Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(51)

“Before we get started today, I have two things to announce,” Erik said, glancing over his shoulder to the rest of the team while he continued wrapping my ankle in yellow pre-wrap. I needed him to hurry up or I was going to spontaneously combust.

“We’re leaving for Rio two days early.”

My eyes widened.

“What?!” Lexi asked. “Why?”

“The Olympic Committee wants us there for press.”

My heart pounded. No. We were supposed to have another full week in Seattle before we left. How is this possible? June and Rosie shook their heads, just as distraught by the news as I was.

“Calm down,” Erik said, tossing my pre-wrap aside with a touch too much aggression. “It’s two days. We still have plenty of time to train, and even if we didn’t, every single one of you is ready to compete.”

He turned back to my ankle and propped it up on his thigh so he could use both hands to wrap the white athletic tape around it. Is having my ankle on his thigh supposed to be intimate? Because it’s making me sweat. Suddenly, I felt like leaving for Rio as soon as possible, just to get some space.

“I’ve been very impressed with everyone’s skills, conditioning, strength—your hardware,” he said. “But that’s only half the battle. What I’d like to see you work on is your software, your mental toughness, so I’ve drawn up some unorthodox training schedules for these last few days before we leave.”

We sat in silence, waiting for him to continue. Surely he wouldn’t do anything too torturous to us this close to our departure. Right?

“Well?” Lexi interrupted. “What is it?”

“I’ve identified something unique you each need to work on.” He tilted his head to June. “I’ve been telling you for the last few weeks you’re too stiff on floor, so I’ve signed you up for two hip hop dance classes before we leave.”

June’s eyes nearly fell out of her skull. “Hip hop? No! That’ll mess up my choreography.”

“It’s not optional,” he replied with a hard stare before turning his gaze to Molly and Rosie.

“You two will be taking a boxing lesson.”

Rosie’s eyes widened. “Boxing?”

“You’re both too timid on vault, like you’re afraid you’re going to get hit. So, I want you to get to do the hitting and build some confidence.” At Rosie’s wide eyes, he continued, “Don’t worry, you’ll have a trainer who knows you’re both competing soon. Injury prevention is key.”

Both of them nodded, glancing to one another with excitement once they realized it wouldn’t be too bad.

“What about me, Coach?” Lexi said, waggling her brows.

“Ballet.”

Her face fell. “Ballet? That’s not really my thing.”

“Exactly. I think a ballet class will balance you out. A little grace never hurt anyone.”

She mumbled under her breath as Erik’s gaze turned back to me. The weight of his attention was almost too much to bear. I wanted to turn away or glance down, but I held his piercing gaze and tried not to cower. My lips were dry, but I didn’t lick them; I didn’t want him to think I was inviting him to kiss me or something. Instead, I locked my arms tighter around my knee as he spoke.

“Brie, will be taking a yoga class.”

I furrowed my brow. Yoga? What was that supposed to teach me? How to become one with my chakras?

“Sounds good,” I said, turning away just as he finished wrapping my ankle.

“No argument?” he asked, standing to tower over me. He tossed the tape down and it rolled against my thigh.

I smiled a private smile and shook my head. “I could use the peace and quiet. Last night kind of wore me out.”

There.

It was out.

If he wouldn’t bring up the previous night, then I would.

A devilish smirk was the only reply I needed. He most definitely remembered. Even if he was putting on a show for everyone else, there was still a war waging on inside him.

Good.

It only seemed fair that we were both going insane.





Chapter Twenty-One


Brie





Sleep became elusive those last few days before Rio. I’d stay up late, switching positions and telling my body I was comfortable, and then I’d wake up at the crack of dawn feeling as if I hadn’t slept at all. My mother called often, more nervous than ever, but I screened them, opting for replies through text messages whenever I could.

I didn’t want her to know I was starting to crack, and I knew one word spoken over the phone was all it would take for her to know the truth. She would insist I was carrying too much weight on my shoulders, that I needed to relax and have fun. All the while, I’d have to ignore how tired her voice sounded, ignore the shrieking babies and blasting car horns from around the apartment complex. My mother was hopelessly compassionate; it was why she’d gotten into social work in the first place. It definitely wasn’t for the money. She wanted to be someone’s voice when they were beaten down, lost, forgotten—but now it was my turn to stand up for her. She deserved a better life and I wouldn’t let myself rest until I gave it to her.

Birds chirped through our bedroom window and I stretched my arms overhead, staring up at the bottom of Molly’s bunk. She was still snoring softly, lost in sleep. For a moment, I tried to will myself back to sleep as well, but I knew it was no use. Instead, I pushed the blankets aside and got up out of bed. Usually, I’d throw on my sneakers and go on a run, but we’d had a hard workout the day before and I knew we’d have another one later. Instead, I padded down the stairs in search of my favorite distraction: baking.