Two Years Later #2
Nova starts waving like a madwoman. I follow her gaze across the pool to the opposite side of the arena where Nox just walked in.
The Monroe smolder is on full blast. He’s completely focused, in the zone, eyes intense and brows furrowed beneath the rim of his swim cap.
He stalks across the pool deck, not paying attention to anyone or anything as he makes for his lane.
I practically melt on the spot. It’s been two weeks since he left to get adjusted to the time difference before the games.
And while we’ve talked on the phone, it’s not the same as getting hit by the force of his presence.
Decked out in the Stars and Stripes, he oozes confidence and power.
I can’t mess with that. What was I thinking?
“Nox!” Nova starts shouting. “Over here!”
“Stop!” I jump on her and cover her mouth with my hand. “Forget the plan. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” she counters, the sound muffled by my palm.
“It is.”
“No.” She yanks my fingers away. “It’s exactly what he needs. Nox! Nox!”
He stops in the middle of unzipping his jacket and turns toward us.
The second his gaze lands on me, his entire face lights up.
I sandwich my left hand between my thighs, ignoring Nova’s elbow as I wave with my right.
He holds my stare for one second longer, eyes so warm the heat fills me up inside, before he returns to his pre-race prep.
“Chicken,” Nova whispers.
I roll my eyes and grab her hand, looking around at the crowd, which goes noticeably wilder the second Nox’s jacket hits the deck. “This is crazy.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
We thread our fingers together with a grin and watch Nox take his place on the starting block.
This is only the first prelim, and he’s a shoo-in, but I still hold my breath when he crouches down into position.
He doesn’t look for his father in the crowd.
He wouldn’t find him anyway. After Nox’s book came out and the swimming community realized the fucked-up mind games Peter Monroe was playing with his son, they ostracized him.
No more invites. No more VIP seating. No more interviews.
He still gets a few tabloid headlines here and there, and I’m sure the viewers back home are getting a complete rundown from the so-called news while the camera zooms in on Nox’s focused face, but he’s not in here anymore. He’s not where it matters.
I am.
Nox flicks his gaze toward me. I smile warmly back, hoping all the love and pride in my soul are written plainly on my face.
The buzzer sounds and he’s off. I squeeze Nova’s hand so hard my fingers start to tingle.
I can’t even breathe as I watch Nox cut smoothly through the water.
He’s got a comfortable lead and he’s not even fully committed, exactly what he wants in a prelim.
I’ve been to enough of these meets by now to know.
But I still jump up and start cheering like a maniac the second his fingers touch the wall.
Nova and I hug. Chants of USA fill the air.
I get so wrapped up in the moment I completely forget about the ring on my finger—until Nox clocks it.
“Shit!” I bury my fingers in my armpit but it’s too late.
I guess the rock is big enough to see from the pool.
Nox stares at me hard as he pulls himself out of the water.
My heart is racing a mile a minute. I’m so anxious I can’t even spare a second to appreciate the droplets rippling down his chest, which is honestly saying something, because I know from experience it’s a sight that never gets old.
He marches across the pool deck, right to the base of the stands, and pulls himself up onto the ledge, ignoring the security guard gesturing at him to get down.
People yell his name, shout out congratulations, but his focus doesn’t waver.
“Clara!”
Yup, okay. He’s definitely here for me.
By my side, Nova snorts and pushes me toward the steps. We’re only five rows up, but it gives me just enough time to gather my courage as I make my way down. I stop about a foot away from the handrail and look up at him with a grin.
“Great race.”
He doesn’t take the bait. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, maintaining my innocence as long as I can.
“What are you wearing?” He drops his gaze pointedly to my hand.
“This?” I hold up the ring, as though I forgot it was even there. Fat freaking chance. “You said to hold on to it for safekeeping.” I smile and shrug. “I figured my finger was about as safe as it could get.”
Before I can say another word, he grabs me by the cheeks and pulls me up into a searing kiss, as if he just can’t wait one more second.
Cameras flash from every angle, but I hardly notice them as I throw my arms around his neck, giving in entirely.
I haven’t seen him in two weeks. If he wants to make out in front of the entire world, I’m sure as hell not going to say no.
There are far worse things to be called than that girl who’s in love with Nox Monroe.
Trust me, I know. And we made a deal when we got back together—no more low-profile, no more hiding.
I’ll be forever grateful that he shielded me from the fallout when he put himself into rehab, but I’m not afraid of the publicity anymore.
If we’re in this, we’re in it—for the good, the bad, and especially the ugly.
People will say what they want to say. I’m not living my life for them.
I’m living it for me. And I, for one, hope everyone is watching.
I hope they know he’s all mine.
Nox slides his tongue into my mouth, kicking up the heat as though he just can’t help himself, before pulling us apart.
“Smart-ass,” he whispers into the inch between our lips.
“Control freak,” I whisper back.
“You’re still a fucking distraction.”
“And you’re still an arrogant know-it-all.”
He leans back just far enough to offer me a slanted grin. “Yeah, but I’m your arrogant know-it-all.”
I grin back. “Not until after the Olympics.”
He’s about to go in for another kiss when a reporter yells up from his feet. “Is that an engagement ring? Are you two engaged?”
More reporters run over, more cameras, more flashes. Nox presses a quick peck to my lips, then rolls his eyes and drops back down to the pool deck.
“No comment,” he practically growls as he pushes his way through the mass to get back to the water. The mob looks up at me.
“What he said!” I toss out and turn my back.
Nox wins his next prelim, and then we break before the finals.
Madeleine meets us for lunch at the hotel before all three of us head to the pool together.
It’s wild how much of a difference her presence makes.
Everyone is watching, sneaking photos with their phones, filming.
If I thought the reporters were bad before, it’s nothing compared to having one of the most famous actresses in the world by my side.
The questions they shout range from polite to downright rude.
One calls out asking if she’s had anything to drink today and I actually gasp.
But Madeleine handles it with grace and poise, not letting anyone see her flinch.