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“But I’m still not asking Coach Ronan if he has a tampon.”

Ronan’s face turns bright red at the out-of-nowhere statement, but clears his throat. “They’re always in my bag.”

“Really?” Even that surprises me. I was about to tell her where she could find them in our office.

“Yeah, of course,” he replies. “Being a coach means showing up for my entire team, no matter what.”

A car horn blares as it pulls into the parking lot. Emmie barely glances at it before standing and darting toward it. She waves over her shoulder with a shout that she will see us tomorrow.

I lean into Ronan’s side. “You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”

He kisses the top of my head. “It’s nice to be reminded. I looked at what you brought over when you stayed; my bathroom is stocked, by the way. Pain relief supplies, too.”

I squint up at him. “Are you sure you don’t have a little sister hiding somewhere?”

“My parents hated me. Why would they have another?”

It’s so easy for him to make light of the situation, and I have to respect that, but with each self-deprecating joke, I need to remind him of how loved he is. I kiss his shoulder, looking up at him through my lashes. “If anyone ever calls you a jerk again, they’ll have me to answer to.”

“Oh, thank god. I was getting so tired of defending myself. I’ve been waiting for a badass woman to come into my life to do it for me.”

“You joke, but I know there’s a part of you that feels that way.”

He kisses me, laughing against my lips. “We’re the kind of couple that fights for each other.”

Yes, we are. Him and me against the world. Plus, a family that we sort of adopted tagging along. Still, us against the world.

Adair Swim Club has never been this packed, and it sends a thrill through me. The meet is nothing major, but it’s the first in the season. And, more importantly, for some of my swimmers, it’s the first time they’ll get on a block. It could go about a hundred different ways because a swimmer never knows how a race is going to turn out until they get in the water and swim it.

I pull my gaze from the warm-up pool to scan the crowd for familiar faces. Both Carter and Bryce are helping me out by keeping the kids organized and motivated, making sure they get to their lane on time. It’s a single day meet, and I can already see some of them starting to drag.

The rest of the Adair Swim support is out in full swing, and almost everyone is wearing the shirts Mia designed. My eyes land on the section with my girlfriend in it and immediately find her. She’s grinning brightly, talking to Josie about something, and her dark hair is flowing with every movement of her head. Kat is next to them, with Liam at her side, who looks like he might throw up. I bite back a grin. If Emmie goes as far as I think she can go, Liam has a lot more nauseating moments ahead of him. He should pace himself.

Emmie’s final is up next, she has the top time going into the final. I remember when I raced at her age, desperate to pull out a fast time to impress my parents. Emmie, though, is relaxed as she shakes her muscles out. A cool confidence about her that comes from trusting in herself, in her training, and in knowing she won’t lose love if she doesn’t win.

It’s her first final she’s ever swam. The hundred-yard freestyle.

I might be feeling as sick to my stomach as Liam is. I don’t have favorite swimmers, but there are definitely ones closer to my heart.

“You ready?” I ask her. She’s fixing the braid her hair is in before she puts on her cap. She nods. “This is your first final ever, Emmie. No one is expecting fireworks, but if you trust yourself and everything we’ve been working on—”

“I could have fireworks?” She grins cheekily.

“Let’s start with sparklers and work up to fireworks,” I offer with a laugh.

The swimmers are called for the race. Emmie flashes me one last grin and I move to stand next to Bryce, crossing my arms over my chest and training my eyes on the blocks. I don’t know why I have this nervous energy in me, why I feel the need to jump up and down to try and work it out. I feel like we’re on the edge of something, but I don’t know if it’s good or bad. Maybe I should have had Mia do a tarot reading for the outcome of this meet.

No, that would be a bad idea.

“Dude, you need to chill,” Bryce mutters, the coach of the high school standing on his other side. “She’s going to do fine.”

“I know,” I reply. But do I know? “This is her first final, and she’s been working so hard. Plus, her reaction time isn’t exactly where we want to see it and—”

“And all that can be fixed in practice later. Let’s focus on the now.”

Take your marks.

My gaze jumps to the starting blocks, zeroing in on Emmie, my only swimmer, to make the final. The buzzer sounds, and they’re off.