Page 38 of The Bright Side of Brooding
“We’ll, uh, all go over together. You need to come to this to get your badge and so they see your credentials.”
She nodded. “I figured.”
“If you need anything, let me know. Not that you will. I know you’re incredibly self-sufficient and no doubt prepared, I just… you know. Let me know.”
Oh, why? Why had I let this fool mouth run?
“Okay. Will do.”
She shifted something in her suitcase, then glanced back, likely waiting for me to say something else or leave. But I couldn’t bring myself to do either.
Summer, not being shy or one to mince words, spoke into the awkward void. “Did you need something else?”
“No. Sorry. See you in a bit.”
With that brilliant parting shot, I ducked out of her room, shut the door of mine, and fell face first into the bright white comforter.
* * *
“Bridger looks good. My money says he’ll take it.” Art shoved a large forkful of food into his mouth and chewed. He and Alicia had done a lot more competing than Rob, and they were both in the running to pick up some attention at this event.
“I’m starstruck. I would feel a little stupid, but I never expected some of these people to be at this event.” Rob had a dreamy look on his face and had since we’d walked into the convention center. Some of the biggest names in FitCross had been standing around chatting—some had come to judge, some to compete, and some were there with sponsors. Most didn’t travel just for fun, but this London event had draw.
“Bridger will take men’s. Jonsdottir will take women’s,” Alicia put in.
Three of us nodded. Both guesses weren’t really guesses. For this region, Jonsdottir was by far the top female competitor.
Across from me, Summer ate quietly, a faraway expression pulling her brows together just slightly. We hadn’t spoken again, but she’d been close by all afternoon as we toured the center, saw where everyone would compete tomorrow, and signed in. We were a small, relatively unknown team, but since Art and Alicia had gained traction, we’d garnered some attention.
I’d never been good at the glad-handing as a competitor. I could do it for my people, but not so much for myself.
“What’s going on in that head, Summer? You look like you’ve got some deep thoughts happening.”
Rob’s question snapped her out of whatever trance she’d entered. “Oh, sorry. I’m super tired. But…”
“But?” Rob nudged.
She smiled then, something sweet and pleased that hit me low in the belly.
“This is going to sound terrible, but I was thinking about how I was probably the least fit person in that entire building today. It was an interesting experience.” She scooped up some food and took a bite.
“What? Nah. Plus I can genuinely say that only the idiots are scoping people out that way.”
Art’s cheery reassurance was kind, but he was wrong. Everyone evaluated everyone else’s fitness at all times. It was one reason I prioritized being as fit as possible myself, even though I wasn’t competing. It reflected better on my team if I looked the part.
“I don’t mean it in apoor meway at all. I’m happy with what I look like and—”
“You should be.”
The words punched out of me, unbidden. But I couldn’t have held them back for a thousand dollars. I didn’t think of her as someone who’d have low self-esteem or be self-conscious, but being in a room full of people who worked out like it was their job—because it was—could do things to people that they didn’t anticipate. I hadn’t even thought about that side of it because, well, I couldn’t imagine anyone seeing her as anything less than exquisite.
Her lashes fluttered and she pressed her lips together.
“I am.” Her eyes flicked up to me, and she gave me a warm look that made my cheeks heat. “I just mean, it was interesting to be aware of. Not self-conscious in a bad way, but in anI’m noticing thiskind of way.”
Rob piped up. “I get that, for sure. It’s overwhelming. The smaller events are full of normal people, but this is intense. I’ve watched enough of them online that I knew what to expect, but still. I’m definitely second-guessing—”
“No. No more of this. What do we talk about?”
