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“Really?” I questioned, doubt lacing my tone.
“No,” Wes mused, the dimple in his chin indenting.
I smiled back.
“Come on,” he said, starting toward the door.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I swim?”
Wes swung around. “You’re Elite now. One of us.”
My hand tightened on the strap of my bag. A host of emotions ghosted through me, but I pushed them all away.
“I can’t believe Win didn’t tell me you were coming.” Wes went on, turning back to the door. “Or that you were a swimmer!”
My feet stuttered a bit.Win didn’t tell him I’m a swimmer?“Uh, he didn’t know.”
The door in his hand, Wes glanced over his shoulder, surprise making his eyes wide. “That you are a swimmer or you were coming?”
Swallowing, I shook my head. “The second one. It was a kinda last-minute thing.”
“Bros!” A loud voice echoed through the building, swirling around us with the scent of chlorine as we stepped inside.
“Bro!” Wes called back. Glancing at me, he said, “Well, Win will be excited to see you.”
Maybe that was where the anticipation came in, with the nerves. Because I didn’t know how Win would react.
“You think?” I heard myself asking, exposing my self-doubt and making me wish I could recall those words.
“For sure. Max doesn’t call him our sun for nothing.”
“Max, your other brother.” I recalled.
A weird vibe rolled around Wes. It was almost stifling for a moment, and it made me feel guilty for reasons I didn’t understand.
“Ah, yeah,” Wes murmured, and then we were poolside with Jamie and Ryan standing close by, both already dressed in tiny Speedos.
“Lars, right? Or do you prefer Eriksson?” Ryan asked, holding out his hand for me to shake. “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk this morning. Coach rode our asses hard.”
Jamie smacked Ryan on his bare chest. “Bro. Watch your mouth.” Then the wide-shouldered butterfly swimmer turned to me. “We don’t mince words around here. No offense.”
I frowned, searching my brain for the meaning of that particular phrase. “Mince words?” I repeated, trying to understand.
Ryan chuckled. “We cuss a lot.”
“Oh,” I said, realizing. Smiling a little, I replied, “We cuss in Sweden too.”
“Whew!” Jamie blew out. “Bro, thank God, ‘cause that was about to get hella uncomfortable.”
“Hella.” I agreed.
They all talked like Win. Wordy, ridiculous, and with great enthusiasm. I thought it was just him, but it seemed to be the American way.
But not one of them makes you feel like Win.
Can you hear that sound? It’s me ignoring my own thoughts.
“All right then, hit me.” Jamie gestured to me.
