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My eyes fell closed for long seconds before I dragged them open and looked to the side.
Win was right there, aviators tucked into the neck of his polo, arm extended with a white paper cup in his hand.
“Is that coffee?” I asked.
“Don’t you usually drink one before every meet?”
“You remembered.”
“I wouldn’t forget.”
My heart turned heavy, sagging beneath my ribs as I reached for the coffee he offered. I didn’t even have to ask where he got it. If it was safe to drink. If he was handing it to me, then it was okay.
Our fingers brushed, and awareness crackled around us, thickening the air as my body tingled. Heat from the cup seeped into my palm, relaxing the worst edge of my nerves. The scent of coffee swirled beneath my nose as I lifted it to my lips, taking a sip.
He watched me, hazel stare darkening as the liquid slid down my throat and I took another.
“You didn’t ask.” His voice was quiet, yet it was literally all I could hear.
“Ask what?”
“If I made sure it was safe.”
“I trust you,” I answered, the words coming out before I could even think them.
Our eyes met and held, and I felt like I was standing in quicksand, slowly sinking in his enigmatic stare.
I knew there was activity around us. Loud, boisterous athletes and the buzz of competition in the atmosphere. I heard none of it. Felt only the touch of Win’s stare, the lingering tingle from the brief brush of our hand.
For a moment he was a weighted blanket, muffling everything else including my own anxiety.
“You’re nervous.” He said after a minute, his voice foreign to my ears.
Of course, he would see it. Feel it. Sense it. A blanket always felt the cold it was supposed to chase away.
“Maybe a little.” I agreed, denying would only be a waste of air.
“You’re a good swimmer, Lars.” He took a step forward, increasing the intimacy of this moment. Of his words. “Don’t swim for the team today. Don’t swim for anyone but you.”
“Not even you?”
“I’ll be here, watching. Holding my thumb for you.”
FYI: holding one’s thumb is the Swedish equivalent of telling someone you are crossing your fingers for them.
I didn’t dare think about this conversation because the second I did, it would have to change. Instead, I breathed it in. I just let myself feel.
“Thank you,” I whispered. No, it was more like an echo.
And for the first time all day, everything inside me calmed.
19
Win
I couldn’t resist.
I wanted to be strong, but I was so very weak. Weak to his presence, to the nerves shimmering in the air around him. It was like he cast a spell on me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was standing in his orbit, handing him a coffee, and whispering promises of support.
