“Why is that again?” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, leaning against the table. “And don’t give me the lame excuse of wanting to be away from people. You don’t seem to care when women are hanging all over you.”
Was that jealousy? I searched her face but found nothing. Just annoyance. Still, maybe there was more.
“Is all this hostility because you’re jealous?” I teased, fully leaning into the playboy image everyone had pegged me for. Including her.
She scrunched up her face in disgust. “Barf.”
I laughed, louder than I intended. I’d definitely never had a woman react to me like that before.
“For someone who thinks it’s so awful to be with a guy like me, you sure know a lot about my social habits.”
She fidgeted, looking away. “Not because I’m jealous or anything like that, but when I can’t go twenty feet without someone saying your name, it’s hard to block it out completely.”
I chuckled. Sure, I was popular in town and on campus, but a constant topic of conversation? Nah. It was mostly just annoying. That’s why I hid in places like this.
“Well, even guys like me need space.” I gestured around the secluded room.
“I don’t feel even the slightest bit sorry for you.” Her tone was sharp, no sympathy in sight.
“Why not?” I grinned, enjoying the back-and-forth more than I’d let on. “You can’t find it in your heart to pity the popular, attractive, successful athlete?”
She burst out laughing, seeming to surprise herself as her loud guffaw filled the room. “Nope.”
For a moment, I wanted to tell her the truth—that I hated the spotlight, the pressure, how everyone expected me to be this confident, carefree guy who had the Olympics in the bag. That even in the water, where I was supposed to feel weightless and in control, there were days it felt like I was fighting to keep my head above the surface. The fame, the medals, the trophies—they just added more weight to carry, making me feel like I was drowning and running out of time. I could already hear the muffled roar of the crowd fading, replaced by the deafening silence of life outside the pool.
And in less than four months, the clock would run out. I’d have to climb out of the pool for good and slip into the suit-and-tie life my father had planned for me, armed with the business degree I’d never even wanted.
She tapped her pen against her notes, slow andsteady, eyes narrowing just slightly, like she could see right through me and was waiting for me to confirm it.
But instead, I tested the waters.
I looked down at my keyboard, unable to meet her eyes. “What if I’m hiding behind a mask? Putting on a show? Too much of a wuss to admit I’m actually an introvert who’d rather spend the evening with a book than on some wild night out.”
Her pen stilled mid-tap. For a second, she just studied me, head tilted like she was deciding if I was serious.
A beat of silence passed, and then she laughed—sharp, like a punch to the gut. “Yeah, right. I don’t think you’re that good of an actor. Nice try. Your made-up sob story isn’t getting you this room.”
At least I knew my front was convincing. If she wasn’t buying the real me, I guessed I could keep playing the part.
I forced a smile, one I hoped looked genuine. “Worth a try.”
She shook her head, chuckling. “You could have gone with something more believable. Like hiding from your crazy ex-girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” I tried to cover my disappointment. “That probably would’ve worked better.”
Her gaze swept over me. “Wait—is that a real possibility?”
I caught the shift in her eyes, reading more than just curiosity.
“No ex-girlfriends,” I said quickly.
I hadn’t done the girlfriend thing in years. Too much time demanded, too many expectations I wasn’t ready to meet. And I wasn’t about to tell her I’d rather be locked away writing on my laptop than out with anyone. No one knew about the story I’d been building online—hundreds of thousands of reads, an anonymous secret I kept close, not even sharing it with my brother, Ridge, or my best friend, Ledger.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re too much of a player to be tethered to one woman.”
More like I couldn’t trust anyone enough to share all of me. But I kept that to myself.
“Exactly. Who wants to be tethered?”