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His eyes glittered, and he slapped a hand to his chest. “Is that a compliment coming from Mia Randalls?”
“Maybe.”
“Or is she just flirting with me?” He tapped the underside of my baseball cap, smiling. “I’d better go.” Carson grinned as he backed away, watching me the whole time. “Tell Mom I said hi,” he hollered, then winked and walked off.
I watched as he made his way to the coach and listened to something he was saying as he undressed, taking off his zip-up jacket first. He stretched his muscular arms, crossing them back and forth across his chest, warming up. All his muscles flickered with the movement, and I was so mesmerized by his washboard stomach, it took me a second to notice he had removed his warm-up pants, revealing tight green swim shorts. Of course Carson took that moment to catch my eye, and his grin turned to a self-satisfied smirk.
Biting my lip, I averted my gaze, even as my cheeks caught fire. Behind me, someone cleared their throat, then tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, honey. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Startled, I glanced to the sound of Mrs. Brooks.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Brooks.”
“What a nice surprise,” Mrs. Brooks said as she left her husband to take a seat next to me.
Carson’s words registered.Say hi to my mom.He had known Mr. and Mrs. Brooks were sitting close by. He wanted them to know I was there, and something about that made me feel special. I wasn’t just another friend watching him race.
“I’m so glad we made it. We got stuck behind an accident, serves us right for waiting until varsity was up. Did Carson ask you to come?” She smiled, glancing at her son.
In other words, she was trying to find out if I was there for Carson or someone else. I nodded and smiled, reminding myself they were still Ethan’s parents. They liked me. “Yeah.”
A glimmer of something passed through her eyes. “That’s wonderful, honey.” She patted my leg, and I found myself hoping she didn’t ask about Ethan. “Your little project must be going well then, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been kind of fun, actually.”
“It’s so nice, you two volunteering your time like that.”
I smiled, thinking of that day at dinner when Carson and I goaded each other. Clearly, she was never told the truth.
She leaned over and bumped my shoulder. “You know, Carson’s always been so fond of you. It’s nice to finally see you two spending some time together.”
My gaze shifted back to Carson, who was now uber-focused, his attention trained on the water. The first boys relay had started, and Carson didn’t waste a second. Instead of relaxing until it was his turn at the podium, he studied the other swimmers as they raced.
The next thirty minutes passed quickly with me squeezing Mrs. Brooks’ hand as Carson swam. He competed in two relays in which he won and stood on the block, waiting for the starting call of his final race.
He positioned himself, still as stone. And when the starting gun sounded, he propelled himself into the water, clearing nearly half the pool with just one dive. He kicked his legs like a fish until he began to surface, gliding through the clear blue, before using his arms.
Muscle glistened as his long arm strokes propelled him. He gained a small lead after the first lap. His movements were smooth, effortless, his kick turns faster than any I’d ever seen, and as I watched him, it made me wish I could swim like that, be so good at something.
He was almost a foot ahead of a kid from Cedar Creek—the closest thing to competition in this event. The others were far behind, and when he approached the wall again and turned with ease, kicking his feet until he surfaced, then used his arms again, he increased his lead twice fold.
Beside us, Mr. Brooks held his phone in his hands, checking it. “I think he’s going to break his record,” he murmured.
My stomach clenched, saying a silent prayer for him, while Mrs. Brooks squealed and squeezed my arm, and before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet, clapping and cheering, screaming with a few others in the crowd.
His lead increased further. He was a torpedo in the water, now nearly two body-lengths ahead of the other swimmers, and when he slapped the wall, he shoved his goggles up, his gaze immediately shifting needle-sharp to the massive digital clock. Then he slapped a hand in the water and pumped his fist in the air.
“He did it!” Mrs. Brooks bounced to her feet beside me. “He beat his record and the Lakeview Prep record for the 200-meter!”
As the other swimmers finished, Carson turned, his gaze automatically finding mine in the crowd, and he grinned. Around me, people cheered or filed out of the bleachers, bumping me on their way down. But I just stood there, my gaze caught on his, transfixed by the rise and fall of Carson’s chest as he caught his breath, frozen by the warmth of his smile. And all I could think was, I’m completely and irrevocably screwed.
We fell over the doorstep of the Brooks’ home laughing. I smacked Carson on the arm, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Shut up. I did not!”
“You totally did. When Olivia stopped by our table, you definitely gave her the stink eye. But that’s okay. It’s kinda hot, having you jealous.”
Glaring, I placed my hands on my hips as Carson laughed, but I couldn’t really even be mad. After the race, a bunch of kids from school stopped by Mary’s Diner for burgers and shakes, where Carson continued to surprise me. He was funny, engaging, and attentive. Even though we were with his swimming buddies, he held my hand the entire time, always making sure I was okay. Even when Olivia showed up and stopped by our table, he continued to dote on me, despite her attempts at flirting. And, okay, I’d admit it. I may have gotten a little territorial. But, really, did that girl ever quit?
“What’s so funny?”
