“Devon Harris?” he asks.
I nod and grin.
“Jesus, look at you. When did you grow up? Last time I saw you was the graduation party your parents threw for the seniors. What was that—four years ago?” His gaze rakes up and down my body, and Bryce goes still beside me.
“Something like that. How are you, Trevor?”
“Great. I’ve been a cop in Nashville for almost a year. Much different situation on this side of the law.” He turns to Bryce, his face lit with humor. “Randolph, man, remember that time we were picked up partying behind that old farmhouse senior year? You were hooked up with Missy Higgins then, right?
I can’t stop the squeak that falls out of my mouth. It’s stupid, but at the mere mention of Bryce with another girl, a knot pits in my stomach.
The air around us stills as Bryce’s back grows straighter. Trevor notices immediately and looks between us.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Bryce immediately clasps my hand and kisses my ring finger, making a statement. Trevor’s eyes dart between my face and Bryce’s lips.
“Devon’s my fiancée. Not sure we need to rehash high school, especially shit that never happened. Someone may have been with Missy, but it sure wasn’t me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re marrying Nate’s little sister?”
His stunned voice comes out in a high tone, and Quinn tries to hold back but fails. Her small giggle turns into a loud laugh until she starts snorting. She drops her head, so her hair covers her face, but her shoulders continue to jiggle.
One look at Bryce, and his expression transforms from annoyed to pleased. His lips twitch slightly until he speaks. “Yeah, you could put it that way. Technically, she’s Nate’s younger sister, but I prefer to refer to her as mine.”
Trevor looks among all of us with a confused expression. “Wow.”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Bryce asks.
Trevor’s eyes dart to me then lower to the ground. He shuffles his feet before answering. “Don’t mean to be a dick, but I heard you had a kid and fiancée in Knoxville.”
All amusement ends. Bryce swallows hard and looks at me before speaking. “You heard wrong.” He doesn’t elaborate further but loads our bags in the trunk.
“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to—”
“No worries. Now you know.” He holds his hand out for Quinn to give him the keys and then opens the front and back door for us to get in.
I give Trevor a small smile and wave as Bryce shuts me in. They each give a chin jerk, and it’s obvious that Trevor is extremely uncomfortable. Bryce folds into the car and is silent until he gets to the interstate.
“Why does it feel like we just stepped off a time machine and back into high school?”
“Really, it was a legitimate mistake. There are probably a lot of people who heard about the baby but didn’t get the whole story. Even though it’s a big city, it’s still a small community.”
“It was two years ago. Am I ever going to get away from it?”
“I have an idea,” Quinn pipes in. She reaches in my purse and takes out my phone.
“Whatever it is, that look on your face tells me it’s not a good idea.” Her fingers work rapidly as her grin widens.
Then she reaches for her own phone and types quickly.
“Here.” She hands it back. “All of your social media has been updated. You are now officially engaged to Bryce Randolph. Your Instagram also sent a photo of the two of you.”
“Did you caption it?”
“Yep.”
I scroll through my account and squeal when I see what she’s done. She’s taken one of the shots of us at the beach and posted for everyone to see with the title ‘7 years in the making but he’s finally mine’. Then she hash-tagged with #futuremrsrandolph.
“We have to get this down!” I try to remove all tags, but comments keep popping in.
We’re stopped at a red light when Bryce reaches over to take it out of my hand. His lips start to curl then he scrolls down, and his face goes hard.
“Quinn, tell me you didn’t put a fucking picture of Devon in her bikini for hundreds of people to see.”
“Technically, it’s thousands,” she practically sings, knowing he’s about to blow up.
“Get that shit down!”
“Too late. It’s been shared. I mean, we could pull it, but it’s getting the desired effect. Look at all the comments. Besides, thought you’d like the hashtag. That was all for you.”
“I do like it, but what I don’t like is her half-naked body floating over the Internet.”
“I don’t care about that! I care about the fact that she mentioned ‘7 years in the making’. Could I be more embarrassed? People are going to think I’m a loser.” I scowl at my ex-best friend.
“You’re both fucking duds. First of all, Devon, it’s not a secret. Anyone who had eyes could see the way you looked at Bryce. Second of all, Bryce, calm your shit. It’s not like no one’s ever seen her in a bathing suit. Jesus, you two are a fucking mess. You should be thanking me for my brilliant quick thinking.” Her face doesn’t flinch, waiting for me to argue.
I narrow my eyes at her but don’t say anything else. Bryce’s phone starts to ding along with mine as our feeds overload with comments. A text comes through from Nate.
Nate: Did you throw up online? I’m getting fucking bombarded.
Me: Quinn’s handiwork. She tagged you.
Nate: She’s a pain in the ass.
Me: I know.
“Well, regardless of her methods, it worked. Seems both local and college friends now know about us.” I grab Bryce’s hand.
He glares into the rearview mirror at Quinn, but his lips twitch, fighting a grin. She ignores him and plays on her phone. I turn to her, and she gives me a quick glance, winking. Now, I know—she loaded that picture on purpose to get a rise out of him.
God help me.
Chapter 6
I hiccup softly, trying to hold in the sobs clawing up my throat. Immediately, my phone rings, and I look out the small airplane window to see Bryce watching me.
“Hey,” my voice is barely a whisper.
“Babe, don’t let my last memory for three months be of tears streaming down your face.”
“You can’t even see me.”
“Yes, I can, but even more so, I feel you.”
“How is that possible?”
“Not really sure, maybe something to do with the fact that I’m fucking crazy about you?”
I touch my lips where he kissed me goodbye not ten minutes ago. He and Dean brought us to the airport and got passes to walk us to the gate. Unlike last week, this was not going to end with Bryce coming with me. This was the goodbye for months, the one I dreaded and tried to avoid, but when we woke up this morning in his room, ignorance was no longer an option. The time was here. He held me close and made love to me quietly. His parents were out of the house, so we had privacy. All morning, he stayed as close as possible. At lunch with my parents, he sat so I was practically in his lap.
Even though my emotions were all over the place, a small part of me started to simmer with excitement. In three days, we’d be given our assignments for the next six weeks. My mind was already shooting on all cylinders with ideas for articles.
“There’s the light that shines.” Bryce smiles at me. “Even from here, I can see your face starting to brighten. This trip is going to be once in a lifetime, Dev. I may have been a prime ass about the first location, but it was never about your future. It was always about your safety.”
“I know, and I’m really glad we didn’t have to fight about it.”
“There was no fight. You weren’t going. Period. End of story.”
“Bryce, don’t start an argument you won’t win.”
“Oh, babe, I’d win, and that’s why I took drastic measures.”
“Don’t tarnish our goodbye by being
cocky,” I warn.
“Not being cocky if it’s true.”
“Bryce—”
“You happy?”
Even though his face is slightly fuzzy through the distance and the glass, I can tell his eyes are shining.
“Yes, I’m happy.”
“Good, now go kick some Olympic ass. Call me tonight from the hotel.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” he says and hangs up.
The flight attendant goes through the pre-flight instructions, and the whole time I stare at that window. We don’t lose eye contact until the plane backs out, and Quinn grabs my hand. I hold on until we’re safely in the air.
Once we hit cruising altitude, we dislodge, and she brings out the folder we’ve been working on for the last two weeks. Over the next few hours, we get acquainted with every summer Olympic sport and the rules of the games. Since we have no idea which contenders will be in Rio during our stay, we have no athletic bios. But I have a pretty good idea of the basics.
Once we land in Miami and get to our hotel, we’re both exhausted. Instead of going out, we decide on room service and a movie. I’m rummaging through my overnight bag when a deep male voice fills the room.
“What the hell?” I scream and look at the door. The voice rumbles again, causing me to jump. “Who the fuck is that, and where is it coming from?”
“Olá, como vai você.” Quinn repeats the phrase, pressing a button on her phone. “That is Rafael. He’s going to help us learn Portuguese.”
“Rafael?”
“I named him Rafael because it sounds sexy. It’s a translation program I downloaded.”
I can’t help but laugh. Only she would rename a computer generated program to sound sexy. “Well, he scared the shit out of me. He sounded like he was here in the room.”
“Great acoustics on my phone. We need to learn some key phrases to communicate with the locals.”
“Quinn, we’re going to be with teams and guides.”
“Yes, but it’s smart to be prepared. Now, come here. Let’s do this.” She pats the bed next to her, and I plop down.
“‘Olá, como vai você’ is ‘Hello, how are you’?”
We both repeat it a few times and take turns asking Rafael about popular general statements.
Good morning — Bom Dia.
Good Evening — Boa Noite.
Where is the restroom? — Onde é o banheiro.
“These are boring. Let’s get to the good stuff.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me wickedly. “Asshole!” she shouts into the phone.
“Idiota.”
“Jackass.”
”Asno.”
“Bullshit.”
“Besteira.”
She looks at me expectantly and holds the phone close to my mouth. “Fuck,” I say loudly.
“Porra.”
“Bitch.”
“Cadela.”
“Damn.”
“Droga.”
“Dick.”
“Pênis.”
“Looks like some words are universal.” Quinn giggles.
We spend the next hour playing with Rafael until my phone rings. Bryce’s face pops up on the screen, and my heart starts to flutter.
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Devon,” he sighs, “did you forget to call?”
“No, I was going to call before we started our movie. When we got here, we sort of got sidetracked.”
“Douche!” Quinn yells, and Rafael answers, “Ducha.”
“Who the hell is that?” Bryce practically growls.
I tell him about our new translator.
“Your parents confiscated your fake ID, so you’re forced to sit in your room and learn how to cuss in Portuguese? That’s a new one.”
“To be fair, we started out with key phrases in case we had to communicate with locals that don’t speak English. And my parents did not confiscate my ID. I’ll get it back.”
My parents have known about my ID since I went to college, never really caring. As soon as Nate and I turned eighteen, we’ve been able to drink in social situations. As long as I promised to always be careful and responsible, they’ve never questioned me having it. Quinn’s parents are equally as cool, but they all made us turn them over before we left the country.
He continues to laugh while talking, “I know you will, babe. It was a safety thing.”
“Well, the legal drinking age in Brazil is eighteen anyways.”
“Yes, but I’m hoping you’re so wrapped up with work that partying will be the last thing on your mind. I don’t like to think about what could happen down there.”
His voice changes to serious, and I know my protective Bryce is about to come out. “No need to worry. We’ve talked about this.”
“Can we eat something?” Quinn interrupts purposely, rubbing her stomach dramatically.
“Quinn’s hungry.”
“Call me before you go to bed. Don’t forget. Love you.” He hangs up, and my heart skips a beat. Will I always have this reaction to just his words?
*****
Quinn and I are not the only ones who can’t disguise our excitement when we step off the bus. There are a lot of wide eyes and gaping mouths when we see the wonders around us. Our hotel is in close proximity of Olympic Village and the host facilities for the Olympic Games.
A chill runs up my spine, and goose bumps break out over my skin at the pure magnitude of this moment. In a little over a year, hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world will walk on this very spot. Quinn meets my gaze and shows the same reaction.
I’d love to grab my camera from my bag, but I settle on my phone to get a few snapshots. After a few moments, we are ushered into the hotel and directed to a large conference room. The table’s set up with colored packets and name badges. The packets in front of me and the three people to my right are all blue, which I assume means this is my team.
Professor Grant welcomes us and explains that we are indeed seated next to our team members. Quinn scowls, clearly unhappy about being separated. I scrunch my nose, letting her know I’m not pleased either. To my horror, a throat clears, and Professor Grant is eyeing us.
I sit up straighter and try to control the blush creeping up my cheeks. He goes back to reviewing the agenda when the door opens. I literally gasp out loud when some of the biggest names in news walk in. The hair on my arms stands when Shana Willis stops behind the four of us on the blue team.
My eyes meet Quinn’s and hers are as wide as mine. We absolutely admire Shana. Sometimes, when we’re in crazy moods, we’ll prance around the apartment using our fists as microphones and pretend to cover a breaking news story. Usually, it’s after we’ve had a few drinks.
My hands start to tremble when she taps me on the shoulder to introduce herself. I try my best to be normal but fail miserably.
“I-I-I’m Devon Willis.” Oh shit! “I mean, I’m Devon H-H-Harris. You’re Shana Willis.”
Her lips tip up as she takes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Devon Harris.”
I slink back in my seat and watch her introduce herself to my other team members. This is where I learn their names: Eric, Kenny, and Crystal.
The squeaky voice across the table catches my attention, and I watch Quinn blubber her own introduction to Bill Tames. I completely feel her pain. This man survived an attack overseas, and instead of heading back to the safety of the U.S., he stayed and interviewed survivors and families of the fallen. We both hit the jackpot with our professional mentors.
Shana pulls up a chair, and we review the information in the folders. A few hours later, we’re dismissed to go to our rooms and get settled in our home away from home for the next six weeks.
Quinn and I contain ourselves until we are closed in our room before we both unleash our excitement. After dissecting every detail of our meetings, and the new people we’ll be working with, she goes downst
airs to make some calls.
I shoot a quick text to my parents, promising to call later, and then dial Bryce. He picks up on the first ring.
“Babe.”
“You are not going to believe what I have to tell you!” I jump right into my day, trying not to miss any details.
He listens until I’m winded from talking so fast. There’s humor in his voice when he finally gets a chance to talk as I stop to take a breath.
“So happy for you. You’re going to take this opportunity by storm.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely. I couldn’t be happier. Damn, I’m going to miss this.”
The excitement disappears, remembering he leaves at four am tomorrow for Rhode Island. Our communication will be severely limited with our schedules.
“Don’t do it, Devon. I can feel your attitude changing. Don’t lose that spunk.”
I take in a deep breath and clench the phone tighter. “I’m not going to let you miss this. I’ll make a point to do as many videos as possible and send them to your phone. You can watch them when you’re not busy.”
He laughs again, and it hits straight to my heart. I wish I could record that sound.
“All right, that’s a good plan. Now, tell me more about what you’re doing, hotshot. What’s the plan?”
I read him the agendas and different areas we’ll be going. We stay on the phone a while, me not wanting to let him go. Finally, he makes me hang up when my words start to mumble from exhaustion.
“Behave yourself, Devon Marie, and remember, I’m your number one fan,” he tells me before whispering he loves me and hangs up. The last thought I have is “I’m not doing this for me; I’m doing it for us.”
Chapter 7
How many people can say that they get to jump off the 10m platform with an Olympic contender on their twentieth birthday? I swallow hard and silently pray I live through this. Heights terrify me. My stomach lurches into my throat and threatens to choke me.
“Come on, cheer girl! You can do this!” Crystal yells from the safety of the concrete poolside, waving fake pom-poms in the air.
Staying on Course Page 5
