Page 16

sixteen

. . .

Tony

“For fuck’s sake, shut up already,” Al snaps at me from across the kitchen table.

It’s a rare occasion when my brother and I are home at the same time. Even more rare that we actually spend time together.

I’ve been whistling for the last three days, ever since Vivienne agreed to go out with me. Tonight’s the night. I have it all planned out.

“What are you so happy about, anyway?” Al demands.

“Got a date tonight.” I grin as I scramble half a dozen eggs for the both of us.

“Good for you. Now shut up.”

Laughing, I lean against the counter and wait for the eggs to cook.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Al asks.

“She was worth waiting for.”

“Do I know her?”

My heart stops for a second. Vivienne and I didn’t discuss if we were letting people know. We’re too connected. What if it doesn’t work out? What if she decides I’m too much of a grumpy asshole for her after all? I don’t think I’d be able to handle all of our friends and my family asking what went wrong.

“Nah, you don’t know her,” I lie, stirring the eggs.

“Well, I’m leaving for a road trip, so you just have to deal with Cari tonight,” Al says. “You might want to warn her to clear out and give you some space.”

“I’m not going to bring her back here.”

My brother raises his eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“Not for a first date, at least,” I amend. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Also, I’m fairly sure Vivienne lives alone. Best case scenario, we can go to her place… but I’m not banking on anything happening. I like her too much to jeopardize what we could have. I’m interested in more than sex with her. That means not rushing into things.

Al shrugs and rolls his eyes, putting his attention back to his phone.

“What about you?” I force myself to ask. “Seeing anyone?”

My brother’s eyes widen. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m making conversation.” My chin lifts. “Forget it.”

To my surprise, he grins. “I’m not seeing anyone. All of my teammates are settling down and I… I want what they have, you know? I want my forever person.”

“You’re still young. You have time.”

Al shrugs. “I don’t think age factors into it. I’m ready for something serious.” He pauses. “It turns out when you go into it with the intention of serious, it kind of scares women off. Like I’m putting them on a penalty kill when we’re down by two in the last five minutes of the third.”

“Pressure cooker.” I nod, turning off the burner and scooping eggs onto two plates already loaded with black beans, sliced avocado, and tortillas. The pico de gallo I made earlier is already on the table. “I can see how that might be too intense for a first date.”

He nods. “I don’t want to fuck around anymore. I want a relationship that actually means something.”

“I get that.”

“You do?” He laughs. “Mr. Grumpy McGrumperson wants an actual relationship?”

Shrugging, I let myself admit the truth. “With her, I think I do.”

Al whistles. “Shit. You like her.”

“I really do.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “When do we get to meet her?”

I ignore the fact that he’s already met her. “How about after we have our first few dates?”

“Yeah, it might be too soon.” Al laughs. “I’m happy for you, Tone. Really.”

Buoyant, I carry that with me all day at training and throughout my shift at the shelter. Brody is amused, Coach less so, but when I stick my vault again and again and again, he certainly can’t complain. Well, not any more than usual. Coach wouldn’t be Coach if he didn’t complain.

Vivienne lives in a squat, three-story brownstone in Weymouth, not far from where the Revolution play in Quincy. She’s waiting on the sidewalk when I pull up on my motorcycle. A smile stretches from ear to ear.

“Hey.” I greet her with a smile of my own. Swinging my leg over the side of the bike, I approach her and give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “You look great.”

She’s wearing tight, dark jeans, a blood-red sweater, and a black bomber jacket. Her dark brown hair is loose around her shoulders with a subtle wave that I’m sure probably took forever to achieve. Although her makeup is light and natural, her dark red lipstick does dangerous things to my heart rate.

Then again, being around her in general makes my heart pound like crazy.

“Thanks. You clean up pretty good yourself.”

I can’t deny her words make me feel good. I’ve shaved and taken care styling my hair, although it probably got messed up by my helmet, and I was deliberate picking out my clothes. Cari says women go wild for a guy in a Henley. I want to look good for her. I want her to be confident to show up on my arm.

Grabbing the spare helmet from the storage compartment on my bike, I hand it over, and as she tugs it over her head, my cock twitches at the sight of her in my gear.

As I step closer to her, I catch a whiff of her sweet strawberry perfume. I quickly check the fit on her helmet, making sure she’s secured.

“Have you ridden a motorcycle before?” I ask, swinging my leg over.

Vivienne shakes her head. “First time for everything.”

I like that we can have some firsts together. Helps make up for our negative first time.

“Climb on behind me and wrap your arms around my waist.”

Her eyes brighten teasingly as she does so, and a shiver goes through me at the innocent contact. “Like this?”

Her hands settle innocently on my obliques. I can feel the heat of her through my shirt and jacket.

My mouth goes dry. “Yeah. That’s… that’s good.”

It takes me a few moments to regroup before I turn the bike back on and pull out into traffic.

Navigating the streets of Boston is second nature for me. I grew up here, and aside from my four years at Berkeley, I’ve spent my entire adult life here. Driving through the city with a gorgeous woman on my bike? I’ve never experienced anything like this.

Dinner and drinks are the cliché first date, so that’s exactly what I didn’t want. It’s a little chilly for a picnic. A museum feels stuffy. There are so many historical places in the city to sight-see, but that didn’t feel right, either. Any sort of physical activity like ice skating is definitely not allowed, not when I’m this close to Worlds selection, and she’s in training.

So when we pull up to the Boston Garden, I can see her confusion and disappointment when she takes off her helmet.

“You brought me to a hockey game?”

“Basketball.” I hold my breath. “It’s something neither of us have any ties to, I don’t know anyone on the team, and it’s better than staring awkwardly at each other from across a table.”

To my surprise, she cracks a grin. “I dig it.”

She hands me the helmet to stow it away, and then before I know what’s happened, she’s grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together.

“If you brought me to see your brother play, I’d have been disappointed,” she admits. “We can do that anytime.”

“Your friends are connected to the team. It wouldn’t be special. I wanted something for us, but still casual.”

Her eyebrows arch up. “Is that what you’re looking for? Casual?”

“I didn’t want to take you to a fancy restaurant that reminds me of my job,” I tell her honestly. “I can bring you Michelin-starred food any night you want. Eating that way is not part of my diet plan, at least right now.”

“Because you’re gearing up for a competition.”

“World championships.” I nod. As we approach the check stand, I scan our tickets to gain entry, then take her hand again. “I have a pretty good shot of making the team. There are five spots, plus two alternates. The team needs my vault score to make the finals.”

“I don’t know much about gymnastics,” Vivienne says. “The basics, yeah. Simone Biles is the greatest of all the time. Maybe it makes me a bad athlete.”

“Not at all. I didn’t know anything about rugby before the last Olympics.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah? Did us bringing home the silver medal change that?”

“Nope.” I tug on her hand until she turns to face me. “You did.”