Page 9

nine

. . .

Tony

“Who’s the chick?” Brody asks as I pass him his beer.

“Who?” I echo, handing out drinks to the rest of the guys. Dylan is twenty-four and a powerhouse on the rings. Tommy is maybe twenty-six and specializes in parallel bars and the pommel horse. They’ve both been on the national team since college and Tommy was on last year’s Worlds team with me.

“The super hot chick you were chatting up,” Dylan says, nodding toward Vivienne’s table.

My cheeks heat. “She knows my sister.”

Brody’s eyebrows go up. “And she looks like she hates you because…?”

I wince. “Because she does.”

“Her friends keep looking over here,” Tommy comments, shamelessly looking back at them over his shoulder.

“Can you stop being so fucking obvious?” I hiss at him.

“What, do you like her or something?” Brody teases.

Or something.

“She shot me down,” I mutter.

Brody laughs. Loudly.

Fucker.

“Come on, man,” he says, slinging an arm across my shoulders. “We’ll get you nice and drunk and find you another one to go home with.”

“We have training tomorrow morning,” I remind him.

He waves it off. “Come on. One night won’t kill you.”

“She might though,” Dylan taunts. “That chick looks like she wants to cut off your dick and feed it to you.”

Brody and Tommy wince.

I glance over in Vivienne’s direction. Her table is in the direct path of ours, so our eyes meet, and she glares at me so furiously I think a fire might have started. Unable to help myself, I smile and wave my fingers at her. Steam practically rises from her ears, and she turns in her seat so she can’t see me.

Damn it. I pushed too hard.

“Yeah,” I agree glumly. “But it would be fun.”

“You’re sick, man,” Tommy says, shaking his head.

“Definitely.” I take a drink of my beer.

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Brody says sagely.

My eyebrows go up. “Who said anything about my heart?”

He laughs. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this sprung on a woman before. You want more than just a night with her.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I try not to crawl into a hole and die. “I mean, have you seen her?”

She’s basically every fantasy come to life. Tall, nearly as tall as me, with wide shoulders and strong thighs that felt incredible wrapped around my waist. She’s got curves to go with her muscles. Her body is amazing. Her as a person? I like her. I want to know more.

We don’t talk about feelings, me and the guys. We have a very surface level relationship. I’ve met Brody’s girlfriend, she came to championships last year, but I never hang out with Tommy or Dylan outside of the gym.

“So it’s just physical, then,” Tommy says slowly.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Just physical.”

Vivienne means something to me. Our night together, the night before I brought home the bronze medal at the Olympics, it meant something. We had a connection.

After my events were over, I looked for her, but she was in the semi-finals for her medal, so I kept to myself. I promised myself I would approach her at the Closing Ceremony, but I never got the chance. Too many people were there. She was never alone.

I sent her a few messages on Instagram. She never answered. I’m guessing she was inundated with messages following the Games; I know I was, and I have nowhere near her star power. I didn’t have a way to contact her directly. What, was I supposed to call up the national rugby federation and ask for her contact info? She would have thought I was the world’s biggest stalker.

Looking back… I do regret the way I left things though. Sneaking out after she fell asleep was a dick move. I can see that now in a way I couldn’t have in the heat of the moment three years ago.

Chancing a glance in her direction again, she’s talking to her friends, absently twirling a lock of hair around her finger. I never took her as a hair twirling type. I’m filled with the sudden desire to find out what else I don’t know about her.

Brody chugs the rest of his beer. “Oh, look, my glass is empty,” he says loudly. “I need another. You?”

It’s been two point seven seconds since I gave him his drink. I glare at him. “What are you doing?”

He kicks back his barstool and ambles over to the bar. In short order, he’s served another beer, plus a short glass of a clear liquid with a lime wedge.

Brody doesn’t make his way back to our table though. He cuts his way through the crowd to Vivienne’s table.

Shit.

Hopping off my stool, I rush over to intercept him as he’s offering the short glass toward her.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Vivienne is saying.

“Come on, it’s just a drink,” Brody wheedles. “He—” He looks up at me. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you before you end up wearing that drink,” I snap. Turning to her, I offer a chagrined smile. “Sorry about him. He has no sense of self-preservation.”

“Nor do you,” Vivienne counters with a smirk.

Brody tries to push the drink toward her again.

“Dude, no woman is going to take a drink from a man she doesn’t know,” I point out. “That’s basic safety 101.”

Surprise flutters over Viv’s face. I wonder why she’s surprised.

“Besides, I’m sober,” she says again.

“We can fix that,” Brody says with a grin.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m sober. As in, I don’t drink.”

It’s my turn to be surprised. The night we met, she was drinking rum and Cokes. I still remember the hint of spice on her breath when I kissed her in the elevator, the way she clung to me as the metal cage rose to the twelfth floor where she was staying.

I remember that night far too well for a random hookup three and a half years ago. I guess that’s because she’s not just a random hookup to me.

She’s my gold medal. Sure, I may have only brought home a physical bronze medal. But that night with her? It meant everything.

Vivienne’s friend tosses an arm over her shoulder and leans into her. “Do you guys want to hang out?”

The friend is pretty, with reddish-brown hair falling in curls down her back. She’s older than Vivienne, maybe mid-forties.

“I’m Ceci.” She introduces herself, then her friends. “This is Sadie, Vanessa, and Rachel.”

“Nah, we’re here with friends,” I answer when Brody doesn’t.

He glares at me. I stare back. I’m not a mind reader, so I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me.

“Bring your friends over,” Sadie says. She has wavy brown hair to her shoulders and a simple silver hoop through her nose. “Any friend of Viv’s is a friend of ours.”

“He’s not my friend,” Vivienne mutters, glowering at me. “I don’t even know him.”

And even though I try to laugh it off, I can’t deny the words hurt. “She’s my sister’s team captain,” I explain to the friends and Brody.

But from the assessing looks her friends give me, they already know that. I wonder what else she’s told them.

“We’re gymnasts,” Brody says, gesturing between us.

Ceci obviously checks us out. “I’ll say,” she says, a satisfied smirk turning up her wine-red lips.

My stomach turns. I don’t enjoy feeling like a piece of meat. Her sizzle of interest isn’t real; it feels like she’s forcing it, putting on a show.

A cheer goes up in the bar, and heads swivel toward the nearest TV. The Grizzlies game is on. I should probably follow the game to see how Al’s doing.

“Sven scored,” the blonde named Vanessa says with a happy smile. She does a little dance in her seat.

“ Someone’s getting laid,” Ceci teases.

Vanessa shakes her head. “They’re playing in Buffalo. Someone is getting home at two o’clock in the morning. We’ll celebrate when he wakes up.”

It takes me a second to connect the dots. “Are you talking about Sven Larsson?”

Vanessa’s smile brightens. “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend.”

“My brother is on the team too. Alberto Gonzales.”

Normally, I don’t like admitting my connection to the team. I don’t want people to think I’m boasting. Nor do I want the attention that comes along with having a famous sibling. Outside of the gymnastics world, nobody knows who I am—and I like it that way.

“Oh, I love Gonzo,” Rachel chimes in. “My boyfriend Jake is the goaltender.”

My stomach turns. No wonder Vivienne wanted to date Al. All of her friends are dating players on the team.

“What about you?” Brody asks, pointing the neck of his beer toward Sadie. “You got a boyfriend?”

She laughs. “Yeah. He’s an analyst on the intermission show.”

Brody’s attention turns to Ceci, lifting his eyebrows. I don’t know why he’s so invested in Vivienne’s friends’ relationships.

“I’m just a fan,” she says with a lascivious grin. “I might have to become a gymnastics fan too.”

“It’s a great sport,” Brody says casually. “I do personal training at a gym in Newton, if you’re ever interested in some one-on-one training.”

Rolling my eyes, I rap my knuckles twice on the table. “I’m going to head out,” I announce. “You don’t need me here.”

“You sure, man?” Brody asks.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“I guess I better scoot,” he says to the women. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Vanessa echoes with a warm smile.

Vivienne scowls.

“Why don’t you walk your friend out?” Ceci says pointedly.

“He’s not my friend,” she says.

“But you know him.”

“He’s barely an acquaintance.” Vivienne shakes her head. “He’s just another in a long list of mistakes.”