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. . .

Viv

Tony Gonzales. I finally have a name to put to the face.

For the last three years, I’ve kind of glossed over the fact that my rock bottom happened at the Olympics with another Team USA athlete. I guess it wasn’t out of the question to run into them again.

But I didn’t expect it to happen now .

When I woke up naked and alone… I’ve never been so low. So used. I was in the prime of my career, celebrating the pinnacle of success at the motherfucking Olympics , and instead of celebrating that, I got wasted and hooked up with some dude I barely remembered who couldn’t even be bothered to stay for a damn minute once he used me to get his rocks off.

It was sex. A one-night stand. A hookup. There were no feelings involved. It was instant attraction, lubricated by the copious amounts of alcohol we both consumed.

And yeah, for some people, it might not have been a big deal. Even for me, six months prior, it might not have been a big deal.

But that night—and the morning after?

That’s a low I’ve never experienced before. It’s something I never want to experience again.

He didn’t take advantage of me. I consented. Fuck, I was more than willing.

Something about the way he left me, naked and alone, rubbed me the wrong way. It still does.

It impacted my play in the final match. Yeah, Team USA walked away with a silver medal, but we could have won gold. We could have done better if I didn’t have my head in the clouds, trying to process. I’m the reason our team failed. I’m the reason we didn’t win.

Maybe that makes me arrogant. As a co-captain, there was a responsibility on my shoulders that I didn’t uphold. I didn’t play my best, and I didn’t have the headspace to encourage my team to be their best, either.

I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since. I don’t need it in my life. Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol that made me feel that way, but it sure didn’t help. I don’t go to meetings; I don’t need a support group. I just don’t want alcohol in my life.

When I reach my apartment, I head upstairs and immediately run a bubble bath. I want to go for a run. I want to scream or yell or punch something. But I can’t. That wouldn’t serve me.

Sliding into the bath with a protein shake and a good novel helps. I get lost in the book for a bit. My friend Sadie is the author—Sylvie Hirsch is her pen name. She runs a book club and I’ve met some great friends there… including some with ties to the Boston Grizzlies organization.

See, it’s a good thing that Al and I never made it to our date, I tell myself. We have people in common. The sports world is too small. The city is too small.

Shit! I never texted him!

Sloshing in the tub, I pull out my phone and click on his contact. There’s a new message from him.

Cari mentioned you had to go. Sorry for running late. Rain check?

Deliberating for a moment, I finally text back:

I don’t think it’s a good idea. Your sister is my teammate. It could get messy.

Chewing on my lip, I watch the little bubbles dance for a moment as he types.

Fair enough. I’ll catch you around.

A second later, another message.

If I show up at a Revolution game, it’s because I’m cheering on my sister. Not trying to stalk you.

I laugh.

Noted. Same if I end up at a Grizzlies game. I’m supporting the team.

Take care, Viv.

With a sigh, I close my phone and sink back into the bubbles. That could have gone a lot worse.

Why couldn’t Al be related to literally anyone else in the world? Now that I’ve seen the two of them in the same photograph, I can see the similarities. I didn’t get a chance to know Al. It’s all tainted by his brother.

Tony.

Tony Gonzales.

Hey, at least I have a name to put with the face, I rationalize to myself. At least I don’t have to think of him as “some random dude” anymore.

Although… maybe that would have been better than knowing he’s my teammate’s big brother.

The animal shelter is a small brick building in the middle of downtown. It is not what I was expecting an animal shelter to look like. It’s only fall, but there’s a chill to the air that permeates the building. And the animals inside? They look so sad, huddled up in tiny balls in their cages. I almost want to reach out and soothe the poor critters.

I’m low-key afraid of animals. It’s not something I talk about because who the hell doesn’t like animals? When I was three years old, my neighbors’ dog got loose and came over and attacked me. Sure, she attacked me with kisses, she was supposedly a sweet thing, but for three-year-old me, it was terrifying to be knocked to the ground, the dog’s heavy paws on my chest pinning me down as she slobbered all over me. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t get free.

Just because the dog meant no harm doesn’t negate the terror I felt. Every time I see a dog, no matter how cute they are, I always expect them to pounce on me and leave me defenseless again.

I never want to feel helpless again.

But when the team PR whiz asked for volunteers for this media appearance, I couldn’t say no. As Alycia reminds me, I need to take every opportunity to put myself in the spotlight. Rugby fans know who I am, thanks to my decade-long career, but the public does not. And if I want to keep any endorsement campaigns after I retire next summer, I’ve got to increase my public presence.

So: animal shelter. Last week, I went to the children’s hospital. That might have started out as work, but it turned into fun. Next week, I’m sure there’s another appearance on my docket.

Kiana, Andi, Cari, and I are here to help for a few hours. Whatever that means, I’m not sure.

“Welcome, welcome,” Susan, the shelter director, says as she ushers us inside. We’re followed by Eden, the team’s photographer. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you for having us. I’m Viv, the team captain,” I introduce, shaking her hand firmly. Her grip is limp.

“We’re happy to finally meet Carolina’s teammates,” she chirps.

Cari blushes. “I used to volunteer here,” she says awkwardly.

Oh. I clear my throat. “So we’re all family here.”

Cari giggles nervously. This is her first PR appearance. We’ll help her through it.

Susan takes us on a brief tour of the facility. There’s a play room for the kitties and a small indoor/outdoor area for the doggies. Staff are cleaning cages, playing with the animals, generally taking care of them.

I have to admit, they do look kind of cute. But then I start to think about petting one, and my heart starts to pound, and I have to take a step back.

A tall man in a black T-shirt is on his hands and knees, coaxing a kitten out of her enclosure. My eyes fall to his backside, taking in the solid muscles. He has a wide, bitable booty and sturdy thighs. As an athlete, I know when people work out. And this guy? He works out. His strong, inked arms flex and his muscles bunch under his T-shirt.

Involuntarily, I let out a soft whimper, biting my lower lip as I salivate over the dude.

Kiana smirks and elbows me. “Are you going to…?”

I shake my head. “Bad idea.”

He’s staff. He didn’t come to work and ask to be sexualized. He didn’t come to work to be sexually harassed. I don’t like when it happens to me; the least I can do is extend basic courtesy to him too.

I haven’t told anyone about my run in with Tony Gonzales the other day. I never told anyone about what happened between us. How could I, when I didn’t know his name? And now knowing the worst mistake of my life is my teammate’s brother…

Cari pops up like a jack-in-the-box. “What’s a bad idea?”

Kiana clears her throat. “Nothing.”

She pouts. “Come on. Don’t leave me out.”

“I was thinking of getting a kitten, but it’s a bad idea,” I hurry to lie. “I travel too much.”

Not to mention their claws terrify me. Sharp little devil blades. My younger sister had a cat growing up and I still have a scar on my chest from when she scratched me.

Cari’s face clears. “Oh. I get that. My brothers want to get a pet. I keep talking them out of it.”

My scowl at the mention of her brothers is automatic.

She frowns. “Did Al reach out to you? Were you able to reschedule?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I say casually, sticking my hands in my pockets. “It’s messy.”

“But—”

I shake my head. “What are we doing today?”

Susan details our jobs. There’s dog walking, feeding, and cleaning out the cages on offer.

“I’ll clean the cages,” I immediately announce. Hopefully, they’ll be empty.

“Great, Tony will show you what to do,” Susan says.

My stomach sinks.

When Cari said she worked here… and now there’s a guy named Tony here…

Slowly, I turn around, and sure enough, there is Tony Gonzales, scowling with a tiny black kitten clutched in his massively muscular arms.

“Come on,” he grunts, jerking his chin. “We’re this way.”

Kiana raises her eyebrows, looking between us. I shake my head.

“I don’t have all day,” Tony snaps.