.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’m not drinking. I know I’m a buzz kill.”
“Are you kidding?” She reached over and put a hand on my forearm. Her touch felt electric. I wondered if she felt it, too. She swallowed, looked down to where our skin touched, then removed her hand. Flustered, she continued. “It’s a nice change of pace. I like to drink, but my last boyfriend hit it pretty hard. It could get kind of scary.”
“Did he hurt you?” I could go find him and hurt him if he had.
“No, it wasn’t like that. He just got out of control. And he liked to fight.”
“Sounds like a great guy.” I still might have to go find him and hurt him.
She shrugged. “When he was sober and trying to impress me? Sure he was. It just took me a while to see through it.”
Yes, I would have to put that at the top of my post-Olympic to do list. Find Emma’s former boyfriend and make him pay. The look of hurt, embarrassment and maybe even shame that crossed her lovely face made my stomach twist into a knot.
“Hey.” I stretched my arm along the back of the couch, letting my fingers caress her shoulder. “It’s not your fault that you wanted to believe in him. It’s his fault for taking advantage of your trust.”
I must have said the right thing because she brightened up, looking at me with gratitude. “So you want to play truth or dare, huh?”
I nodded. Emphasis on the dare. I had some great dares I’d like to try out on her.
“You?
??ll just choose dare all the time.”
D’oh! She saw right through me. “You might be right,” I admitted.
“OK, how about three truths, then one dare?”
“One truth, one dare,” I bargained.
“Two truths, one dare,” she countered.
I took a moment to consider her offer. “Done. I’ll start. What’s your favorite part of your job?”
“That’s easy,” she replied straight away. “Making people happy.”
