Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(98)

So that’s what I told her.

I’d had no intention of laying my cards out so candidly. Even to my own ears, I’d sounded like a caveman, declaring that she was mine and she had no say in the matter—and well, maybe she didn’t. She’d told me how she felt and though she pushed back in the gym, I knew she didn’t want me to walk away for good. She wanted me to make a bold move, to chase her and beg if necessary, and though I wasn’t accustomed to forcing my way into a woman’s heart, I knew this time was different.

The same qualities I’d come to love about Brie made up the wedge she was using to drive us apart. She thought she could push me aside for a few days until she was ready to pick us back up again, but truthfully, it wasn’t possible. The moment I admitted to myself that I wanted more with Brie, there was no holding back, and even at that moment, as I rounded the trail back toward the start of the village, I knew at the end of the Olympics, I wouldn’t be going back to Seattle.

Texas was a place I’d avoided for the last ten years. I’d visited every now and then, but I hadn’t ever considered the idea of moving back for good. I’d settled into my role of spiteful son and hadn’t let my mother or grandfather nudge me from that comfortable seat. After ten years, the grudge had grown like a tree, sinking deep roots into scars that refused to heal. The resentful leaves had bloomed and blocked out any hope for reconciliation—and yet when my mother had called from the emergency room, hysterical over the idea that my father would die before we made peace, I’d felt the branches shiver.

I didn’t think my father and I would ever have a normally functioning relationship, but in the last few weeks, I’d started to throw around hypotheticals: What if I offered him forgiveness? Would he reject it? Could we both put the past in the past?

In the quiet of my run, the answers could sometimes be heard.

Would I ever treat him as a father?

No.

Would I ever spend time with him the way I’d wanted to as a child?

Never.

I could forgive him, but I wasn’t looking to build a relationship with him. I didn’t entertain the farce of us becoming an all-American family, but I could see the value in peace. The stale anger in my heart no longer served me, and with it gone, I could dedicate that space to something much more important: loving Brie Watson.





Chapter Thirty-Eight


Brie





“Hudson invited me to watch a movie at his condo later,” Rosie said at dinner later that night.

I cut the chicken on my plate, sawing it until it was all but shredded. The dull knife screeched on the ceramic and turned everyone’s attention to me.

“Uhh, Brie?”

I glanced up to see Molly, Lexi, and Rosie eyeing me suspiciously from around the circular table.

“What?”

Lexi narrowed her eyes. “Do I need to hide all the sharp objects in the condo?”

I rolled my eyes and let it drop, proving to her that I was fine.

“What were you saying, Rosie?” I asked, trying to divert the attention away from me.

“Hudson wants me to hang out tonight.”

“That’s great!” Molly said with a big smile.

I tried on a smile of my own, but it felt awkward, lopsided, and tight. Lexi noticed, watching me carefully. I shook my head, trying to convince her not to bring Erik up in front of Molly and Rosie. I felt like a ball of emotion and I wasn’t sure when it would boil over. I’d cry or scream or fight if given the chance, so for the moment I needed to focus on something simple like cutting my chicken into tinier and tinier pieces. I reached for my knife again, but Lexi beat me to it.

“Okay, cool it. You’ve officially chopped that bird up into individual atoms. Maybe try eating some of it instead.”

Molly and Rosie laughed with her and I felt my cheeks redden. Could they see how uncomfortable I was sitting there with them? Could they see how close I was to falling apart?

“Are you two ready for the competition tomorrow?” Rosie asked Molly and me with a cheerful smile.

My stomach sank with the reminder of what tomorrow would bring. I was so consumed with my personal life that I kept forgetting where I was: in Rio de Janeiro—oh yeah, and competing at the Olympics, trying to change the trajectory of my life. Funny how all that seemed to take a back seat to my situation with Erik.

So funny.

“I just wish you and Lexi were competing with us,” Molly said, reaching over to squeeze Rosie’s arm.

Olympic competition format dictated that only two gymnasts from each country were eligible to compete in the individual all-around finals. Molly and I had been chosen because of our scores during the qualifying rounds, and while I was sad for my teammates, Lexi, June, and Rosie had all qualified for a few individual event finals. I had no doubt they’d each earn another medal or two before they left Rio.

Rosie shrugged. “I wish we could all compete in all-around finals, but you two really deserve it. Besides, I’ll be back in 2020.”

“Not me!” Lexi said. “I’ll be in Mexico, watching the games while spanking a naughty cabana boy.”

I laughed and the sound caused three pairs of eyes to shift in my direction.

“She’s alive!” Lexi joked, poking me in the shoulder.

“Sorry,” I said with a shrug. “Just nervous about tomorrow.”