Page 110 of Racing Hearts

“Kath,” he says, laughing into my damp braid.

His hands wrap around my shoulders, dragging me toward him. I cinch myself into the pocket of his arms, letting our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Inhaling his citrus smell. Feeling our hearts beat together.

“How are you here?” I whisper into his chest. “Why are you here?”

Adrian pulls away so he can grab my hand. Our fingers braid together, tethering me in place. The world might be crumbling, but Adrian is here. Adrian is real.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this happy to see me,” he says breathlessly. “I have a whole speech ready. I was hoping for happy after the speech.”

I squeeze his hand. “I want that. I want to hear it all. But I have a speech for you, too.”

“Should we arm wrestle to decide who goes first?”

I grin. “We already know I’ll win.”

He laughs. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Thoughts are tumbling through my mind like an avalanche gaining steam. I could have used a few hours to try to put everything into a semblance of order. I don’t have that, though, so I’ll just have to speak from the heart.

I take a step back, still gripping his hand, but far enough that I can look into his jade eyes. They hold me steady, fixing me to the ground with enough certainty that I know I can speak.

“You once told me,” I say, “you admired the fact that I have never quit rowing, even when it’s gotten tough, even when it’s felt impossible. For a long time, I thought that was because I had no other choice but to row, that I am no one without this sport. But, recently, I’ve realized that’s wrong. I row because I love it, because it makes my life better. I love the kind of life I get to live with rowing in it, despite the hardship and the pain.”

I can feel the emotion rising in my throat, and my eyes are already wet, but I don’t care. I don’t bother to collect myself. I just need to get these words out, no matter how they sound.

“That’s how I feel about you, too,” I say between gulps of air. “My life is better with you in it. Loving you has made me a better rower and a better person. I know you’re going to be in Florida and I’m going to be in California. And I know that won’t always be easy. But I still want to be with you, regardless of the distance, or the stress. I’m sorry I quit on us. I shouldn’t have done that. But, if you’ll forgive me, if you’ll have me, I want to take it back.”

Adrian’s mouth parts slightly, his warm fingers coiling ever tighter around mine. “Sorry, did you just say that you love me?”

My mouth explodes with an unbidden smile. “Yes. Yes, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I love how strong and steady you are. I love your enthusiasm and support. I love the way you’ve pushed me to be better, reminded me of how strong I really am. You’re the best coach I’ve ever worked with. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

Adrian reaches out to touch my face, thumb catching one of my tears. My cheek sinks into his palm.

“Too much?” I ask.

“Never. As usual, you are nothing but extraordinary.” He holds his hand on my cheek for another long moment. “But we need to sort out some logistics. We seem to have different impressions of just how much distance is going to be between us.”

“What do you mean?”

A smile lifts the edge of his mouth. “I didn’t take a job in Florida, Kath. I took a job at your training center in California.”

“What job?” I ask.

“The men’s national team coach retired earlier this summer. USRowing has asked me to replace him.”

“The…men’s national team,” I say, still in disbelief.

“There’s only the one,” he says with a laugh.

My mind works over snapshots of memories: Maxwell freaking out about his coach. Carla’s insistence that I keep my evaluation secret and her caginess about why. Her email, Rohan’s TikTok. They weren’t specific about what job he’d been offered.

Adrian. He’s not just taking on a challenge. He’s taking on the challenge.

“Wait, and you’re okay with that?” I ask.

Adrian’s eyes gleam with a smile that is both timid and heartbreakingly self-assured. “I wouldn’t have been two months ago. Maybe even two weeks ago. I didn’t admit this to myself until recently, but I’ve been—I’ve been comfortable with where I am. I have a life that I love, but also a life that I can handle. But that’s a double-edged sword, isn’t it? Because I’ve also been afraid. You were right about that. I was afraid because I was so sure I was going to fail. Again.”

“What changed?” I ask, barely daring to breathe over his next words.