Chapter 41
forty-one
. . .
RORY
The pool echoes with the slap of water as Coach Owens calls out the start of the next set.
Diving in, I pull hard through the first hundred meters, before my thoughts drift again to the look on Summer’s face when she showed me the closet of Coveys.
Her paintings.
Her heart on canvas, layered in brushstrokes she’d hidden from the world.
From me.
It had hit me like a wave. Not just the fact that Summer was the Covey artist, but that she’d trusted me enough to reveal herself.
I surface at the end of the lane and pull my goggles up, blinking water away.
“Shields! You’re missing the interval,” Coach Owens barks.
Fuck.
There’s no time to rest, so I adjust my goggles, then push hard off the wall to start the next interval, determined to catch up.
My head is all over the place. Summer’s reveal isn’t the only thing messing with my emotions.
With each stroke, images from last night flash through my head.
The way Summer had trusted me to play with her. How pretty she looked when she came around that paintbrush deep inside her.
The sight of her lips wrapped around my cock. And the way she’d called me a “good boy.” My chest squeezes at the recollection.
Then, after she’d revealed her art to me, we talked over a late dinner before I carried her into the shower and washed her body. Scrubbing away flecks of paint on her arms and neck before I buried my face between her thighs again.
Waking up this morning with Summer’s sleep warm body wrapped around mine made it nearly impossible to get out of bed. Beneath the covers in the early morning light, we’d teased and explored each other again. I’ll never get enough of her.
With my fingers buried between Summer’s legs and my mouth around her nipple, my eyes happened to catch the time on the alarm clock.
At that moment I had to choose. Either leave my wife unsatisfied or be late to practice.
So, I was late to practice.
And I’m never late.
It was only ten minutes, but it was noticeable. The rest of the team had already started their dry-land exercises when I made my appearance on the pool deck, and I’ve been struggling to catch up ever since.
The more concerning issue was the moment I woke up with Summer curled into my chest and I’d wondered what it would be like to skip my alarm. I’d let my mind explore a life that didn’t involve early morning wakeups, three practices a day, and a schedule jam packed full of meetings, appointments, and appearances.
There were a few times during my injury rehab that I wondered if I’d get the privilege of keeping my rigorous schedule. The idea that I might not be able to have it is what kept me going. I’d fought my way back to it, determined to not let anyone tell me when I was done with my swimming career. Maybe that’s the difference. Now, having Summer in my life, knowing she supports me, is making the idea of life after swimming not as terrifying.
It’s with the thought of what Summer and I could be that surges me into the home stretch of the final set.
I glide into the wall and look up to find Logan and Eli hanging on the ropes on either side of my lane.
Logan’s there grinning as he shakes water from his hair. “Whoa. Did Captain Consistency miss his send-off?”
“Or maybe he’s just distracted.” Eli smirks. “You okay, man? Blink twice if you’re thinking about your fake wife again.”
I’m busted, and I can’t even be mad about it.
I wipe water from my face and try not to smile. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you’re fine. That was the slowest set of hundreds I’ve seen you do since…ever.”
“Judging from that smile on your face, you’re not taking it to heart.”
“I’ll get in some extra laps.”
Coach Owens approaches and it’s clear he wants to talk to me.
“We’ll catch you later,” Logan says, pushing off the rope to swim for the ladder. After a nod, Eli follows behind him.
I climb out of the pool, immediately noticing the difference in my body. Today wasn’t about my body not being able to keep up, it was the fact that my head wasn’t in it.
“You’re off today. You good?” Owens asks, arms crossed while his firm gaze studies me.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“You missed your interval. Twice. That’s not like you.”
“I know. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Coach had instructed me to stay focused. To not let what happens outside of the pool affect me here, and I never thought it would. Nothing has before. But this thing developing between me and Summer is different. It feels bigger than swimming.
I let my fingers thread through the water. I never imagined anything could be more important than this.
“She get in your head?” His voice is quieter now.
I crack a small grin. “She’s under my skin, Coach.”
He nods. “Either jump in with both feet or shake it off before Nationals, because if you’re trying to do both, you’re gonna drown.”
I consider what he’s saying. It’s not an ultimatum, but a reality check.
If I can’t figure out my feelings for Summer and have that part of my life settled, then I’m going to keep struggling. And I don’t have time to struggle. This is my last shot at gold and securing my legacy.
I want to finish on my own terms, but more than that, I want Summer beside me for all of it.
“Got it.”
“Good. Now go ice that knee.” Coach Owens walks off to leave me with my thoughts.
Normally after a disappointing practice, I’d force myself to swim extra laps or watch race footage, but even though I was off-pace today, I can’t bring myself to enforce my old rules. Slogging through more laps isn’t going to get my head straight. I need something else.
In the locker room, the air is warm and humid. Most of the guys have already showered and are walking around with towels slung low on their waists. A few feet away, a locker door bangs while loud voices echo off the cement walls.
When I enter my locker section, Logan is pulling a Pooh Bear with his t-shirt on and no pants, so I avert my eyes and grab my phone from my locker.
How are the pups this morning?
Summer
Full of energy. And Cal caught a fish!
She sends me an image of Cal holding up a tiny fish and I like the photo.
I want to take you somewhere later. Secret spot. Perfect view. Thought you might want to bring your paints.
Summer
Are you trying to seduce me with scenic views?
Is it working?
Summer
Maybe. What’s the catch?
No catch. Just a pretty overlook, some snacks, and a guy who likes spending time with you.
Summer
I thought you said you wanted to take me. Who’s this guy you speak of?
I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
Summer
It was the perfect set up.
To clear things up, your devoted husband will be in attendance. Lots of snacks and a cozy blanket…the necessities.
Summer
Okay. I’m in. See you soon!
I’m about to respond to Summer when Logan’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“No fucking way!” Logan shouts.
I look up to find Logan wearing shorts now while he glances at the phone Charlie’s holding out to him.
“Cap, have you seen this?” Charlie asks, handing me his phone.
With my head focused on Summer, it takes me a moment to process what I’m looking at.
It’s a candid photo of Whitney and Connor. He’s got his arm wrapped around her shoulders, smiling down at her, while Whitney is looking up at him laughing. They’re in their swimsuits, so there’s a lot of skin touching. I remind myself that’s not because they want it to be but because it’s the nature of their wardrobe. There’s another one where Connor has his arm wrapped around her waist while they pose at what appears to be a dinner with program directors and foundation chairs.
It’s a business dinner. There’s no reason for him to be touching her like that.
“These were posted to the Rising Tide Swim Foundation’s social media,” Charlie comments.
Beside me, Xio leans in. “Damn. They look cozy.”
“Is something going on between Whitney and Connor?” Eli asks.
I open my mouth to deny it, but then I realize I don’t know if it would be accurate. I haven’t spoken to Whitney since she left for the tour. It had been a surprise to learn Connor was going with her, but I’d seen it as a break from Connor, and when Summer brought up the idea of Connor and Whitney spending a lot of time together, I’d brushed it off.
Whitney knows my history with Connor. She’s also a smart woman who I don’t believe would be charmed by Connor’s flashy, smooth-talking persona. Outside of his swimming talent, he’s a walking red flag.
My gaze drops to the photo of his arm around her waist again.
If Connor’s trying to pull some bullshit by messing with my sister, I’ll do more than dominate him in the pool.
“They look good together.” Finn smirks, but then catches my hard gaze and grins sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“They’re working together, that’s all.” I push the words out, then make a mental note to call Whitney later.
I think about Summer’s advice to fix things with Connor. To let the tension go but part of me is still struggling to put effort towards the guy when he’s shown no sign of changing his ways.
There’s nothing I can do about Whitney and Connor right now, so I grab my towel and head for the showers.
Under the spray, I roll my shoulders back and let the warm water slide over my tired muscles. It’s this time that my mind usually fixates on the future. But the interesting thing is I’m not spiraling about the Olympics. Or obsessing over times or splits or whether Coach Owens thinks I’m slacking.
No, my thoughts are drawn to the woman who paints in overalls and bare feet. The one who kisses like she doesn’t trust it but needs it anyway. The woman who framed her own damn work and was finally brave enough to show it to me. And one day, I hope she shows the world.
My wife.
Swimming has always come first. That was the entire reason for marrying Summer.
Maybe this is what it feels like when the grip on your old dreams loosens, not because you don’t care anymore, but because something new is taking root.
Owens was right. I need to get my head on straight. To focus.
But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of everything.
It’s only the beginning.