“Seriously. They even want to film part of the ad here in the States, so congratulations, you’re about to fake-drink something neon while smiling through questionable flavor choices.”
I groaned. “Fantastic. I can already feel my teeth dissolving.”
Maddie smirked. “Which brings me to point three: you’re officially in rest mode. No sneaky cardio disguised as ‘light stretching.’ You need to occupy yourself, and I vote… dating.”
“Dating?”
“Yeah,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You’ve got days to be a normal human. Go for coffee with someone. Dinner. Meet a nice Ohioan who doesn’t know your backhand stats.”
I snorted, leaning back. “Maddie, you know I don’t have time for that.”
My calendar was so crammed that sometimes even calling home felt like an Olympic sport. Free time didn’texist; it had to be stolen. And if Maddie knew just who I’d been “stealing” it for lately…
Her eyes narrowed, her grin sharpening like she’d sniffed out gossip. “Ohhh. That face. That’s not aleave me alone, I’m tiredface. That’s aguilty secretface.”
I tried to play it cool, taking a deliberate sip from my water bottle. “What face?”
“The one you make when you’re pretending you’re not ridiculously pleased about… something. Or someone.” Maddie tilted her head, intrigued, like she was piecing together a puzzle I hadn’t meant to leave out. “So? Who’s got you looking like that?”
“It’s just my normal face.”
She scoffed. “Liv, yournormalface is ‘please don’t talk to me until I’ve had a physio appointment.’” She gestured broadly at my very much not-normal expression.
I felt heat flicker up my neck. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Absolutely.” She crossed her arms. “Start talking.”
“It’s just… I’ve got lunch planned with Alex Cadiz.”
Her eyes practically sparkled, like she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest gossip of the year. “Ooooh, nowthat’sinteresting,” she teased, leaning in as if I’d just handed her front-row tickets to a scandal.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just lunch, Maddie. We had this bet, and since I retired, she won. Her condition is that I have to treat her to lunch.”
Her grin widened, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “Uh-huh. ‘Just lunch.’ Right. You do realize how date-coded that sounds, yeah?”
“Don’t start Maddie.”
She hugged a pillow to her chest like I’d just confessed to a forbidden romance. “You have half the tour,celebrities, and several Olympians sliding into your DMs. Don’t even get me started on the verified ones.”
Heat crept into my cheeks before I could stop it. “That’s different. That’s just people being… people on the internet.”
She arched a brow, all-knowing and far too entertained. “Right. And Alex Cadiz asking you to lunch is also ‘just people being people’? Liv, come on.”
“Look, Alex just picked lunch because she doesn’t have that many people she actually talks to on tour, okay? She’s… Alex. She keeps to herself. And she’s trying, you know? She just wants to be friends.”
Maddie snorted. “Friends.”
“I’m serious,” I insisted, even though my voice sounded a shade too defensive. “And besides, who am I to say no to lunch with a Cadiz? Anyone would fight for that lunch.”
Maddie held up her hands in surrender, lips twitching. “Okay, okay, fine, you’ve got a point.” She leaned back against the sofa, but the smirk never left her face. “But... I still expect a full report after this little… lunch.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “You know. The one that’s absolutely not a date.”
I shot her a flat look. “It’s not.”
“Mm-hm. Totally,” she said, nodding far too aggressively. “Just two incredibly attractive athletes sharing a meal, probably sitting way too close, pretending the air isn’t weirdly charged. Super platonic.”
I threw a cushion at her. “Shut up.”
She only laughed, catching it with one hand. “I’m just saying, if you come back looking like that again, don’t expect me not to ask questions.”
