That had my fingers freezing as I stared at the words he’d sent.Maybe one day we’ll see if I’m brave enough in person.
The thought had butterflies swarming around in mystomach in a way I wasn’t expecting. Brave enough … he wanted to meet me.Me.Not just the version I showed online, not just the words I typed—but the real person. The idea made my body tighten with nervous excitement.
At the same time, the thought was thrilling. Scary, yes—but thrilling. There was a strange comfort in the fact that he wanted to take this beyond the screen, that he wanted to see the person behind the words.
But it was way too soon for that. Besides, I didn’t even know where he lived. Not like I was going to travel somewhere to see him.
Except there really was something about him that drew me in. Almost the exact same way that Talon lured me in.
Two very different men, two very different worlds, but both eliciting the same nervous anticipation and fluttering warmth—Talon with his piercing gaze that saw past the walls I’d built, andTheWriteGuywith words that made me feel safe enough to let myself be heard.
Each of them lingered in my thoughts like a flicker of an ember I couldn’t put out, leaving me torn and restless long into the night.
CHAPTER 11
TALON
My arms and legs throbbed by the time I hit the wall, every muscle screaming like they wanted me to quit. But I wouldn’t. Not with Coach Saunders standing at the edge of the pool, stopwatch in hand, her sharp eyes cutting into every stroke I took.
I yanked my goggles up and sucked in air, leaning against the tiled edge as the water dripped down my face. For a few seconds, I just stayed there, chest heaving, pretending the ache in my body was the only thing weighing me down.
Pulling myself up and out of the pool, I headed into the locker room, where I toweled off and checked my phone. Three missed calls lit up the screen.
Dad.
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t answered the last seven calls either. And the voicemails … Gosh, there had to be at least twenty of them stacked up by now. I didn’t even need to listen to know how they’d sound. Him asking why I wasn’t calling back. Him reminding me of everything I wasn’t doing right. Him making sure I knew that no matter how many races I won, it would never be important.
I dropped the phone face down on the bench, like that would silence the guilt clawing at me. For a second, I thought about calling him back. Just to get it over with. But my hands balled into tight fists at the thought, and I shoved the phone in my bag instead. Out of sight, out of mind.
At least until the next time he called.
As I walked out, Coach Saunders blocked my exit like she’d been waiting for me.
“Good work today, Talon,” she said. “You’re right there. I can feel it. Austin is your shot—this is the meet where you become the guy to beat, the swimmer everyone is going to be talking about.”
Austin. Just the word made my pulse spike. The Pro Swim Classic wasn’t some small meet where the stands were half empty and the competition was familiar. This was a national stage—Olympians, world-record holders, and the best swimmers in the country converging in one pool. It was the kind of meet where your name got mentioned on broadcasts, where scouts and sponsors paid attention, where one good swim could change the trajectory of your career. Bigger. Faster competition. More eyes on the deck. And more pressure than ever to prove I belonged there.
She smiled, her voice full of certainty. I wished I felt half the confidence she did.
I nodded anyway, because that’s what she wanted from me. “Yeah. Austin.”
“You’ve been building for this. Trust your training. You’ll get it.” She clapped me on the shoulder, like it was that simple.
But as I left the pool, my gut twisted tighter.
On paper, I was ready. The work was there. The times were close. But I knew myself too well. One slip, one mental crack, and everything could unravel. And the only thing worse than missing the time would be my dad’s voice on the other end of the line, telling me he knew it had all been a waste of time.
My head was buzzing, and thankfully my growling stomach broke through the noise. I needed food, and the closest thing was the Orange Blossoms Café, which was in walking distance. Once I’d gotten some food in me, then I could stress about my life.
Ten minutes later, I pushed open the door to the café, the place smelling like espresso and sandwiches. I scanned the room, looking for an open table?—
—and stopped short when I saw her.
Livvi.
Was it a coincidence that I was running into her here again? Or had I been so into my own world, my own thoughts, that I hadn’t noticed her before?
I was definitely noticing her now. It had only been a few days since we’d hung out at the bar, but somehow she had gotten even more beautiful since then.
