Page 29

Chapter 29

GAbrIEL

T he thing about being nervous when you’re a coach—you can’t let it show on game day. Both Beck and April had a quiet, anxious energy as we took turns laying out our things in the shared transition area on the morning of our 70.3 Ironman relay. I had to be the calm in the chaos.

So, I slowly reviewed the game plan, which was a simple one. Beck: stay to the left, don’t drown, and don’t get picked off by a shark (because this swim was in the bay, after all). April: keep the pace steady and comfortable. No wrecks.

Then I checked they had all their gear, that April had her bottled nutrition, and Beck had the tracker on his ankle—it served as the baton for our relay.

The longer we talked through the plan and checked off the gear, the easier the two seemed to breathe. All the while, the knot in my stomach pulled tighter and tighter.

I’d been so focused on how much I thought this plan could help April, I hadn’t considered the damage it would cause if it backfired. If, for whatever godforsaken reason, she had to DNF today, she’d claim this as evidence of her Ironman curse. I could see her adding a string to her mental Crimes Committed by the Universe board. How could I ask her to complete a full—on her own—after that?

While Beck pulled on his wetsuit, I turned to April. She absently rubbed the tiny wings on her butterfly charm.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” But her voice was a little too high-pitched. She was overselling it.

I put my hands on her shoulders. “You’ve put in the work. Now it’s time to show off.”

She nodded, but my words didn’t seem to permeate.

“I have something for you.”

That got her attention. “You do?”

I handed her a square of packing tape with the sticky sides pressed inward, making a protective case for the four-leaf clover.

By the look in April’s eyes, you would have thought I’d given her a diamond, not a weed. “Did you find this?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Chuck probably thought I was a nutcase, kneeling in the grass to look for one.”

“That must have taken you forever.”

It had been forty-five minutes, minimum, and for the entirety of that time, I kept reminding myself that what I was doing did not strike as casual, but she didn’t need to know that. “No. It wasn’t too bad.”

She threw her arms around me, so hard that I rocked back from the impact. “Thank you.”

I returned the hug, relishing the whiff of raspberry and the surge of warmth that spread across my chest at being close to her. So much for keeping my feelings under control. What was it about her that had my resolve in pieces within minutes? “It’s no problem,” I said, voice rough.

When I released her, I realized Beck was looking between us, an eyebrow hiked. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he would when we were alone. He loved to give me hell. Mercifully, he rarely shamed me publicly.

“Go, Team Trouble!” We turned to find Emily. She leaned over the transition gate with a poster board. Our team name had been swooped and swirled onto the sign in the elegant penmanship that attested to Emily’s craft. Emily had been the one to come up with the Team Trouble name after realizing Beck and I would be on the same relay.

Beck laughed, clearly surprised and delighted to see her. We followed him over.

“I thought you had to be at the live lettering event,” he said.

Strands from Emily’s bun came loose, red hair whipping in the wind as she shrugged. “I told Hailey I’d join her in a bit. I didn’t want to miss your swim.”

Before Beck could jump the fence and make out with her, which is exactly what he looked like he wanted to do, I reached over the gate and hugged her. “Hey, Emily.”

“You ready to crush this race?” she asked, face muffled by my chest.

“No crushing,” I said, releasing her. “We are just taking an easy day.”

I looked between Beck and April, and because I knew teasing them would take their minds off the race, I put a hand on each of their shoulders. “We’re a little nervous,” I said with exaggerated sympathy.

As predicted, my hands were instantly shoved away. I chuckled at the look April gave me, then neutralized the situation by introducing her to Emily. Unfortunately, they didn’t have long to talk. An announcer came over a creaky speaker, giving directions to athletes. That’s when Emily looked at the other spectators, claiming their positions along the course.

“Well, I guess I should go find a spot before they fill up.”

“My cousin, Trevor, probably found the best place.” April pointed to where Trevor crouched, giving Johnson a scratch. “He’s the guy with the camera and the wiener dog.”

“Thanks!” Emily replied, then to Beck, “Good luck with open water.”

He gave her a playful scowl, then kissed her on the nose.

“Your girlfriend is adorable,” April said as we walked back to our spot in transition.

“She is,” Beck agreed, wearing that same smile he always wore when someone mentioned Emily. Then his head jerked up. “So, is your cousin a photographer?”

“Yes,” April answered proudly.

“And is he any good?”

“I’m biased, but he’s been doing it forever. He’s actually waiting to hear back about a job at Exposure , the nature magazine.”

“Do you think he’d be willing to take pictures of a potential engagement?”

I stopped and stretched my arm out to make him stop, too. “Are you finally going to ask her?”

“Yeah.” He gave one of his normal cocky smiles, but I could read the nerves beneath. “In two weeks. I’m going to ask her where we first met.”

“That’s so sweet,” April said. “I’ll talk to Trevor for you.”

“Thank you. And you are both invited.” He looked at me. “I made the mistake of telling Victoria and Emily’s sister, Hailey, my plan,” he said grumpily. “Now, they are making a whole event of it.”

“What day?” I asked.

“The twenty-ninth. It’s a Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong? You have plans? ”

“No. That’s the problem.” I looked at April who was trying to suppress a smile. “That’s the day after our local triathlon club is throwing a party. I was hoping to have an excuse to miss it.”

Beck cocked his head. “Why? You love parties.”

I thought of all the parties Beck and I had attended in college. I never drank—afraid I’d turn out like my dad. Beck, however, was a fun drunk. All unbridled laughter and quick-witted remarks.

“It’s not the party,” April said, giving me a knowing smile. “It’s the host.” Because, of course, it had to be at Clay’s house this year. “We don’t have to go,” she supplied.

“No,” I said. “It’s fine. I should make an appearance if only to socialize with my athletes for a bit. It will be the last time I see most of them before race day.”

April nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

“Anyway, I’ll be there,” I said, returning to the main topic—Beck getting engaged. “I’m so happy for you, man.”

“Well, don’t celebrate early. Emily hasn’t said yes yet.”

My lips pressed into a flat line. In high school, Beck could just smile at a girl and have her number. Now, he had a woman who openly loved him, and he was an anxious wreck.

“She’s going to say yes.” I reached down to pinch one of his cheeks. “You are so cute when you’re nervous, Beckett.”

He dodged my hand. “I’m not nervous. It’s just presumptuous to assume she’ll say yes.”

I chose to ignore his ridiculous fear of Emily saying no. Some humility would do him good, anyway.

I noticed one of my athletes sorting through his gear and decided to check on him and some of the others, telling Beck and April I’d catch up with them later. Everyone on my roster, except April, had a full Ironman under their belts, so the seventy miles were no big deal. Still, I reminded them about the choppy water of Galveston and told them to be braced for strong winds on the bike.

“I didn’t realize you were racing today, Torres.” I recognized the voice as belonging to one of my least favorite people. I took a long inhale before turning to face Clay. He wore his little matching sweat kit over his tri-suit, no surprise there.

“Yep. We’re relaying it.”

He scrunched his nose. “With who?”

“An old friend.” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “And April.”

Clay’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your goal here?”

I didn’t understand the question. “To have a good race?”

“No.” He laughed bitterly. “I mean with April. Are you hoping the board will give you extra points for taking on a charity case?”

“Okay,” I said, turning. The guy was a parasite. He loved getting under other people’s skin. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Have a good race,” I said woodenly.

I left him to go back to my team. It was childish, but I had a new reason for wanting April to kick ass today.

I wanted Clay to pay for dropping her.

I watched another wave of swimmers come out of the water. As predicted, the bay was choppy. Knowing Beck did ninety-nine percent of his training in a pool as flat as glass kept my nerves bubbling under the surface. So, when one of the swimmers ripped off his swim cap to reveal a head of curls, I felt both a surge of relief and a little shock. Beck had been among some of the first to reach land. He swam daily, but I hadn’t expected him to do that well in his first open-water race.

He got to transition, dripping and breathless. Going straight from swimming to running was incredibly disorienting, so he wavered when he reached to remove the tracker from his ankle. April stopped him and crouched to pull it off instead. I would have helped, but only two relay members could be in transition at a time during the race, so I watched from the gate.

“You had a great time,” she said, freeing the Velcro.

Beck hunched forward, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I felt something touch my leg as soon as I got in the water,” he panted. “It was quite motivating.”

“Take your time!” I called. “It’s not a race or anything.”

“Why are we friends with him?” Beck asked, stepping out of the tracker.

April pulled the band tight against her own ankle. “He gives good massages.”

Beck scowled. “We don’t do that.”

April laughed while yanking her bike off the rack.

“You’ve got this, Baird!” I yelled. “Break the curse!”

She saluted me, then jogged with her bike to the exit. I didn’t take my eyes off her as I took her place in transition. When she was out of view, I realized Beck was staring at me.

“What?”

“You tell me,” he said, pushing his wet curls off his forehead. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing. How about you get in some dry clothes? You’ re off duty now.”

“Stop changing the subject,” he said as he reached around to pull the string on his wetsuit zipper.

“When have you ever known me to kiss and tell?”

“I’m not asking for details, Gabe. Jesus. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at a woman with love eyes before.”

“I do not have love eyes.”

“You do,” he said, peeling the wetsuit down. “And it’s okay, you know? You can let yourself be happy.”

“I am happy,” I said flatly.

“You know what I mean.”

“What I know is that you smell like cheap seafood.”

He frowned but dropped the conversation. Beck was my closest friend, and there was no denying life had dealt him plenty of shit. I just had a hard time believing he understood the gravity of my situation when he had grown up in a healthy home. He’d had issues with his own dad, but they were vastly different than my experiences.

I stared at the bike entrance archway. We had about three hours before April returned, and I didn’t know how I would do anything else besides watch for her.

My mind played all the scenarios that could keep that from happening. She didn’t lack power. She’d been so solid in her training. The wind was formidable but nothing she couldn’t handle. If she got a flat tire, she could change it, no problem.

The only real concern was another wreck. What were the odds of that happening again? They had to be low. That didn’t stop me from thinking of how I’d found her last year, lying on the asphalt.

Quieta como la muerte.

Still as death.

No one else stopped to help her .

How long would it take for someone to help if she wrecked again? The idea made my stomach feel as choppy as the bay.