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“Where you going?”
“Practice.”
“You can’t swim.”
“I’m gonna watch.”
He started mouth-breathing again, and I shook my head and left, glancing across the hall to Max’s room. My stomach clenched just seeing the closed bedroom door, so I forced my gaze away and moved quietly through the house to the garage where my brother parked his black Range Rover. Max’s Harley was also inside, parked against the wall, but I avoided looking at it as I got in and started up the SUV.
There was an empty spot beside Jamie’s red Wrangler and Ryan’s black one, and I pulled in thinking how I would never pull my BMW into this spot again. The sky was just beginning to lighten as I climbed out and locked it up, pocketing the keys and tugging my Elite team hoodie around me.
I felt empty-handed without my swim bag, but even though I wasn’t cleared to swim yet, I still wanted to come. Not only did I miss the water, the routine, and even the exercise, but I needed to be here. I needed to see what the rest of Elite thought about having a gay swimmer among them.
I wasn’t a fool. Just because the handful that was at second swim the other day said they accepted it didn’t mean the rest would. Especially since Rinkin had probably been wagging his tongue every chance he got. Me being gone for the last couple days just gave him more opportunity to spin it his way.
Not that I thought Ryan and Jamie would let that happen, but this wasmyissue to deal with. Being gay wasn’t an issue for me, but it might be for other people, and I wanted to face it.
It seemed not being able to face whatever was going on between me and Max made me intolerable to every other conflict in my life. Hiding stuff, denying it, hell, even lying about it was no longer something I wanted. Enough was enough. From now on, I was going to face it all head on. Let the cards fall where they may.
If only it were that easy with Max. It never would be. Max was my ultimate weakness. The one thing I gave too many fucks about. The one thing I couldn’t lose. There was a time in my life that I would have laughed at that notion, at even the suggestion I could lose Max. The bond between me and my brothers was unshakable, even by death.
But here I was… shaking.
Coach’s whistle blasted me the second I pulled open the door to the pool. “Walsh, did you age five years overnight?” he barked. Then, “Kruger, are you drowning? I’ve seen toddlers swim better than that!”
Rippling water, gasps for breath, and the buzz of voices from the bleachers all underscored Coach’s special brand of encouragement. The guys on the bleachers saw me first, a few eyes flicking up, and then heads started swiveling in my direction.
Coach’s whistle cut out. “Sinclair! You’re late!”
“I’m not even supposed to be here.” I reminded him.
“Get your ass on the bench and watch. Say a prayer you don’t suck when you finally get back in the water.”
“Good talk, Coach,” I muttered.
“Bro!” Jamie bellowed, hauling ass out of the pool, bare feet slapping over the tile as he came toward me. Ryan followed suit, and then Kruger and Prism were doing the same.
Four dripping bodies surrounded me as they shook their heads and bodies, flinging icy-cold droplets of pool water all over me.
“What the hell, assholes?” I yelled, recoiling from the splashes.
“What was that? You’re still too dry?” Jamie asked, and then I was crushed in his massive wet wingspan, all the water from his body soaking into my clothes. “We missed you, bro!”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. He was such an idiot.
When he stepped back, Ryan tossed his towel at me, and it slapped me in the chin. It, too, was wet.
“This isn’t the circus! This isn’t swim class at the YMCA! Get your ivy-league swimming asses back in that pool and give me two extra laps!”
Kruger groaned.
“Make it three!” Coach punctuated his declaration with the shrill tune of the whistle.
I recoiled with a grimace, hoping my headache didn’t reappear.
Prism materialized in front of me, hitching his chin for me to follow him to the bleachers. I did as everyone else dove back into the pool. After reaching into his bag, he pulled out his Airpods and handed them over. “You might need these.”
Dividing a glance between what he held and his face, I said, “Aren’t those things like your prized possession?”
