Jogging back and forth across the floor, I accelerate to sprints until my legs are warm and ready, then make a beeline for the balance beam.
I keep it simple at first, pushing up to a handstand, swinging down to straddle the beam and then back to the handstand before lowering my legs into a split and holding. I stand and bend into a back walkover before using my momentum to kick a leg out and flip into a back layout step-out, landing solidly on the beam, one foot then the other. Behind me the door squeaks open and then clicks shut again, but I ignore it. It’s probably just Emma anyway.
I’m not really warmed up enough for a full dismount, but a roundoff into a double twist feels sweet and easy as I land.
“That was nice.”
Okay, not Emma, then.
Leo is off to the side, hands in the pockets of his shorts, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. He might look cool and casual, but his eyes are telling a different story, burning into mine even from yards away. That strange aloofness from back at the house is gone. This is the boy I remember from the hotel and the day I arrived in Coronado.
He steps closer slowly, too slowly. I take a step toward him and then another, closing the gap.
“You’re an incredible gymnast, you know that?”
“Hmm.” I hope he understands that compliments aren’t what I want right now, not when he’s so close and I feel his heart thundering in his chest and his breath is warm against my cheek as he leans down.
He brushes his lips along my jawline, his arms gathering me close. He leans in but stops short of a kiss, his breath ghosting against my lips. He doesn’t close the distance. I’m about to turn my head to meet his mouth with mine when his voice rumbles out softly, “Audrey, we … can’t.”
My stomach drops and then twists in on itself, and raging insecurity comes flying to the surface. Maybe I’d gotten it all wrong. Maybe I’d misinterpreted it all. I pull away. “But I thought … wait, is that why you were acting weird before at the house? Do you not want—”
“No!” he nearly yells, his eyes wide with panic. “I mean, yes. I do want. Obviously. I don’t know if you get just how much I want, but when my mom agreed to coach you, she pointed out that maybe it wouldn’t be such a great idea if we were … if we did this.” He motions at the space between us, at the invisible but palpable something that sets my skin aflame whenever he’s near me.
Duh, Audrey. Of course this can’t be a thing. It’s a massive conflict of interest. You’re such a dumbass. And that Janet thought of it before you, well, that’s just super embarrassing too.
“I feel like such an idiot. God, and your mom had to point it out like … sheknew.”
“I wasn’t exactly subtle about it,” he confesses. “She wasn’t lying before. I really haven’t shut up about you since we got back.”
“That’s not helping.”
Leo lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, sorry. It’s … This really sucks. I don’t want to stay away from you, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I have to do.”
“You’re right.”
We stand in silence, letting time tick away like it might solve the problem for us. Eventually, it will, I guess, but as close as the Olympics felt just a few minutes ago, now they seem like eons away.
“She likes you, you know,” he says finally.
“Your mom?” I hadn’t gotten a feeling one way or another from her, but I’m pretty sure contradicting her during training and then walking out on the meal she’d planned for us didn’t endear me to her at all.
“She thinks you’re a throwback, old-school.”
“In gymnastics speak, that means maybe I’d have been good enough twenty years ago, but not now.”
“Nah,” he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You don’t know my mom. It’s a compliment. She likes you.”
“Yeah?” I may not agree with her coaching methods, but having an Olympic medalist like me is pretty cool.
“Uh, could you not do that?” He suddenly looks super uncomfortable, fidgeting back and forth on his feet.
“Do what?”
“Look totally turned on by the idea that my mom likes you,” he says, his nose wrinkling.
“Wow, are you jealous?” I ask, laughing. He rolls his eyes, and I laugh harder.
“Jealous?” he asks. “Of my mom, no, but of your dreams, maybe a little? Right now they’re way more important than me, and I’d never forgive myself if I stood in your way.”
