Page 102 of Burnout
I move to stand between her legs, resting my hands on her bare thighs. “Sometimes you need that adrenaline of competition to perfect those tiny things.”
She nods like she’s considering my words. “Maybe you’re right. I never used to stress this much before.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s just…”
“What are you really worried about?” I ask when she seems to be stuck working out how to phrase her concerns.
“What if I never get that feeling back? What if the Olympics was a fluke and I’ll never be able to perform at that level again? I don’t know if I could keep doing it. I love it, but I’d rather walk away than get out there and be some watered-down version of the gymnast I used to be.” She blows out a breath and her blue eyes are wide with worry.
I take her hand and thread my fingers through hers. “It wasn’t a fluke. Your success wasn’t dumb luck, it was hard work and a fuck-ton of talent. I’ve seen you put in the time, day after day. Youwillget there.”
She nods, but still doesn’t seem fully convinced.
“Let’s go,” I suggest.
“Where?”
“I need to go by my place for a bit, then wherever you want.”
She looks like she might want to stay in this gym forever or until she gets her routine exactly how she wants it, but I lift her off the beam before she can protest.
“If you really want to practice more after I feed you, then I’ll bring you back and I’ll do more handstands or something while you work out.”
Her lips turn up in a weak-ass smile.
“I’ll even take my shirt off for extra motivation.”
A real smile finally spreads across her face. I’d do just about anything to keep it there.
At home, I get to work making dinner while Flynn sits at the table doing homework. Hendrick is at the bar, and Archer and Brogan are still at football practice but should be home any minute.
Avery washes her hands and then asks, “How can I help?”
“I got it. Take a load off, princess.”
“Shut up. I’m not going to sit around while you make me food.”
“Uhhh, all right. You wanna chop that onion?”
She finds the cutting board and picks a knife, then sets to work while Flynn and I chat about his day. He’s got college recruitment tours coming up and I need to chat with Colter to make sure none of them conflict with the tour event dates.
“Which school is your favorite?” Avery asks my brother, glancing up from her cutting.
“Houston,” Flynn says immediately.
“Really?” I ask. I didn’t know he had a preference. Every time we’ve talked about college it’s just been wherever he can play.
He nods, then blushes.
“I grew up nearby. A lot of my high school classmates went there. I have a friend that goes there, too. Well, friend might be overselling it. I trained with her before the Olympics.”
Flynn and I share an amused look.
“What?” Avery says, her voice climbing with uncertainty as she glances between my brother and me. “Am I inserting myself into a family conversation?”
“What? No.” That makes me laugh, which makes her confusion grow.
