And then the buzzer rang out loudly as I sprang into action.
The water swallowed me whole. For an instant, silence. I streamlined, doing powerful dolphin kicks until I broke out of the water to take my first butterfly stroke. My body surged forward on instinct, every stroke slicing clean, every kick driving me farther. I didn’t think about my father or my past or even the results board waiting at the finish. I just swam.
Stroke, stroke. Breathe. Stroke, stroke. Breathe.
The world narrowed to rhythm and motion, to the simple joy of feeling my body do what it was born to do.
I couldn’t make out the muffled cheers through the water, but I imagined Ridge yelling for form, Ledger shouting something indistinguishable and probably profane in encouragement, and Livvi’s voice a clear bright thread in the tangle. Those thoughts propelled me as much as my legs did. A memory of the night Livvi showed up on my doorstep with a fish, a small blue tang to encourage me to not give up, to just keep swimming. It might have been a small gesture to her, but it had meant more to me than she would probably ever know.
When I hit the wall, gasping, the world roared back to life.
I lifted my head, raising my goggles to rest on my forehead, and turned to the scoreboard.
Second.
Not first. Not the top of the podium. But second in the Trials. Enough to secure my place. Enough to prove what I’d been desperate to believe—I wasn’t done.
My chest heaved with more than exertion. Relief. Gratitude. Vindication.
When I climbed out, Ridge and Ledger were already on their feet, fists in the air. Cali was bouncing up and down like she was the one who’d just finished the race. Roxie had tears streaming down her cheeks, mascara running, not caring a bit.
And Livvi—Livvi was smiling at me like I’d just given her the moon. Her face was wet with tears butradiant, unselfconscious in a way that made me want to protect that smile forever.
Later, after the onslaught of reporters and congratulatory backslaps, I found her waiting by the side hallway that led to the locker rooms. The crowds had thinned, the air quieter now, the echo of my footsteps the only sound until her soft voice joined it.
“You did it.”
I stopped a few feet from her, still damp, my hair a mess, adrenaline humming under my skin. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
She shook her head, eyes shimmering. “Not just the race. You proved it to yourself. That you’re still everything you thought you’d lost.”
Her words cracked something open in me. All the fear, all the doubt, all the years of silence with my dad and the weight of expectation. She saw me. I think she always had.
I closed the distance between us slowly, like one wrong move might break the spell. “Livvi, I didn’t care if I finished first or last. Standing on that block, knowing you were here … I already felt like I’d won.”
Her breath hitched. “Don’t make me cry again. I already look like a raccoon.”
I laughed, the sound raw. “You’re beautiful. Always.”
And it was true. Not only was she beautiful, but I really had already felt like a winner knowing she was here for me, that she was mine. My goal had been to make it onto the team, and I’d done that. Whatever came next would be a bonus, an adventure I wouldn’t take for granted, but one that still didn’t compare to having Livvi by my side. I’d found a new purpose, a new happiness that I never wanted to lose. I had someone who saw all of me—Talon the swimmer, Talon the writer, Talon the man who still had dreams left to chase.
She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to lose it, then stepped closer until her hand brushed mine. “Talon …”
I turned my hand, lacing our fingers. “You and me. That’s what I truly want, what makes me truly happy.” I pulled her closer to me, bringing our joined hands between us. “Against the odds, we found each other twice. Once behind screens and once face-to-face. Call it fate or destiny, but I was meant to be yours, and you were meant to be mine. I want this. I want us.”
Tears fell freely down her cheeks now, but her smile was radiant. “I want us too.”
And then she was in my arms, the rest of the world falling away. I kissed her with everything I’d held back—months of longing, of almosts, of words typed but never spoken. Her arms wound tight around my neck, her lips answering mine with equal fervor. This kiss held more than the one we’d shared outside the café. This kiss spoke of our past, our present, and our future. It was usintertwining our lives, our hearts. It was one of commitment and choice.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathless, she whispered against my mouth, “So this is what it feels like to win.”
I pressed my forehead to hers, grinning. “No, this is what it feels like to live.”
She smiled up at me, and I couldn’t stop myself from dipping my head to claim her lips again.
When it came to victories, winning Livvi was the sweetest win of all.
CHAPTER 26
