Page 15 of Golden

“Itisa big deal, though. It’s not like I can forget about it.”

“Whatever you decide to do, you don’t have to figure it all out today.” He grips my shoulder and squeezes. “Hell, you don’t even have to figure it out this year. My uncle came out as bi last year and he’s forty-eight. Just know, I’m here for you. Alex, too. Whatever you need.”

I blow out a long breath. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

He gives my shoulder another squeeze, then slides off the bed and heads to the door. I give him a reassuring smile as he leaves. He’s right. There’s no time limit to sort this out. Speaking of time . . . I grab my phone and swallow. It’s time to go to my first swim meet.

SOL

The noise of the crowd is intense. I don’t know whether it’s the acoustics inside the pool or what, but it’s easily ten times louder than when we play. People are standing, yelling and screaming as the swimmers slice through the water, and it’s only the second race. The place was already packed when I arrived, but I grabbed a seat near the back, so I could see but still hide. Yeah. I know.

Following the green swim hats that identify the Wolves, I watch the women’s team annihilate the other schools as they take first and second place in the two-hundred-meter freestyle. I grin as Joy Blake, the women’s captain, punches the air. She’s a Bee and DJs at all their parties, so we’ve hung out a few times.

The announcer calls out the results and they climb out of the pool, immediately being congratulated by the rest of the team. I like that the men and women get to compete at the same events, even if it’s not against each other. Although we hang and sometimes train with the women’s lacrosse team, our tournaments are never at the same time, and we have different coaches. The swim team has one coach as they train at the same time.

My eyes scan the team, all wearing dark green robes and hats, searching out one person in particular. He’s not hard to spot. Wes is easily the tallest person on the team. The announcer calls out the next race and my pulse speeds. It’s the men’s two-hundred-meter freestyle. Does Wes compete in that? His teammates slap his shoulders, and he begins to unfasten his robe, giving me my answer.

Holy hell.Wes Bowers is ripped. I caught a glimpse at the gym but seeing it in person is a whole other ball game. Even with how far away I’m sitting, I can see each sculpted ab, the shape of his defined pecs. He stretches, rolling his broad muscular shoulders as he walks toward the edge of the pool, and when my gaze drops to his tight, dark green shorts, my throat dries. They might not be tiny Speedos, but if anyone ever wanted to know if a member of the swim team was packing, they’d just have to show up to a meet.

I’m so lost in admiring his body that I barely notice when he snaps his goggles in place and climbs up onto the starting block. Then he’s gone.

I watch in awe as he powers through the water. He’s so fucking fast. When he reaches the end and effortlessly somersaults underwater, shooting off again like a torpedo, I shift to the edge of my seat. By the third lap, the crowd is going wild, and it’s between Wes and someone from another school. I have no idea which one, but as everyone stands around me, I rise to my feet, too.

It’s so close, the crowd seems to hold their collective breath as the swimmers reach the side. The official standing at Wes’ lane signals. Then the crowd goes wild. I punch the air, hollering along with everyone else. The grin on my face is wide as Wes climbs out of the pool and shakes hands with his opponents before being swallowed up by his team.

And just like that, I’m hooked. I watch the rest of the races, cheering along with everyone else, but a little louder for Wes’ races. He wins four out of five and I can feel his frustration when he loses. It was only by a fraction of a second, but I can see it in the set of his shoulders when he climbs out. I know he’s going to beat himself up about it. I’m exactly the same when we lose. As captain, it’s even worse, because you take on the failure of the entire team.

By the time the meet wraps up and people begin to leave, the adrenaline of watching melts away and I’m left with gut wrenching indecision. Do I go and congratulate him? Let him know that I was here? There’s no way he saw me, so I could leave now, and he’d never know.

My feet make the decision for me, and instead of heading to the exit, I jog down the steps toward the pool, where the team is chatting. When Wes looks up and sees me, I almost turn and run, but I force myself to keep moving forward, fixing a smile on my face. He looks different without his glasses. Younger. Less intimidating.

“Congrats,” I say as he steps forward to meet me at the railing that separates the stands from the pool.

“Thanks.” The corners of his mouth tip up slightly as he tugs off his cap and goggles, shoving them into the pocket of his green robe. “What did you think? More than ‘splashing and shit’?”

I laugh. “I can’t even pretend I’m not impressed. I think you’ve recruited a new fan for the team.”

Wes’ lips part in a bright smile and it does something to my breathing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“School spirit, right?”

“Does that mean I have to come to a lacrosse game, now?”

I don’t think I could handle playing knowing that Wes was watching me. “You mean, you’ve never been to one?”

Wes’ eyebrows raise. “You’ve never been to a swim meet before.”

“Fair.” I chuckle. “In all seriousness, though, you were amazing.”

My skin heats at my own words and I drop my gaze, although I really shouldn’t have, because it latches onto the wedge of chest exposed by Wes’ loosely tied robe. A bead of water races along his smooth brown skin, tracing the curve of his pec before trailing down to the killer abs I know are below.

Wes coughs and my skin heats to nuclear proportions as I snap my gaze back to his. He doesn’t look annoyed, though. If anything, he looks puzzled.That makes two of us.

“I should get going,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Let you celebrate with your team.”

Wes nods. “Sure. Thanks for coming.”

I open my mouth to say something else, but I have no idea what, so I smile and walk away. When I reach outside, I exhale. Adrenaline and nerves race through my system as I shake out my limbs and head back toward the Den. I don’t think there’s any point denying it anymore. I’m not sure about labels, but I’m one hundred percent attracted to Wes, even if my head hasn’t caught up with the memo from my body. Zak’s throwaway solution bounces about in my head as I cross the campus.

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