Page 49 of Stroke of Fate

“All right, it’s settled. Now let’s get this practice started.”

While everyone around me hustles toward the pool, my attention stays on Bear. I’m about to head her way, but she’s already walking off.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s been holding out on their best friend,” Mack says, clapping me on the back.Hard.

He’s right. I have been holding out, but there’s a good reason.

Things with Bear feel different. They have from the beginning. For the first time, I care about someone liking me for who I am. Not for my looks, talent, or any of that other superficial bullshit that can disappear in an instant.

But this isn’t the time or place to get into it.

“Let’s get through this weekend, and then we’ll talk about whatever you think I’m holding out on,” I tell him.

“You bet your ass we will.” With that, he dives into the water, and I follow.

Two hours later, Coach blows the final whistle. I brace my hands on the pool's edge and use the last of my strength to push myself up and out of the water.

This was the best practice I’ve had since starting training again. My mind, my body, my technique—everything just clicked. It was one of those rare days when being in the water felt good again. Competitive swimming had been part of my life for so long that sometimes I forgot why I fell in love with the sport in the first place.

And yeah, my flawless performance had something to do with a certain blonde sitting in the bleachers.

Whenever I came up for air during a drill, I’d catch Bear staring. The second I looked in her direction, she’d look down at the notebook spread across her lap. It was adorable how she pretended she hadn’t been caught in the act.

What she didn’t realize was how much I enjoyed having her attention on me. Having her in a place where I felt confident and comfortable fueled me. When I pushed myself harder and swam faster, it was because I knew she was watching.

“Good work, everyone,” Coach’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Tomorrow, we’ll have a shorter training day and talk about this weekend’s meet.”

He launches into his usual speech about etiquette and how we’re representing the school, so we better not swing our dicks around like cavemen on Saturday.

And with those inspiring words, he dismisses us.

Everyone disperses toward the locker room. Not me. I have other things on my mind.

Dropping my cap and goggles on a nearby bench, I wrap a towel around my waist and head straight for my new favorite spectator.

The closer I get to her, the more nervous I am. It’s a foreign sensation, and I will myself chill out.

Forcing out a silent exhale to shake the jitters, I say, “Hey, Teddy Bear.”

She’s turned away from me, shoulders tensing at the sound of my voice, hand pausing midair with the notebook. In a blink, she resumes stuffing the book into her bag.

When she finally turns around, her mouth opens like she’s about to say something, but then her gaze drops to my dripping, naked torso.

I watch, amused, as eyes trail down my abs. I flex them for good measure because, well, I can.

She blinks slowly, and then her dazed gaze meets mine.

“Are you feeling alright? You look a little flustered,” I tease as her cheeks flush even brighter.

Straightening her spine, she lifts her chin. “I’m fine. Is there something you want?”

Yes, actually there is.

I want to tie her down and make her mine. But unfortunately, it won’t happen as quickly as I’d like because I have to tread lightly with Bear.

She’s like a delicate flower, and my greedy hands aren’t made for handling precious things. But for her, I’ll learn how to handle with care.

“I wanted to see if you’re free tonight for dinner.” And since I already know she’ll shut me down—because Bear is fighting whatever this is between us—I add, “To talk about the project.”

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