Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(93)

He groaned. “Don’t ask me, the damned oven burned them!”

“You’re baking these for the neighbor across the street?”

“Yeah, Brie thought it’d be a good idea.”

I smiled and turned away from the window. “So you take love advice from Brie, but not from me?”

He chuckled. “When’s the last time you put time or effort into your love life?”

I scowled. “Just a few weeks ago, I had a friend over and we—”

“No, I’m not talking about opening a bottle of wine before you take a girl up to your room.”

Jesus.

“I don’t have much time for all that.”

“Take some advice from an old man: make the time. You’re going to wake up one day seventy-nine years old and wishing you’d made the damn time.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“How’s Brie?”

I frowned.

“She’s fine.”

“Have you been seeing much of her in Rio?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to figure out where he was going with the line of questioning. “I’m her coach, remember?”

He hummed and I could hear his amusement.

“I think, for the first time, you’ve met your match.”

My gut clenched.

“Until we’re done with the Olympics, it doesn’t really matter.”

He chuckled. “I’ll tell you one thing: if you expect love to come when it’s convenient, you’ll be waiting your entire life. If you love her like I suspect you do, I wouldn’t wait. I would—what was it you said?—ask to borrow a cup of sugar. Then tell her before it’s too late.”

I hated being scolded. I hated that he was right even more.

“What does it even matter?” I persisted, airing the questions that’d been floating through my head the last few days. “She lives in Texas and my home is in Seattle. In five days, we’ll be flying to opposite sides of the country.”

He hummed. “Yes, I suppose you could go back to Seattle after Rio, back to that lonely life of yours, or you could do what you should have done ten years ago.”

I squeezed my eyes closed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “All right. Enough with the lectures for today.”

“Fine. Tell me how the food is down there. I’ve been eating burnt cookies for the last few days.”

My grandfather, while annoying, was very rarely wrong. I knew my relationship with Brie was complicated, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. I didn’t exactly know what I wanted yet, but I knew I couldn’t lose her. The location, the logistics, the reality of what our feelings meant could come later; for the moment I needed to tell her I wanted her. Simple as that.

The team was already warming up inside the training facility when I arrived. Brie was stretching beside Molly with her headphones in place. Last I’d seen her, she’d been dressed to the nines, beautiful and made up for a party or something. Now she was back to the Brie I was used to, the Brie I dreamed about every night.

“Morning Coach,” June said with a smile.

I nodded and walked past her, heading toward Brie. She stiffened as I got close, but she made no move to glance up at me.

“Brie, can I speak with you for a second?”

Molly glanced between us, waiting for Brie to respond. When she didn’t, she nudged her with her elbow and pointed up at me. With a subtle eye roll, Brie tugged her headphones off and glared up at me with cold indifference.

The night before I’d seen a softer, vulnerable side to Brie that was just as appealing as the spitfire I’d had to deal with for the last few weeks. Now, I suspected I might not ever see that side again.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes.

Her hair was tugged up into a severe bun. Her dainty features were breathtaking, but her eyes and her tight frown warned me away.

“I asked if I could speak with you for a minute.”

I motioned to the door of the gym and turned, hoping she’d follow after me. A moment later, I heard her emit a low groan as she pushed to her feet.

“This won’t take long,” she assured Molly, loud enough that I knew I was meant to hear as well.

Of course she’s still pissed about last night. I should have stopped her from walking away.

I stepped out into the hallway and held the gym door open for her. She was wearing her leotard and warm-up pants, rolled at her hips. When she noticed me looking at her, she crossed her arms over her chest and shot me a glare.

“What do you want?”

Her words were sharp, guarded.

“I want to talk about last night.”

She laughed, sad and annoyed. Her gaze shifted to the wall beside us and then back to me, darker than before. “Actions speak louder than words. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit.”

“Right. I have practice to get to, is that all?”

No. She wasn’t going to do this. She didn’t get to decide this was over because I hadn’t thrown her over my shoulder and hauled her off into the sunset the night before. I deserved one night to gather my thoughts. I deserved more than a quick dismissal.

“Last night you told me you wanted more between us, more than what we’ve been doing the last few weeks.”