I groaned. “He’s going to hate it when his neighbor practices taekwondo at 6 a.m.”
Dad chuckled, then added, “By the way, me and your mom will stay at the hotel. She’s probably with Archer right now. And Bobby’s around too, already making friends like it’s summer camp.”
“Of course he is,” I muttered.
Dad’s hand landed gently on my shoulder this time, steady rather than pushy. “Listen, Alex. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, you’ve already made it. Just enjoy being here. Don’t think about pleasing people, just think about racing free.”
“Easier said than done. You’ve seen me, I overthink tying my shoelaces.”
“Sure, but you don’t overthink when Olivia’s around. Funny how that works.” He grinned.
“Dad…” I groaned, heat climbing my neck.
He only shrugged, smug. “Just saying. Maybe she’s your shortcut to racing free.”
I had no comeback for that, I let the silence settle between us. Then curiosity gnawed at me. “Tell me this. Back in your day, how did you get Mom? Because I know it wasn’t just your charming personality and that tragic haircut from the archives.”
He chuckled.
“I’m serious!” I jabbed a finger at him. “You two met during the Olympics, right? Same kind of chaos. So how’d you pull it off?”
His face softened in a way I wasn’t used to. “We met at the opening night. Parade of nations. Afterward, some of us went out for dinner with different athletes from different countries and she was there. Smart, funny, stubborn. I was gone in one night.”
He paused, almost embarrassed, then grinned. “So I started slipping her letters. Passed them through her teammates, left them in her locker. Little notes, nothing flashy. Just… letting her know I was there.”
“You were running a full-on secret pen pal operation in the middle of the Olympics?”
He smirked. “And one night she mentioned she missed the stars, said the city lights drowned them out, and it made her homesick. So I snuck out of the Village and sprinted to where hotel she stayed, got a bellboy on my side, even slipped the manager a few bills. We set up a table on the rooftop. Just the two of us, hot chocolate in paper cups, the whole skyline laid out, and above it… every star she thought she’d lost. I told her I’d spend the rest of my life making sure she never felt that far from home again.”
I stared at him, slack-jawed. “…That’s not a courtship story Dad, that’s a blockbuster. You bribed a hotel manager for love? That’s insane. And weirdly impressive.”
He grinned. “Worth every centavo.”
I slumped back, muttering, “You are running Olympic heists for romance, and I can’t even get Olivia to unblock me.”
“Then maybe it’s time you stop trying to hack your way in and do it properly. Court her. Show her you’re serious. Not just apologies or quick fixes, show a real gestures. Real patience.”
I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. “You offering to be my wingman now?”
He smirked. “Worked once before. I could probably manage again.”
The thought of Dad plotting with me to win Olivia back was both mortifying and… maybe exactly what I needed.
OLIVIA
France. Finally. The Olympic car picked us up straight from the airport, and by the time we hit the hotel I already knew I’d made the right call and not stay in the Olympic Village. I needed quiet, blackout curtains and real rest. The Village had its charm, yes but it also had a thousand athletes buzzing on nerves and energy drinks. Not exactly ideal for sleep.
Still, accreditation around my neck meant I could come and go from Team GB’s building whenever I wanted. Meals, lounges, everything was open to me. But my nights? They’d be here. Away from the noise.
And I wasn’t alone. I flew Dad, Nan and Bianca out with me, tucked them into the same hotel so we could move through this madness together. It felt right having them near.
It’s strange, though. First time being an Olympian, and part of me expected the Village to feel like a dream I’d been chasing since I was little. The kind of thing you only ever see through a screen and now I was here, part of it.
Opening night came fast. Team GB in full kit, kitted out in matching blazers and trainers, all herded like a school trip, but one with the weight of a nation strapped to it. We gathered in the staging area with athletes from everycorner of the world, flags draped around shoulders, cameras flashing, everyone trading pins and snapping photos like it was summer camp with higher stakes.
I’d seen this a thousand times on TV, thought I knew how it would feel. But nothing prepares you for the sound of eighty thousand people cheering while you step onto that track. My heart thumped so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. Bianca was right, I was combusting. But in the best way.
And then like I’d accidentally willed it into existence, my eyes found Alex in the Philippine delegation, flag colors splashed across her kit. God, she looked good. Too good.
