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I walked up to one of the reporters on the end of the first row.
“What’s going on?”
Her eyes lit excitedly. “Blaine Crews is warming up. It’s amazing to watch him.”
“What?” My brows knitted together.
“He’s been in there an hour probably. God, he’s gorgeous.” She sighed, and I thought about swiping the puppy love look off her face.
“Thanks.”
I stepped closer to watch him take another lap.
I felt the anger bead in my veins. Another lie. Another playboy move to get me back in bed. There was no story. The pool wasn’t closed. Blaine was swimming while the entire world watched him cross one length after another.
And now what? I didn’t have anything to give to Vic. Nothing. Not a single damn story. I didn’t have anything feel-good or newsworthy. What I had was a bunch of pickup lines from a professional player.
I could kill him for what he had done. I growled lowly and stomped toward the swim block where his coach held the timer outright.
“Ava?”
I turned around at the shock of hearing my name. I stood awkwardly staring at my former boss.
“Wow. Phil. Hi.”
He stood from the seats. “Good to see you here. Looks like you still have the Blaine Crews beat.”
“Something like that.” I wasn’t going to explain my reason for marching in to see the swimmer.
Phil had on a blue polo like always. He adjusted his glasses. “You know I hated how things went for you down in Sydney.”
I held up my hands to stop him from embarrassing both of us. I didn’t want to relive the shame again.
“Really, Phil. It’s water under the bridge. I have a new job—I love it.”
“Really? That’s great. I’m glad to hear it.”
I tried to smile. The anger for Blaine was bubbling under my skin. I wanted to get my hands around his neck.
“It was good to see you again,” I lied.
“You too. Maybe we can get a drink or something before the games are over.”
“Maybe.” I stepped away and turned. I was not interested in spending time with anyone from Sports Now.
I continued my march toward the dive block, ignoring the signs to stay behind the sold red line painted on the tile.
I recognized Blaine’s coach.
“I need to speak to Blaine,” I announced.
His eyes focused on the time. “Come on, damn it,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m talking to Blaine.” He never looked up.
“Well, I would like to talk to Blaine.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
