Page 91 of Eight Count Heat
Her scent grows stronger by increments, still masked enough that only the most sensitive would detect it. Me, and possibly Cameron. But the clock is ticking. By the time we cross the finish line, her meds will be reaching their limit.
"Hands on," she calls, her cox voice cutting through my thoughts. "Ready to lift."
The boat rises in perfect unison, our collective focus narrowing to the task at hand. I push everything else aside. The concerns, the memories, the biological responses I can't entirely control. For now, there is only the race. The water. The next stroke.
One last chance to prove ourselves.
One last race with Reese Callahan at the helm.
Whatever comes after, we'll face it when we reach the shore.
chapter TWENTY-FIVE
Reese
Rain falls in afine mist as we glide toward the starting blocks, drops catching in my eyelashes, beading on my skin. The water's surface dances with tiny impacts, millions of miniature explosions that create a haze over the course. The weather has turned just as predicted, transforming this final race into exactly the kind of challenge my crew has trained for.
I should feel confident. We qualified with the fastest time. Our morning practice was flawless. My rowers are the best-trained, most disciplined crew on the water.
Instead, I'm fighting a war against my own body, every cell betraying me minute by minute.
Tyler's emergency dose and my last regular suppressant should still be providing some coverage, but I can already feel them failing. Heat simmers beneath my skin, pulse thudding tooheavily in my veins, senses sharpening painfully. The rain helps, its cooling touch providing momentary relief as we take position for the start.
"Attach to blocks," the official calls from the platform.
Cameron secures our bow to the starting mechanism, then turns his attention back to me. To our immediate left, Westlake does the same. Andrea sits ramrod straight in her coxswain seat, deliberately not looking my way. But I catch her quick glance in my direction, followed by a satisfied smirk that makes my stomach clench.
She knows. She's been watching for this moment.
"Final adjustments," the official announces. "Lock on in ten seconds."
I check our position one last time. Despite the deteriorating conditions, we're perfectly aligned. The crew sits ready, bodies coiled with potential energy, waiting for my command.
Gray watches me, his calm, cold, and controlled energy laser focused. In front of me stretches two thousand meters of water between us and victory. Between me and whatever awaits when this race ends.
"Attention."
The stillness that follows is absolute. Eight bodies frozen in perfect preparation. Nine heartbeats synchronized in anticipation.
The horn blasts, sharp and sudden through the rain.
"Row!"
My crew responds with explosive power, oars digging deep, driving us forward from the blocks. The initial surge nearlythrows me back, but I brace against the foot stretcher, maintaining my position.
"Power ten in three," I call, voice cutting through the rain. "One, two, three—now!"
The shell explodes forward, eating up water with each synchronized pull. Bayside and Ridgemont fall behind immediately, but Westlake matches us stroke for stroke.
"Quick off the start," I warn. "Westlake pushing hard. Stay clean, stay long."
We settle into race pace, finding the sweet spot between maximum power and sustainable effort. The rain intensifies slightly, droplets stinging my face as we cut through the water at racing speed.
Through the corner of my eye, I see Andrea in the Westlake boat, her profile tight with concentration. She's calling something to her crew, pushing them to match our pace. Between our shells, one lane of water separates two entirely different worlds, past and present coexisting in parallel trajectories.
"Coming up on the crosscurrent," I announce. "Ready to adjust in five, four, three, two, one—"
The boat hits the disturbance right on cue. This time, having experienced it in heats, the crew anticipates the adjustment perfectly. We power through without losing momentum.
