Chapter 18 #2
“You must’ve found a balance at some point.”
“Yeah, I did. My coaches taught me the importance of rest days and the dangers of burnout. They said I didn’t have to live at the pace of a lightning strike all the time.”
“A lightning strike? Is that where you got the idea for your victory dance?”
“Sort of.” Dan sniggered. “But that was mainly just some stupid thing I did once that everyone suddenly loved. But I’ll tell you a secret…
My sisters and I used to do that move when we were kids.
If we called each other names, we’d go, ‘Boom!’ as if we’d been struck by lightning, but then we’d just walk away, like, ‘Whatever, you moron. No skin off my back.’ It was so irritating. ”
“I love that.”
“It’s stupid kids’ stuff,” Dan said, but then a wisp of nostalgia for those bygone days flashed in his eyes.
“I’m sure you can still do a lightning strike.” She nudged his leg. “That funky move is great.” The way he’d make his body move in a shock wave, from his toes to his head, and then bam! His fist shooting up like that, grabbing his win. “Will you do it for us, on camera?”
“No.” Nostalgia turned to sadness. “I don’t think so.”
She didn’t insist. That move—or him not doing it again in victory—was obviously a pain point.
“So, you were hungry,” Libby said, getting back on topic. “Tell me what a man with that kind of hunger does when it’s been sated?” Oops, she’d just made him sound like some alpha lion, and thinking of Dan sated made her skip down that forbidden path again. “I mean—”
“It’s never sated,” he said firmly.
An insatiable appetite? Libby swallowed. But they were talking about his sport. Not… Not things she shouldn’t be thinking about. “What about that box of gold medals?”
“It’s never enough. That’s the thing. You always want more.”
“That sounds like it could become a problem.”
“It is a problem. When you’re used to winning gold—when everyone expects it of you, when you expect it of yourself—anything less is just failure.
And that kind of pressure is immense. It messes with your head knowing that when you step out on the track, everyone expects only the best. Anything less is just a disappointment. ”
“Is that what went through your mind at the beginning of a race?”
“It used to. Now, it goes through my mind constantly.”
“Because of your injuries?”
“Yes. It wasn’t just a hunger for success that drove me. I loved winning. Simple as that. I loved it. And now… I feel…ruined.”
He looked at the water, the intensity of his words dissipating with each lapping wave against the harbor wall.
Libby stopped recording. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said on a deep inhale. “I’ll get better at this… This talking business. I need to talk about how I feel. It’s good therapy. You were right.”
“Hey, I’m always right.”
He snickered. “Ninety percent of the time.”
“I’m happy with ninety percent,” she said and put her phone back into her bag behind her. The sun beat down. Dan’s face was glistening with sweat. Hers must be too. “Do you want to hear an interesting fact about me now, Cranky?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“I haven’t taken a swim by myself for well over three years.”
“Well, Libby Jones. Now’s your chance.”
Too late, Dan’s hand on her back registered, and she went flying into the water. Bubbles burst around her ears as she held her breath, and then she came bursting to the surface. “You…you!” she spluttered. By the time she wiped her eyes, Dan was already bobbing beside her, a big grin on his face.
“No time like the present, Libby.”
“Huh. Well, take this!” She jumped on his back to dunk him, but of course, he was much stronger. He flung her off like a piece of seaweed but then caught her arm and pulled her back toward him.
“I thought we both needed to cool off,” he said, releasing her.
“So did I, but I was going to lead up to it with class and sophistication. Or at the very least, take my clothes off.”
The swells had her bumping into him, their wet legs slicked against each other, and her gaze traveled to his chest. His T-shirt was shrink-wrapped around it again. Which must mean…
Her eyes shot down to her own chest. Her dress, now see-through, clung to her breasts, making the bikini top she wore underneath look like regular underwear. More intimate. Personal.
She glanced back up. And so did Dan—eventually.
Caught looking at her breasts, he cleared his throat and quickly said, “You’ll soon dry off. Come on. I’ll race you to the other side.”
“Gee, I wonder who’d win?” she drawled. “The overweight mom, or the Olympic athlete?”
“Overweight?” His head whipped around, eyebrows slammed together. “Seriously? You’ve got a great figure.”
Libby’s heart swelled like the ocean. “You think?”
“Of course. Just ask the colonel. And Hehu.”
“Right,” she drawled. “Two old men.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right, Cranky.” She laughed at his stricken face. “I’ve taken the compliment. Thank you.”
The confidence boost was great, even if it was a little wasted, considering she was very much closed for business in that department. She was too busy being Karim’s mother.
And she was happy with that.
Which was just as well, seeing as she wasn’t beating any admirers her own age away with a stick.