Maybe Cecilia’s right—maybe it’s time I stop pushing people away.
CHAPTER 92
CECILIA
Chlorine clings to the humid air as I step up to the edge of the pool. The familiar sound of splashing and laughter echoes off the walls—my team getting ready for practice. I pull my swim cap down over my hair, adjusting it as I glance around the room.
Willow flashes me a wave from across the pool. I wave back, smiling despite the brief flash of nerves. After that date with her brother Wyatt, I’d been half-expecting things to be awkward between us. I mean, it was fine, but no sparks. And then things got weird when Gabriel found out about it and they had their whole guy confrontation thing that she had a front row seat to. But, so far, she hasn’t brought it up, and neither have I.
One less thing for me to worry about at least.
“Hey,” Adriana’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see her beside me, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You ready to get your ass kicked today?”
I laugh, tugging my goggles over my eyes. “It won’t be that bad.”
“Freestyle drills. All. Day,” she groans dramatically, shaking her head like it’s the worst thing in the world, but there’s aglimmer of excitement in her dark eyes. Adriana thrives on the challenge.
I groan, but it’s more out of habit than anything. The drills? I can handle them. Hell, I need them today. With everything going on—school, Gabriel, and my crazy schedule—swimming is the only place where I can shut my brain off and justbe.
I was nervous about coming back here at first. I worried the pool would haunt me. That being here would bring all of the awful memories rushing back. But Austin Holt has taken enough from me. I refuse to lethimsteal this, too. Therapy helped with that, as much as I hate admitting it.
My therapist says trauma doesn’t own spaces—we do. She’s taught me how to take it back. To reclaim my peace. Maybe that’s why I don’t freak out anymore when unfamiliar men approach me. I don’t like it, don’t get me wrong. My heart still races. I still get that uncomfortable itch beneath my skin. But there’s no longer this debilitating panic. No suffocating weight.
Coach Cho’s sharp voice cuts through the noise, calling us to attention. “Alright, ladies! Show me clean strokes and focus on your form. No lazy arms today!”
Adriana rolls her eyes as we slip into the water, the cool rush instantly settling something inside of me. The world muffles as I submerge myself, leaving behind all the chaos of these past weeks.
The pool is one of the few places where everything else melts away—the noise, the stress, all the swirling thoughts about Austin’s sentencing. I just got word it’s been scheduled for first thing Monday morning. One week away.
But right now, all I need to think about is me, the water, and the rhythm of my body cutting through it.
I push off the wall and focus on my breathing—two strokes, breathe, two strokes, breathe.
As we reach the wall, Adriana and I pop up at the same time, both panting slightly. “So,” she says, already adjusting her cap for the next lap, “how’s Gabriel?”
I smile, pushing my goggles up to my forehead. “Slammed with practice and training and everything,” I sigh. “So busy, like me.”
“That’s what happens when you date a soccer player.” She sticks her tongue out playfully, adjusting her goggles. “So unreliable.”
I shoot her a pointed look, smirking. “Right. Because hockey players are so different?”
She grins. “Hockey players do appear to be the superior athletes.”
“Oh really?” I say, “Do elaborate.”
“What can I say,” she tells me. “They answer when you call. They respond to your texts. They go out of their way to spend time with you. A girl like me could get used to it.”
A laugh slips out of me. “Please tell me that is not where the bar’s been set?”
“Definitely not. But you know what they say. Strong communication is the cornerstone for any good relationship.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “So it’s turning into a relationship, hmm? Sounds like Kenji might be a keeper.”
She shrugs, trying to play it cool. “We’ll see.” But the soft curve of her lips gives her away.
“I’m happy for you,” I tell her. “You deserve someone good in your life. And since I’m your best friend and therefore need to get to know any guy who might have an actual chance of sticking around, you should bring him with you when you come over for the barbeque at Gabriel’s on Friday.”
“Ladies! Get moving.” Coach Cho’s voice slices through our conversation.
