Chapter 19
TALON
The first thing I wanted when my plane landed wasn’t a shower or food. Not even the perfectly balanced meal I knew I should grab. What I wanted was to get home.
Not just home, but to the fish.
And maybe, if I was being honest, to her.
The meet in Austin had gone better than I could’ve imagined.
I’d gotten the time I needed. For months, that goal had felt like an anchor tied to me, dragging me down with every practice, every doubt, every voicemail from my dad telling me I was wasting my time.
But I’d done it. I’d proved him wrong. Proved myself right.
For the first time in a long time, I could breathe.
I should’ve been celebrating. Every muscle in my body hummed with the afterglow of hitting the wall, looking up at the board, and seeing my time on the screen. The burden I’d been carrying had slid off my shoulders the second it happened.
But instead of blowing up Livvi’s phone with the news—or logging in to message ReadToLiv—I’d forced myself to hold back. That had taken more willpower than any training set I’d ever done.
Because now I knew. I knew they were the same person.
And I still didn’t know what to do with that.
Every instinct screamed at me to tell her, to finally bridge that gap, but the thought of saying it out loud made my insides clench.
What if she’d known all along? What if this had been some twisted test to see if I’d figure it out?
Or worse—what if she had no idea, and I ruined everything by blurting it out?
So I stayed quiet.
I gave her space.
And maybe gave myself a little too.
But now, as I slung my bag over my shoulder and cut through the terminal, my focus was scattered. Yes, I’d gotten the time I’d needed. But I wasn’t done. Not even close—but I was at least a step closer.
And yet, as much as I wanted to ride the high of achieving my goal, the closer I got to home, the more my thoughts tangled themselves around the same two things.
The fish.
And Livvi.
The drive from the airport felt longer than the flight itself.
My hands gripped the wheel tighter than they needed to, knuckles pale against the leather. Austin was still clinging to me—the chlorine, the adrenaline, the echo of the buzzer—but none of it compared to the pull of getting back here.
Back to the fish. Our fish. Back to her.
I told myself it was just the fish. That I needed to make sure she was okay after Livvi had texted about the weird swimming.
But that was only half the truth. The other half was harder to admit—that I wanted to see Livvi.
To look her in the eye and figure out if she knew.
If she’d been playing me this whole time, or if the universe had just decided to tie my life into knots for the fun of it.
Every traffic light felt personal, like the universe’s way of reminding me I wasn’t in control. I thought about calling her but stopped myself. No. Not yet. Not until I knew what the heck I was even going to say.
At least I had one victory under my belt. I was one of the main contenders for a spot on the Olympic team. The one thing I’d been chasing. That was solid. Unshakable. My dad could lecture me about being too old or irresponsible all he wanted—I had proof now that I wasn’t done. Not yet.
But the other part? Livvi and ReadToLiv? That was quicksand, and I wasn’t sure if stepping in deeper would save me or sink me.
By the time I pulled into the lot, a knot had formed in my stomach and my heart was pounding harder than it had when the cool water had enveloped me during my races in Austin. I shut off the engine and sat there for a second, staring at the faint glow of my apartment windows.
One deep breath, then another.
It’s just a fish, I told myself.
It’s just a woman.
But I didn’t believe either of those things anymore.
Shouldering my bag, I headed up the stairs, my pulse hammering with each step. When I slid my key into the lock and pushed the door open, the first thing I saw was the soft blue glow of the tank, the soft hum of the filter the only sound in the apartment.
And the second thing was her.
Livvi stood in front of the tank, one hand lightly pressed against the glass like she was steadying the little blue tang inside.
Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, dark strands catching the glow from the water.
She was wearing jeans and a fitted top, nothing fancy, but it didn’t matter.
My gaze caught on the subtle curves of her figure, the way the light made her hazel eyes seem brighter, alive.
Beautiful. That was the only word for her.
Something stirred in me then, something I couldn’t shake.
I’d been around plenty of women before—flirtations, short-lived flings, people who liked the idea of me more than the reality.
But this … this was different. Just seeing her here—in my space, taking care of something as small and fragile as a fish for me—had a more powerful effect than I expected.
She wasn’t just passing through my life anymore. She was starting to infuse herself into it.
And that thought terrified me as much as it thrilled me.
Because even as my body tightened with the urge to cross the room and thank her, to stand close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, there was that other thought gnawing at me. The secret I couldn’t ignore.
ReadToLiv.
Livvi.
They had to be the same. Every conversation, every slip of words, every overlap … it all lined up. And if that was true, what then? I needed to know if she knew, if she’d known all along. Or was I just the idiot in the room, catching up to a game she’d been playing from the start?
I clenched my jaw, torn between wanting to pull her into this new piece of my world and wanting to step back until I knew the truth.
But then she turned and looked at me, her lips curving into a small smile, and for one unguarded second, all I felt was relief.
Her smile widened as I slowly stepped closer, and she gestured toward the tank.
“She’s holding up,” Livvi said softly. “I mean, considering. The ich isn’t gone yet, but she’s still eating. That’s a good sign.”
I moved beside her, close enough to see the tiny bubbles clinging to the surface of the water.
The blue tang swam in a lazy loop, fins twitching, her colors a little duller than before.
The air lodged in my throat, too heavy to swallow.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d already gotten attached to this little fish until I saw her like this.
“Yeah, but we need to help her.” My voice was lower than I intended, almost rough.
Livvi glanced at me, her hazel eyes steady and reassuring. “I started raising the temperature a little. It speeds up the parasite’s life cycle so the treatment can actually work. I’ll show you what to add—it’s not complicated, just needs consistency.”
She reached for the small bottle on the counter, brushing past me as she measured a dose. The scent of her shampoo hit my nose, and I forced myself to focus on the fish, not the way every small thing about her seemed to cause my senses to go haywire.
“You look like a pro.” I watched her tip the medicine into the tank.
Her lips curved, a proud little smile. “I couldn’t let her down. She deserves the best.”
Something in her tone—so certain, so gentle—made me glance at her instead of the fish. And just like before, there was a tug in my chest, something new but also familiar.
“So,” she went on, keeping her eyes on the water, “I figured we’ll treat her for two weeks, keep the water extra clean, and see how she does. It’s not guaranteed, but …” She finally looked at me, and I caught the faintest flicker of vulnerability. “It’s worth trying.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, nodding. “It’s definitely worth trying.”
For a moment, we just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, watching our blue tang weave slowly between the rocks. It felt easy. Natural. Like slipping back into a rhythm we hadn’t lost, no matter how much had changed in my head.
The storm inside me—the questions about Livvi and ReadToLiv, the doubts I hadn’t sorted out—quieted under the soft glow of the tank light. All that mattered right then was her beside me, both of us rooting for a tiny blue fish to make it through.
“You realize you’re more invested in this fish than you were a week ago.” Her lips curved into that sly little grin that always made it impossible for me not to smile back.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, keeping my eyes on the tank. “She grew on me.”
“Uh-huh. Next thing I know, you’ll be hand-feeding her algae wafers and reading her bedtime stories.”
That pulled a laugh out of me, low and unguarded. “I’ll leave the bedtime stories to you. You’ve got the voice for it.”
Her cheeks flushed the faintest pink, and she quickly pointed toward the tank. “Speaking of, I’ve been thinking we should finalize her name. Sharkira was funny at first, but … she deserves something better.”
I moved my head from one side to the other, considering the way the little fish darted through the current. “Something blue.”
Livvi nodded. “Sapphire?”
“Not bad.” I folded my arms, studying the shimmer of her scales under the light. “What about Azul?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like she should be leading a mariachi band.”
I chuckled. “Okay, fair. What else you got?”
She tapped her chin dramatically, hazel eyes gleaming. “Skye?”
“Hmm. Too soft.” I paused, then shrugged. “Maybe you were onto something with Sapphire. It’s strong, classic. Feels like it fits her.”
Livvi glanced at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah? I like Sapphire too.”
We stood there in comfortable silence, watching Sapphire weave through the coral, the name settling between us like a promise.
After a moment, Livvi nodded her head toward me. “So … are you going to tell me how Austin went? Or do I have to dig through swim blogs to find out?”
Her question caught me off guard in the best way. The corner of my mouth tugged upward as a rush of pride washed over me again. “I got the time I needed. I’m officially a contender for Team USA.”
Her whole face lit up, brighter than the tank lights. “Talon, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.”
Her arms wrapped around my neck, her hug taking me by surprise. I slowly wrapped my arms around her waist and tried to not get lost in the feel of her body against mine, the way she seemed to fit so perfectly in my arms, or how her intoxicating scent enveloped me.
Warmth spread through me at her sincerity. “Thanks,” I said quietly, wishing I could explain just how much her words meant after all the hard work—and all the crap with my dad. “It feels like a weight’s been lifted.”
She pulled back enough to see my face but didn’t break our contact. “Please tell me you celebrated with junk food,” she teased.
That pulled a laugh out of me. It was no secret that I was not only dedicated in the water, but also out of it. “Nope. Stuck to the clean-eating plan. But I’ll admit … I thought about having a Snickers.”
Our faces were close, so close that it wouldn’t take too much to close the distance, to take her lips with mine.
As if sensing the tension, she quickly released her hold on me, clearing her throat and stepping back. “Well, Sapphire and I approve.”
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, taking in her grin, the sparkle in her hazel eyes, the way she seemed just as invested in the fish as I was now. It was ridiculous how natural this felt, like the tension from before had never existed.
“You know,” I said, half to lighten the moment, half because it was true, “I think you might care about her more than I do.”
“Please,” she scoffed, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You’re the one who called me immediately after I texted you about the itching. Pretty sure that qualifies as fish-dad territory.”
I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “Okay, fair. But you’re the one who came up with her name. That makes you … what, fish godmother?”
Her laugh filled the space between us, light and warm. “I guess so. I think it’s safe to say we both care about her.”
Something about the way she said we—so easy, so sure—settled deep in me. For now, it didn’t matter that I was still torn up inside about what I knew. For now, it was just me, Livvi, and a bright blue fish named Sapphire. And after so long, that felt like enough.