Tell Me Tomorrow (Adair Swimming #2)

1. Prologue

J une 2023

“Come on, pick up,” I mutter into the phone, anxiously tapping my foot. “Seriously, Bryce, answer the damn phone!”

The ringing stops.

“Hey, what’s up?”

I release a long breath before talking. “So, you know how you imploded your love life, again, and quit your job?”

Bryce groans. “Obviously. Are you seriously calling to remind me how much of an idiot I am for losing her, again?”

“No, but I can if you need a reminder.” The last time my best friend had lost Josie Martin, I’d bitten my tongue. I’d been nothing more than the supportive best friend I knew he needed me to be, but to lose the same girl twice, he was a dumbass. And I was happy to make sure he knew it. “I’m always happy to call you a dumbass.”

“Absolutely not, Carter,” he replies. “Why’d you call if not to annoy the hell out of me about this?”

“Were you serious when you said you wanted to leave Omaha the other night?”

He hesitates; a sure sign he’s weighing the pros and cons of what it would mean to do so. It would be a way to leave Josie behind, once and for all, but we both know he’s not ready to say goodbye. “I don’t know. Why?”

I pick at the hem of my sweatshirt. “I might have done something stupid.”

“When in the history of ever has it been a good idea to start a sentence like that, Carter? What did you do?”

“I bought a pool.”

Silence. Dead silence follows my declaration. It’s such a stuttering silence, I pull the phone from my ear to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected. It hasn’t.

“What do you mean you bought a pool?” The question comes out slowly. “Like you bought a plastic pool your new dog can play in, but you also forgot to mention you got a dog?”

Part of me wishes it were something that adorable. “No, dude, I bought a club. It’s in South Carolina.”

“How did you even find out about a pool in a completely different state?”

I don’t want to admit the truth, but I know I have to. Plus, if there is anyone who can understand what I’m going through, it’s him. “I was doom scrolling the other night, feeling lost as to what will come next. You know, the usual.”

“You have a year until the Olympics, Carter.” There’s a sympathetic note to his voice. “You don’t need to be worrying about that right now.”

“You and I both know it’s easier said than done,” I challenge. “It’s going to fly by and then I’ll be done. It’ll be over.”

I’ve dedicated my whole life to this career, to be an Olympic swimmer. I not only made it happen once, but twice, and am trying one more time. If I make it to Paris next summer, it’ll be my final Olympics. It’ll also be the only one I ever compete in without Bryce. Thirty years of hard work will come down to mere moments, and then I’ll find myself staring into the abyss.

Bryce hasn’t said anything.

“I want to have a plan,” I continue. “I want to know what’s coming next, like you did.”

His laugh is bitter. “Oh, yeah, I totally knew what I was doing. I came to Omaha, took a job in sales I hate, broke the heart of the woman I love, and quit my job. It’s been a productive four months for me.”

“So that job didn’t work out, but this one could.”

“What one could?” He presses.

Oh, right. I need to tell him about my plan.

“Which is why I called,” I explain. “I bought this pool in South Carolina; it needs some work, but I figured we could run it together, dude. You understand all the business stuff. I studied sports management—we could make this work. We could build a great team here and host professional meets. Give kids the chances we had.”

“I haven’t even seen the place, and you want me to move across the country to run it?” The way he asks the question tells me he’s already made up his mind. And he’s in. “How many pools are there?”

“Two. One indoor and one outdoor,” I rattle off, ready to answer any question he has. “They’re both long course.”

He hums and I wonder if he’s taking notes. “Does it have a gym facility?”

I consult the notes laid out on the cluttered kitchen island before me. “Yes, but it’ll need a lot of work.”

“How much work are we talking here, Carter?”

“We’ll need to hire someone.” Getting the place up and running probably won’t happen before the Olympics, but we could get started. Especially if he was out there while I stayed in Georgia to train.

“You really already bought it?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “I saw it online, drove out one weekend, and signed the papers on the spot.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” The question isn’t accusatory, but I can hear the worry in his tone. He’s trying to figure out where I am.

What he’s failing to remember is the fact I’ve gone to therapy since I was in college and was always the one who had a good grasp on his mental health. “You were busy with Josie, and I needed to decide for myself. If you don’t want to do this, I can find—”

“And miss the chance to run a club with you? Hell no.”

A grin overtakes my features. “You’re in?”

“Hell yeah I am,” Bryce assures me. “When do you want me out there?”

“Mid-July?” I ask. “We’ll need to get you added to the deed and all the paperwork before I head to training camp before Worlds.”

I hear him clicking away at something and, for the first time, wonder if he’s at work. Maybe I should feel guilty about bothering him, but what can he really get done in the last two days of employment? It’s not like he has anything to lose. “I can do that.”

“Sweet! I need to get back to the pool, but we’ll talk more about this later?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “Hey, Carter?”

I was about to hang up when he grabbed my attention. “Yeah?”

“Whatever happens over the next twelve months, you’re going to be fine.” My cheeks heat up at his ability to read me so well. After nearly twenty-five years of friendship, it makes sense. “Even without this backup plan, you’d figure it out, and you’d be fine.”

“But this is a great backup plan, right?” I press, not wanting to talk about my fears. “It’s going to work out?”

“It’s going to be great, Carter,” he assures me.

I deflate against the counter I’m leaning on. There is no one I’d rather do this with than him. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“You have right around three weeks to get Josie to forgive you and convince her to move out here with you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he groans. “Go to practice, you ass.”

I laugh, feeling pleased with myself for throwing him so off-kilter. “Later, man.”

The call disconnects and I stare down at the paperwork still spread across the counter, a weight lifting off my shoulders. There’s only so much about the next twelve months that I’ll be able to control, but this, this is something that’s all mine. It is something I can hold on to when it feels like everything is drifting out of my gasp.

It is the lifeline I need.