“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” he says, then holds out a hand to me. His brows tilt in disapproval, but his smile is friendly. He looks like a man who has seen it all – including women sneaking into his locker room.
“Hi.” I reach out to take his hand. “Hannah Bennett-Walsh.”
34
TRAVIS
I wave to Hannah from across the gym. She and Kinsley are warming up near the beam. She waves back and then falls into another stretch.
“I feel like I might puke,” I tell Wren. We traveled to Kentucky for the Winter Classic this weekend to watch Hannah compete. It’s safe to say I’m more nervous than her.
Wren snorts a laugh. “Chill. She’s going to be great.”
“No, no. I know. It’s just…” My leg bounces on the bleacher in front of me. “I’m not good at sitting and watching. I need to do something.”
“I get it.” Wren looks up from her phone. “I used to hate watching her compete because I was so nervous. I’d be squeezing my eyes shut through half her routines. And don’t even get me started on the times I did force myself to watch and then she got hurt or fell or something…so traumatic.” She shudders.
“Okay. That’s not helping.” Fresh panic spreads through me. I’m coiled up so tight, everything from my back to my jaw hurts from clenching.
Wren’s quiet laughter trails off, and she pats me softly on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
Hannah starts on floor. She gets set in her opening pose and the music begins. I visited her at the gym a couple weeks ago, and she ran through it for me, but it’s different watching her in competition mode. Her blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she wears a teal and pink leotard that shows off her lean, badass muscles. She looks absolutely fierce.
I hold my breath as she prepares for her first tumbling pass.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I say as she executes each element to perfection. She finishes with a back tuck, landing flawlessly. Fuck yes. As the seconds tick by, she continues, looking absolutely unstoppable. The energy around us is electric.
Wren grabs a hold of my forearm and squeezes as Hannah goes into her final tumbling pass. So much for little sister being chill. But our combined anxiety is completely unwarranted because Hannah finishes, and I’m not a judge, but it was a perfect fucking ten in my book.
I stand and lift both hands over my head. “Woo! Yeah, baby! Woo!”
I get a few amused looks from people around us, but I’m only concerned with one person, and she’s smiling back at me.
Her score comes in at 13.25. It puts her in first, but there are several more gymnasts to go.
She does beam next, continuing to absolutely kill it, and earning a 13.6.
Next up, Hannah is on vault. It’s the most nervous she’s looked today.
Sometimes late at night when neither of us can sleep, she’ll talk through issues she’s having on different skills, so even though I haven’t seen all her routines, I know them by heart, and I know this one has given her the most trouble. She steps to the end of the runway and closes her eyes.
She told me once that she visualizes executing her routines perfectly before she does them, and I know that’s what she’sdoing now. I close my eyes and picture her standing on the mat, hands raised, smile wide—the happy, content look of a woman who nailed it. And then I picture her running over to me so I can tell her how proud I am of her. How much I love her.
I’ve visualized a lot of things with her, things I never thought possible. Never could have even imagined. Love. Family. Happiness. All because of her.
When I open my eyes, she’s sprinting down the runway. Wren and I hold on to each other as Hannah flies through the air, off the vault, and twists her body around before miraculously landing on the other side with only the slightest hop.
I hear Wren let out an audible breath.
“I thought you were used to it?” I arch a brow.
She shrugs and offers me a sheepish smile. “I lied. It’s still terrifying.”
We cheer as her scores come in. 14.150 for vault.
“That puts her at the top of the leaderboard.” Wren points to where the scores are updating on a jumbo screen in front of us. Bennett-Walsh moves from second to first. I’m never going to get tired of seeing our name. It feels a little like starting over, making our own family.
It’s a little bit of a wait before Hannah does her final event: bars. It’s her favorite and best event, but I’ve only ever seen her do it on video. Seeing it in person doesn’t compare.
