The question lodged in my brain like a pebble in a shoe—small but impossible to ignore.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want … I want the safety of what I have withTheWriteGuy.But I also want the spark I feel with Talon. And I don’t know if I’m allowed to want both.”
“You’re allowed to want both,” Cali said firmly. “But eventually, you’ll have to choose. And when you do, it should be because of how he makes you feel in the real world, not just on a screen.”
I bit my lip. “So you’re saying I should meet him.”
“I’m saying,” Cali countered, “you should only meet him ifyouwant to. Not because you’re afraid of disappointing him.”
Roxie nodded. “And meanwhile, maybe stop fighting what’s happening with Talon. You light up when you talk about him, Liv. That’s not nothing.”
I sat back, my heart a tangled mess but a little lighterthan before. Leave it to my friends to drag the truth out of me, whether I liked it or not.
“Ugh,” I groaned, pushing my hair out of my face. “Why can’t life be simple?”
“Because simple is boring,” Roxie said.
“And because you’d overanalyze it anyway,” Cali added.
I laughed despite myself, the knot in my stomach loosening just a fraction. They were right. I didn’t have to decide everything today. But someday soon, I would.
And that thought was both terrifying … and thrilling.
CHAPTER 23
TALON
Itouched the wall and came up gasping, arms trembling from the final sprint. Coach’s whistle blew, sharp and merciful, signaling the end of the set.
“Good work, Everhart,” she barked. “You’re starting to look like someone who might make the Olympic team.”
I managed a grim smile as I hauled myself out of the pool. Second training session of the day, and with only five weeks left until the Trials, I still felt like I was falling short. Water streamed down my skin, pooling at my feet, but the ache in my body wasn’t just from exertion. It was the load of everything else I carried—the things I still hadn’t said.
I grabbed my towel, rubbed it over my head, and then froze when I spotted her.
Livvi.
She leaned against the bleachers, her hair pulled back in a messy knot, wearing jean shorts that showedoff her legs. The humid air had flushed her cheeks pink, and when our eyes met, she smiled.
I swear my heart forgot how to beat.
I smiled back, and just like that, the ache in my lungs didn’t matter so much.
“You survived,” she said as I slung my towel around me.
“Barely.” I shook out my wet hair, earning a laugh from her. “Pretty sure Coach is trying to kill me.”
“She doesn’t look that murderous,” she teased, nodding toward where Coach was scribbling notes on a clipboard.
“That’s what makes her dangerous.”
Her laughter rang across the humid space, and it felt like oxygen.
By the time I’d showered and changed, she was waiting for me in the lobby, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I approached, slipping it into her pocket.
“You ready?” she asked.
I nodded, and we fell in step together as we left the Wilson Center. We had planned to meet at my apartment to eat dinner at my place tonight so she could see Sapphire. She must have been studying for her final exams at the library and swung over to the pool to meet up with me instead. Which—I wasn’t complaining. This was definitely something I could get used to.