Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(42)

“It’s starting to get to me,” I said, hating the softness in my voice. “We leave for Rio in two weeks.”

“Two weeks is plenty of time.”

I snorted. “Right.”

“I meant what I said earlier. You’re not trusting your body. You’re letting the competition shake your confidence and you need to relax. Remember you’re a world champion. The Olympics aren’t that different than Worlds.”

I shook my head. “They’re very different and you know it.”

He sat back and drank his beer, letting me stew in silence.

“No,” he argued, finally. “I don’t know. This will be my first games too. I quit competing a month before the Olympics and never came back to the sport.”

I arched a brow, surprised he was willing to offer up details about his life after the day we’d had.

“Were you injured?” I asked, bringing up the rumor I’d heard.

He turned away, narrowing his eyes on the row of alcohol behind the bar. It was a while before he answered. “It was a culmination of things.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck before meeting my eyes again. “The reasons aren’t important.”

I could sense a darkness there, a secret he wasn’t quite willing to offer up yet. I wanted to lean forward and take his hand, promise he was safe with me, but he wasn’t. We weren’t each other’s confidants. Far from it.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to share the reasons, but I am curious.”

I stared at his lips cast in the hazy glow of the bar. “Curious about what?”

“If you regret it.”

He leaned close so I had no choice but to focus on him, inhale his beauty from across the table. “Never. Not once. The fire that burns in you—that need to compete and win—it never burned inside me. I never had the passion you have.”

“I’m scared I’m going to choke,” I admitted, playing with one of the coasters on the table, tearing it in two and then in four. “June, Lexi, and Molly have done this before. They know what to expect, but I feel like I’m the wildcard. I could go down to Rio and win gold, but I could just as easily go up in flames.”

“It’s not luck, Brie,” he pointed out. “It’s skill, and you’ve got it.”

I laughed. “Do I? It didn’t feel like it today.”

He dropped the empty pint glass back on the table and pushed up off out of the booth. “You need to forget about today. It’s gone. Over. Tomorrow you’ll get back in the gym and your body will know what to do. Give yourself a break.”

I slid out of the booth after him; I knew there was no point in resisting if he was ready to go. He dropped a few bills on the table to cover the beer and Colby’s ego, then ushered me toward the door with his hand wrapped tight around my elbow. I inhaled a deep breath, feeling the stress of the day start to melt away. His body was right behind mine, steady like a rock as he led me out to the parking lot.

“Thanks for that,” I said as he held the passenger door open to his truck. When I glanced up, his gaze was on my mouth, hovering there for a moment before he backed up.

“It’s nothing,” he assured me, rounding the front of the truck to get to the driver’s side.

I hopped in and buckled my seatbelt. As he put the truck in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot, I leaned forward to turn on the radio, trying to find something to drown out the silence.

“It’s broken,” he said, catching my hand before I could turn the dial. “And I’ve been too lazy to fix it.”

I smiled and settled back into my seat. “Or maybe you just like the silence.”

He didn’t argue and when I glanced over, I could see him gripping the steering wheel with both hands.

“I need to text the girls to let them know I don’t need a ride home.”

He shook his head. “They’re the ones who told me where you were.”

My brows arched; I hadn’t even questioned how he’d found me.

“Did you ask them where I was?”

His gaze was on the road and his knuckles were turning white on the steering wheel.

I smirked. “You were worried about me, weren’t you?”

I liked the idea of him thinking about me, wanting to check in and make sure I was okay. The fact that he didn’t answer only confirmed my suspicions.

“You were.”

He still didn’t reply, but a slow Cheshire grin overtook my features. I leaned closer, focusing on his sharp profile. That jaw. Those cheekbones. I wanted to brush my lips across them, listening for his quick intake of breath. He was completely tensed, ready to fight, but there was no need.

“I thought you didn’t play with girls, Erik,” I said, throwing his words back at him.

The game was over; I’d won.

With one quick jerk of the steering wheel, he whipped the truck to the right. The tires thumped against the lane dividers and I lurched to the left, holding my hands out to steady myself between the car door and the center console.

He kept driving along the shoulder until we reached a line of oaks with branches hanging low over the road. He slammed on the brakes and I jerked forward. He killed the engine and the headlights faded. The sounds of the forest invaded the cabin, owls hooting and frogs croaking.