Eldridge beside him. "Whatever you two did at fifteen hundred—do that Sunday."
The launch buzzed away back to dock.
Sunday. The invitational. It was official—we were in.
My body was still buzzing and still vibrating with what just happened. With rowing with Alex like that.
We started the paddle back to the dock.
"That was..." Alex started from behind me.
"Yeah, next level."
Silence for three strokes. Just our blades dipping in and out. Cool air on flushed skin.
"I've never felt anything like that," he said.
Me neither.
I didn't say it out loud. Just kept paddling. Trying to get my breathing under control. Trying to ignore the fact that my body was still responding—blood hot, skin buzzing, everything below my waist a problem—and we were about to dock in front of forty people.
Think about something else. Anything else.
Cold water. The ache in my quads. The blister forming on my left palm where the tape had slipped.
Didn't help.
The Riverside dock was chaos.
I could hear it before we reached it—voices carrying across the water, the hollow thud of guys stomping on the wooden planks. Tyler was right at the edge, both hands cupped around his mouth, legs planted wide like he was calling a damn football game.
"Moore power!" His voice cracked across the river. "Moore power!"
Jace stood next to him, arms crossed, grinning that rare grin he only gave when one of ours did something worth grinning about.
Other Riverside guys picked it up. The chant bouncing between them, getting louder with each rep.
"Moore power! Moore power!"
The sound hit my chest like a drumbeat. I couldn't help the grin that split across my face—stupid, wide, the kind I couldn't fake. Guys were slapping the dock with open palms, the woodrattling under their hands. Someone let out a whistle that cut through everything.
This. This was what it felt like to have people in your corner.
Our hull glided into the dock bumpers with a soft thunk.
Tyler was right at the edge, bouncing on his toes like he couldn't contain himself. Jace behind him, arms crossed, but the corner of his mouth was doing that thing it did when he was impressed and didn't want to show it.
"Dude." Tyler grabbed the bow as we came in. "What the hell was that? You guys had a full length by the 1500"
"Length and a half," Jace corrected.
I climbed out first. Legs shaking—not from nerves, from the effort. Alex followed me.
"That move at the last five hundred." Tyler was still going, talking with his whole body. "Your whole boat lifted."
"We fly." Alex said from behind.
A few of the other Riverside guys crowded closer. Hands clapping our shoulders. The noise of it—laughter, voices overlapping, the hollow thud of palms on the dock planks—wrapped around me like something warm.
