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I lie on my stomach, reaching out and lacing my fingers with his. “After I broke my knee, I knew I wasn’t going to Worlds, and I had to go to be considered for the Olympic team. One of the girls I was always going back and forth with went. While she didn’t make the team, I remember lying in a foam pit like this, feeling sorry for myself and thinking my dreams were over. My coach, he was the biggest dick ever, but he didn’t let me wallow. He saw the greatest in me, so he looked down at me and asked, ‘Do you like it down there?’ I was so confused, and before I could even come up with anything to say back to him, he said something that has stayed with me my whole life. ‘Losers stay down. Winners pick themselves up and find a way to win.’”
I pause, letting my words sink in as my eyes search his. “Things aren’t going your way, but who cares? This is your dream. You define your future. If you want a meeting, then damn it, go get one.”
“It’s not that easy—”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not, and believe me, I know it’s not the same sport, but gymnastics is just as hard. When I decided I wanted to go to college to compete, I sent videos to every university I wanted to be a part of. My scores, everything, I sent it all. It took hours upon hours. I had meeting after meeting. They came to see me train. The funny thing is, Bellevue wasn’t even on my list, but they came to me. They heard I was in the market for a school, and they wanted me. So, here I am. In a place I didn’t expect to go to, and I’m pretty fucking happy. My coach was completely against it. He wanted me to stay and coach for him, but I had dreams. I want to be able to do big things, and I want bigger than that gym. I want my own gym. What do you want?”
“I want to be in the NHL,” he says simply. “Maybe I have been sitting back, waiting for something to happen. Hoping other people will make things happen for me. I can’t do that.”
“No, you can’t,” I insist, holding his gaze. “You are amazing, you are strong, and you are very smart. Ryan, you can make things happen. I mean, let’s be honest. I didn’t want to be with you, but here I am, in a foam pit, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around you and tell you that I will get you a meeting. That I’ll put you in the NHL tomorrow, just to see you smile. You deserve the world, and if the world isn’t going to give it to you, then you go and take it.”
He doesn’t say anything. His eyes search mine as my heart pounds in my ears. I don’t want to piss him off. I don’t want him to feel like he’s wasted his time, because I truly don’t think he has. He’s playing, he’s working, and he’s smart as a whip. He’s built a backup plan, but I know he doesn’t want to acknowledge that. He wants the NHL, and damn it, I want it for him.
I want the world for him.
When he starts moving, he throws foam blocks out of the way before covering my body with his. I wrap my arms around his neck and stare up into his striking blue eyes as our hearts pound against each other. He cups my jaw with one hand, moving hair out of my eyes with the other. I know he wants to say something, but he just stares at me. I squeeze his arms, a small smile pulling at my lips. “I believe in you.”
He swallows hard and presses his nose to mine. “Thank you.” Ryan’s eyes drift shut. With his voice low, he whispers, “Man, I’m glad I was persistent with you.”
I nod. “I wish I hadn’t resisted as hard as I had.”
His eyes meet mine, so dark and so blue. “But it makes our story so much better.”
“Yeah,” I agree, but while he is smiling, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I know he wants to say more; I can see it all in his eyes. His shoulders are taut, there is a tic in his jaw, and his eyes… They hold all kinds of goals and dreams. I want them all. I want to help him reach them, and I want to be right there beside him. Cheering him on. When he doesn’t say anything, I take his lips with mine, and he lets me. Within seconds, I turn to goo under his mouth, but that’s nothing new.
Ryan does that to me.
He draws sweet kisses from me, his hands holding me so close and so fiercely. I wonder if this is what Amelia was talking about earlier. While I think Drew is junk, I understand what Amelia was saying about how she felt.
I feel that for Ryan.
“So the next couple weeks are gonna suck, huh?”
I lean into Ryan, holding his hand with both of mine. We’re heading back to my dorm. He insisted on walking me back, even though I know he is beat. I’d much rather go back to his house, but he needs to sleep. I need the distraction, because he’s right; the next couple weeks are going to suck, and I don’t want to think about them.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “I have meets every weekend until break, and ugh, finals.”
“Yeah, I have a lot, and the Assassins are going on a homestead since they’ll be traveling all of December. So I think I might be working a lot with them to get my hours.”
That makes sense. “I don’t blame you.”
“And then I need to get some meetings.”
I smile, pressing my chin into his arm. “Yes, you do.”
“You know, we haven’t talked about break. Are you going home?”
I shake my head, my stomach turning sour. “Actually, no. My sponsor offered to send me home, but since my mom has moved, there isn’t room for me in her apartment. We could make that work, but I wouldn’t be able to train.”
He takes on a quizzical expression. “You can’t go back to your old gym?”
I scoff. “Oh no. When I left, I left. My coach told me I was dead to him. He fired my mom and everything.”
“Jesus, dramatic much?”
“You have no clue.”
“Why’s he like that? He basically made you who you are.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, but he’s a prideful man. He discovered me, and he always said he put everything he had in me. When I failed him and decided to go to college, he wanted me to go to UCLA because that would look good on his wall, and then I could always come back. But when I chose ‘some shit Tennessee school,’ he lost it.”
“That’s bullshit,” he says protectively. “He should be proud.”
“Yeah, but he isn’t. He knows my plans for finishing school, opening my own gym, and bringing my mom here. I’m competition now.”
He kisses my temple. “I think it’s badass.”
“Thanks.”
“So I guess we have all of winter break together,” he says, and I look up at him.
When he waggles his brows, I grin. “We do.”
“Seems like a good time to burn a card.”
“It does.”
“And you can come spend the holidays with my family and me.”
“I’d love that.”
