“Uh-huh.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Sure, Livvi. Whatever you say.”
I turned back to my screen, forcing my fingers to type. But even as I tried to focus, I couldn’t helpsneaking glances at him from the corner of my eye.I’m going to a swim meet tomorrow to watch Talon Everhart, who personally invited me,my brain whispered.
I couldn’t believe I was in this situation. Just a few days ago, I’d never even spoken to Talon. And now, he sat across from me, smirking like he owned the place, had waited for me here, and he wanted me to go watch and cheer him on at his swim meet. Me.
And somehow, despite my best intentions, the idea of going—even watching him—made my stomach twist in ways I couldn’t explain. How had things escalated this quickly?
I straightened my notes, shoved my pens into a neat line, and took a deep breath.Focus, Livvi. Don’t let him get to you.
I reminded myself that I had a plan, goals that didn’t involve getting tangled up in the havoc a man would surely cause. No matter how tempting the distraction, no matter how much my body reacted every time he smirked or leaned closer, I couldn’t let him and those blue eyes derail me.
But even as I tried to bury myself in lines of code, part of me couldn’t help replaying our conversation, the way he had asked me to the swim meet, and the image of how I imagined he’d cut through the water effortlessly, like he belonged there—and maybe, I had secretly wanted to be there too.
I shook my head, forcing a smile I hoped looked like pure determination, and tapped at the keyboard.Tomorrow, I’ll be ready. Focused and in control.
Silence surrounded us again, punctuated only by the soft clatter of keys and the occasional shuffle of papers. Outside, the sun dipped lower, painting the shelves with golden light. Somehow, the thought of the weekend, of the swim meet, made the quiet study room feel a little charged, a little alive.
I didn’t know what was coming next—not with him, not with this new and unexpected part of my life.
Oh, and I couldn’t forget my growing feelings forTheWriteGuyeither.
Just days ago, my life hadn’t involvedanymen, and now somehow it includedtwo, both demanding pieces of my attention in completely different ways. For now, I had my space, my work, and my resolve. And that had to be enough.
Except, I was worried one weekend at a swim meet might have the possibility of changing everything. And I wasn’t sure if that thought made me more frightened … or more excited.
CHAPTER 8
TALON
The sharp bite of chlorine filled my lungs as I inhaled, rolling my shoulders out one more time. The pool deck buzzed with movement—teammates warming up, coaches barking last-minute reminders, the starter’s whistle cutting through it all. I’d been here a hundred times before, but today felt different.
Because she was here.
I hadn’t spotted Livvi right away, not until I was behind the block. She’d slipped in quietly, no sign, no banner, no shouting—just there, sitting halfway up the bleachers with her hands folded in her lap. For a second, a band seemed to cinch around my lungs with something I couldn’t name. Gratitude, maybe. It had been a long time since anyone outside my team had shown up just for me. My mom was out of the picture, and my dad hadn’t been to a meet in years.
The whistle sounded again, and I climbed up on the block. And though I’d heard it what feltlike a million times, the wordstake your markalways sent a jolt of adrenaline through me. Once the buzzer went off, the world narrowed to the water in the lane before me.
I dove, slicing into the pool, cool and familiar. My muscles engaged automatically, years of training taking over. Stroke, breathe, kick—my body knew what to do. The sound of the crowd blurred into muffled echoes above the surface, replaced by the rush of water in my ears and the hammer of my heartbeat.
Flip turn. Push. Streamline.
I kept my focus locked on the black line running beneath me, a metronome for every stroke. My lungs burned, my arms screamed, but that was normal. That was where I thrived.
And still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew she was watching.
It didn’t feel like pressure. More like a distraction I didn’t mind having. Weird how knowing she was here made the laps feel sharper, like I wanted to hit the wall faster just because she’d see it.
The final wall came fast. I stretched, my fingertips hitting the pad. My chest heaved as I yanked off my cap, blinking up at the scoreboard.
Time: a new personal best.
The guys around me whooped, slapping the water in celebration, but my eyes strayed to the bleachers before I could stop myself.
Livvi was on her feet, clapping. Not loudly, not drawing attention. Just enough for me to know she’d seen it—and that she cared.
I didn’t get long to think about that, though. Butterfly was up next—the hundred. My race. The one I’d been grinding for all year, chasing a time that would put me in the conversation for making the USA team.
I rolled out my shoulders, feeling that familiar twitch in my muscles. The one that said everything I’d done in the weight room, in practice, in early mornings and late nights—this was where it had to come together.