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I’m in the marshalling area with Coby as we ready ourselves to swim again today. Me for my semi, he for his final. He’s on just after me again, and we sit together as my knee bobs up and down in nerves for the both of us.

“Be confident and swim hard. You’re in the final. You can get this gold not just for you but for Australia,” I say, trying to give him some confidence.

He appears a hell of a lot calmer than I am right now. “I got this, Butterfly. But I should be pep-talking you, you’re up first—”

“Mine’s only a semi, yours is the real deal, Coby.”

He smiles, and it’s as if it has finally sunk in. “I’m going for gold, Lacy.”

I chew my bottom lip and grab his hands. “Yeah, you are.”

“100 Fly line up, please.”

Taking a deep breath, Coby smiles as he squeezes my hands. “You’ve got this, Butterfly.”

I dip my chin, and he brings my hand up, kissing the back of it, seeing as the room is full of marshals and officials. He lets my hands go, and I take a deep breath and walk over to my line. There are a couple of girls, and then Marta is next to Katie, and I am on the other side, then there are a couple more after Katie. The lineup has some awesome swimmers, and I’m not sure how this is going to go, but I’m going to swim my hardest. I turn to Katie, and she smiles at me. I have to admit, I’m a little confused by the turn in Katie—I’m almost a little suspicious of it, seeing as how she was so horrible at the trials. But then again, I guess being pulled in by the Board might change a person . Who knows?

We walk out. I turn back one last time to Coby for that final boost of confidence. He smiles, giving me two thumbs up. I smile back before facing the front and walk out with a renewed boost in my step. We take our positions and wave to the crowd as our names are called.

I need to get through this race to qualify for my spot in the final.

I need to be that step closer to gold.

The buzzer sounds, and we step up to the starting block.

I focus all my thoughts on my mantra and nothing else, reciting it over and over. I need to light the match as soon as possible and maybe stoke the fire again in the last fifty.

“Take your mark.”

We all bend down, and I’m focused so hard on hearing the starting signal when I faintly hear someone murmur bang. Not loudly, just enough to unsettle me. I almost jump into the water but stop myself. The girl next to Marta falls for it and dives into the water. My heart sinks for her.

The buzzer goes off, making the rest of us stand back up.

We witness that girl’s Olympic dreams shatter, and my shoulders slump.

What’s going to happen now?

Meanwhile, the Chinese swimmer gets out of the pool, tears streaming down her face. She takes her seat. I check if anyone’s going to say anything. Was the bang in my head? Did the Chinese girl hear it too? It could have only come from one place… Marta.

I’m not sure if I should say something or not. It won’t help the Chinese girl anyway—she false started. There’s no bending the rules. She’s disqualified. But if Marta is being sneaky and trying to psyche out her competitors, she needs to be caught. The only problem is, I can’t be sure it was her. I have nothing to go on other than my gut. So I keep my mouth shut as they sound the buzzer so we can step back up to the starter blocks.

The tension in the air is rife.

All the swimmers’ shoulders are tense.

No one else wants a false start, so everyone will be paying extra attention now. And if it was Marta, I could be next on her target list, so I need to keep my ears open.

“Take your mark.”

I bend down and shudder at the thought of false starting. I keep my ears pinned, waiting for Marta to say something, but there’s nothing. When the starting signal fires, I delay for a nanosecond and then jump with everything I have into the water. As I dive, I glance slightly to my right. All the other swimmers are in the water. Relief floods me as I focus on the task at hand, which is my stroke and coming up occasionally for oxygen. My arms crash over my body before I slam down into the depths. I start my stroke strong and hard. There’s no buildup this time so I push with steely determination. I hit the wall and turn quickly, pushing myself as hard as I can.

My muscles clench, my lungs burn, and everything’s screaming at me to slow down, but my pure adrenaline and hatred for Marta is spurring me on. I dive down and hit the wall, then force my body out of the water with a gasp of air.

I finally scan the scoreboard—first place, then Marta, then Katie. I throw my hands up in the air and squeal. Marta scowls as Katie approaches me and pats my shoulder.

“Good job, Lacy,” she pants as we take off our caps and swim over the lane dividers.

We hop out of the pool and make our way to the marshalling area. Coby is hopping from one foot to the other as I approach, and I race forward to see him. He lunges and pulls me to him in a tight as fuck hug. I giggle as he nuzzles my neck and gently kisses my skin. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs.

“400 Free, let’s go.”

We pull apart, and I smile at him. “Now you go and win that gold, Eel.”

“If you can come in first, I can too. You’ve spurred me on.”

“Go get ’em. Show the world what us convicts are made of.”

He furrows his brows. “Huh?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Never mind, good luck.” Leaning in, I kiss his cheek, and he smiles before rushing off into his lineup.

I walk over to take up my seat. There’s nothing that could stop me from watching this race. He takes his position. The starting signal fires. Coby lands in the water. He’s lagging behind the American, who is already an Olympic champion from previous years. Admittedly, he does have another seven laps to catch him. Coby always comes home strong. I’m hoping he lifts in the last hundred but also doesn’t let the American get in too much of a lead. But then again, a silver medal is amazing. Hell, even a bronze is great.

Chewing my bottom lip, I watch as Coby and the American race out ahead of the pack. Coby trails him. His muscles rippling in the water send a chill down my spine as I watch him. I’m on the edge of my seat as we come to the final hundred.

Coby is closing in. He’s lighting the match, and the American is fading, but he’s still in front. My knee bounces up and down on the seat as I wring my hands together, watching and hoping for Coby to lift just that little bit more. He does, and as they hit the wall, there’s only now half a body length between them. I can’t stand the nerves, so I stand and move closer to the screen—like that’s going to help—and I chant for him. The crowd in the stadium is roaring at a critical level. Coby comes up to a hand’s length behind him, and they’re only about ten metres away from the wall. I begin bouncing on the spot as my eyes well from pure adrenalin.

“C’mon, Coby, c’mon!” I can’t hold back and scream at the television. The people in the room stare at me, but I don’t care.

Coby’s caught him.

But they’re so close together that I can’t tell who has the edge.

I can’t stand the tension as my eyes well up and my breathing hitches.

The line comes up on the television, showing the Olympic record. Coby and the American are both under it.

“Oh shit! C’mon, Coby, c’mon.”

They both dive at the same time, and I gulp as they slam against the wall.

I hold my breath.

On the screen, Coby’s lane lights up first.

I scream as the tears flow.

The board lights up, showing a time of 3:39:82—he’s not only won the gold but has also broken the Olympic Record previously held by China.

My body reacts before I can contain it, and I jump up and down on the spot before the tension ebbs and tears continue to stream down my face. I’m so proud of him. He beat the odds—no coach, no family—and he did it all on his own merits.

He races over to the commentator to give his interview, and I take in some much-needed deep breaths. I can only imagine how excited he is right now. Pacing the marshalling area, waiting for him to come back, I try to rein in my tears before he arrives. He doesn’t need to see me as a blubbering mess.

After he has finished all his obligations, I turn and watch him coming into the marshalling area. Smiling when he finally reaches me, I grab and pull him behind the partition, pushing him against the wall and kissing him hard. He chuckles against my lips but kisses me back as he runs his fingers through my wet hair. He holds me while our tongues collide in a passionate, all-encompassing kiss. I can’t stop the tears from running down my cheeks again as a wave of emotion flows over me.

I’m so proud of him .

So happy for him .

So honoured that he wants me like I want him .

Coby pulls back and brings his hand up to my cheek, wiping away the tears.

“I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles, his forehead leaning against mine. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I scoff. “Bullshit! It was all your hard work that got you there.”

“But I’ve been off my game with this shit with my dad, and since you came back into my life, everything’s fallen back into place.”

Smiling, I lean forward, kissing him again. The fire inside me ignites, and I clench my thighs together to dull the ache between my legs as I push my body against his. His arm slips around my waist, pulling me closer as his thumb traces slow, gentle circles on my cheek. Kissing him feels like stepping into the pages of a romance novel—like living a moment straight out of a timeless epic. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you believe in fairy tales, makes you wonder if they aren’t just fanciful stories but glimpses of something real. True happiness exists. You just have to find the one person who makes it feel possible.

We finally pull apart. I take a deep breath, gazing into his deep blue eyes. “You should probably go and get ready for your ceremony. You’re getting a freaking gold medal !”

He laughs. “Be waiting for me when I get back, understand?”

Nodding, I pull away, and he smirks.

“Oh, and pushing me against the wall… totally hot,” he quips, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he saunters away.

I can’t help it—a laugh bubbles out of me, light and carefree. As his footsteps fade, I let out a long, shaky breath, the tension of the moment unravelling. My smile lingers for a heartbeat, but then I slump against the wall, the weight of everything catching up to me.

Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a moment, trying to ground myself. My pulse is still racing, my thoughts a tangled mess of exhilaration and uncertainty.

Then, with a final deep breath, I straighten up, brushing my hands down my sides.

Time to pull it together.

***

There’s a small party for the swimmers being held in the Athletes’ Services Area Lounge after today’s competition is complete. We’d head there as a foursome to meet some of the other swimmers and to celebrate Coby’s gold and win for Australia.

We arrive at the lounge, and it’s not a party as such, it’s just more of drinks and nibbles while we watch the highlights of the day’s events on the large screens. The swimmers from other countries are here too. In fact, the entire swimming syndicate is here to celebrate tonight.

It’s great for us all to be together. We’re having fun. The guys were dragged off a little while ago by some other swimmers, leaving Caro and me to fend for ourselves, but we don’t mind because we love hanging together. Anna and Marta, the English swimmers, start handing out cups of soda to random people. I guess they’re trying to make up for being arseholes. Marta gives a cup to Caro and me and smiles as she waltzes off without saying anything.

“ Weird! They’re actually trying to be nice now?” I ask as Caro takes a big sip from her cup just as the guys come back with some unopened bottles of water.

“Hey, where did you get the drinks from?” East asks.

“The Brits, they’re handing them out,” Caro tells him.

Coby and East glance at each other before snatching our cups and throwing them into the nearest bin.

Caro furrows her brows. “Um… what’s that about?”

“As much as I like to trust people, I don’t. And you girls shouldn’t either,” East warns us.

“What?” I ask.

Coby shrugs. “I doubt they’d do anything, but this is the Olympics. It tends to make people competitive .”

Caro gasps and shakes her head. “Shit! I drank some.”

East wraps his arm around her shoulders. “It’s just a precaution. I doubt it’s even anything to think about, babe.”

She cuddles East as I turn to Coby.

The American swimmers come over—I can tell from their uniforms.

“Hey, Heath. Heath, this is Lacy and Caro, and you know East. Guys, this is Heath Carson from the States. He’s competing in the 100m Fly and 200m Free.”

“Hey, Heath, pleased to meet you. You’re racing tomorrow, then?” I ask.

He lifts his shoulders. “Yeah, got my first heat in the morning.”

“What do you think of Australia?” Caro asks.

“People are great. The food’s a little different, but it’s great to actually be here, even though I miss Kings Crescent a fair bit.”

“That’s where you’re from?” I ask.

“Yeah, back home in California.”

“I’d love to go to America,” I admit.

“It’s a cool place. You guys should come for a holiday. Fable would love to meet some of my peers.”

“Fable?” Caro asks.

“My girl.”

“Odd name.” Caro chuckles.

“It’s a long story, but the name suits her. I couldn’t imagine her any other way.”

I can see the adoration pouring from his eyes as he talks about Fable and I hope I get to meet her one day. “You love her.”

He smiles for the first time. “Yeah… I do.”

“Well, how ’bout us Aussies show you Yanks how to party?” East asks, and everyone opens their eyes wide in shock.

“We all have to swim tomorrow, East,” Caro berates.

“I’m not talking about drinking. I’m talking about tag team table tennis. You game, Yankee boys?”

I crack up laughing as Caro and Coby shake their heads.

“Is that such a thing?” Heath asks.

“It is now, c’mon, let’s go,” East demands and starts walking off to the ping pong tables.

It’s going to be an interesting night.