CHAPTER NINE
I leave our little closet space much less sure of myself than Oliver. Athletes are notorious for flings. I’ve heard the stories. Seasoned PR reps have spent this entire time swapping stories of shit they’ve done themselves or things they caught others doing. A burlesque house sees less action than some of these walls. I smooth out the bottom of my committee issued polo shirt,pretending there’s some kind of lint at the bottom. Thankfully, the hallway is empty of people when I peek my head out the supply room door. Not many have a reason to be in this area.
I can’t believe I had sex with Oliver…in a supply closet. Here I worked hard over the last few weeks to prove myself a valuable member of this team and stay professional through all the crap they put me through.What will Oliver think of me now after I gave in so easily? I fidget with the bottom of my shirt, making sure all the imaginary lint is cleared off, and don’t realize Oliver is the hallway until he stops my roaming hand, blocking me up against the wall.
“Don’t go weird on me now. I just won you over,” he whispers in my ear even though we’re alone in the hallway.
“Weird?” I ask.
“I can see thewheels turning as you overthink this. Don’t. I’m going to go win a gold and then you and I will talk about this. And we’ll do that again, in celebration.”
The idea alone makes my body all tingly in places it shouldn’t be. I must get a grip.
My slight smile must give my answer away. “See? You like the plan. And, Kenny, I will do all that and more for you, but first I have a race to win.”
Thistime I do laugh. “You have to win the gold first, huh?”
“First I have to do this interview, then win the gold, then fuck you. Let’s get this started.”
“Let’s get ‘er done.” I sound a little too much like Larry the Cable Guy for my own preferences, but it obviously doesn’t bother Oliver as he leans in and kisses me.
When he pulls away and walks back to the main hallway, I follow, the click ofmy heels echoing off the walls. I can’t believe I had sex with a pro athlete in the supply closet at the Winter Games. And I don’t even feel bad about it. He’s sweet and kind and playful. Doesn’t take himself too seriously compared to a lot of other athletes. Given a bit of time, Oliver could be the perfect guy. And even though it goes against everything I’ve been telling myself since my first nighthere, I want to get to know him better.
Four weeks of working slightly side by side is not enough time to get to know someone, but it’s also been a high-pressure situation where most people are at their worst. If this is how Oliver performs in a high-stress situation, he must be even more laid back normally. Regardless of what Asbell or anyone else says about a relationship, I want to find out.
I’ve never been one for love at first sight. I didn’t believe it was possible, but from the way my heart taps out an erratic rhythm in my chest and my ongoing desire to say forget it and go back to one of our rooms, I think Oliver might be a long-term post Winter Games scenario. Rumor is they do happen from time to time. We can make it work.
Oliver stops walking outside the door labeled Makeupand doesn’t make a single joke about having to dress up like a girl or some other reference to wearing makeup like every other guy has since this circus started even though they’ve been doing this for years. Like maybe if they crack a sexist joke it makes them manlier when the technician applies their foundation. Oliver’s lack of comment only makes me like him more.
He turns back before entering.“You’ll go with me to the interview, right?”
I tap on the wall twice. “Yup. Asbell’s orders. I’m not allowed to leave your side.”
“If that man only knew.” He laughs before opening the door.
This time I don’t join in with him. After Oliver’s stunt in the cafeteria, of course Asbell knows or thinks he knows.
“Why don’t you come in and watch me get made up.”
That sounds like a terribly boringidea.
Plus, we’re in a concrete building. Going into a room kills my signal.
And plus also I could use a few Oliver-free minutes to digest what exactly we just did.
“You go. I’ll stay here and answer some emails.” Talk myself down from having a fan girl moment and going all weirdo stalker girlfriend on him. We only had sex. It’s not like he offered marriage. I have to get control of thecrazy hormones coursing through me.
“Have it your way.” He kisses me quickly on the cheek so no one sees and then slips into the room.
It doesn’t take as long to prep for the guys as it does the girls, and he only has a few minutes until we’re needed for the one-to-one interview. Even still I expect him to be gone a good ten minutes. It should give me time to get a few emails taken care of.There are chairs closer to the main lobby where most family and other personnel watch the games, but I don’t want to leave Oliver. I’m sure he’d find me before leaving for his interview, but I don’t want to take the chance. Plus, I did say I’d stay right here. I plan to keep my word.
I contemplate sitting on the floor to save my feet in these high heels, but a quick glance down shows me I shouldn’thave looked down. No one has run a vacuum over these floors since we started. After two weeks of heavy foot traffic, the floor sports dark brown wet-looking spots. They’re splattered across the space. Not daring enough to risk it, I resign myself to leaning against the wall and answering emails as I teeter back and forth on my heels.
A few minutes in and I’m making good progress. Not on the emails.I gave up on them a minute in. I can’t focus on work. I have, however, had two Oliver-filled fantasies while he’s been gone. I hope he meant the things he said about wanting a relationship after this.
I feel his presence before I noticed who it is. Isaac, all six feet of him, strolls down the hallway in a carefree manner like he has nothing bad going on at all. He’s not facing committee reviewonce he lands back in the states.
I wonder what it’s like to go through life so delusional?
