by Violet Paige
I decided not to look into his eyes. I kept my gaze directly on the reporter’s pad in front of me.
He cleared his throat. “Well, sweetheart, it was this morning.”
My neck tingled. I reached for another sip of the lime drink.
“And?” I prodded.
I risked looking up at him. His eyes were locked on my lips and they felt heavy under his stare, as if he were going to reach across the table and brush the drops of lime and sugar from my skin.
He didn’t seem to notice how much he unnerved me, or he didn’t care. He continued, “And there was a sign on the door that said ‘pool closed.’”
“That’s it? No explanation?”
He shook his head. “There was nothing on it except the sign. My coach found someone in the building and he was told that there was a problem with the water pressure valves.”
“Really? Who told him?” I asked.
“How the fuck do I know? I wasn’t there.”
I stared at him. “Do you want me to write the story or not?”
“Sorry. I don’t know.” He looked agitated again, like he did when I first saw him at the juice bar.
“Did you see anyone working on the valves? Maybe someone from maintenance?”
“The place was empty. No one was working on it.”
“And when will you get to swim?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I scribbled down everything Blaine told me. I took another sip of the famous Brazilian drink. My head spun once and I put it down.
“Did anyone give you any other options to practice? Is there somewhere in the village, maybe?”
“No. They never offered anything.” He leaned forward, his weight shifting the table toward me. “I might be the first swimmer to arrive in Rio, but it shouldn’t matter. The pool is supposed to be open. I should be swimming right now.”
“Have you filed an official complaint yet?”
He shook his head. “I promised Jim, my coach, that I would give them a day to get it fixed, but I don’t know that I have that kind of patience.”
“What are you going to do to prepare for the games if you can’t warm up?” I asked.
His eyes locked on mine and I felt my stomach flip. “I hope the answer is you, love.”
5
Blaine
I could answer all her questions. I would. I needed people to know how the Olympic Committee had screwed me over today. But I wanted to make it clear with every answer. With every word—I wanted Ava Gold.
One night with her wasn’t enough.
“B-Blaine,” she stammered.
“Are you going to put that in the story?” I taunted, shredding through her boundaries.
“You know I’m not. And you’re breaking our agreement.”
“Wasn’t that meant to be broken?” She couldn’t tell me she didn’t want to get laid as badly as I did. “I don’t like rules.”
It was written all over her pretty face. She wanted me to take her upstairs and make her forget all the bullshit going on in her life. We both needed a day and night like that. Last time she helped me celebrate and I was a shoulder for her to cry on. We both had new needs. Running into each other was accidental.
“This isn’t happening again. I can’t do it.”
She backed up from the table and crammed her notepad and pen in the bag and clamped it shut. I was surprised she hadn’t placed a recorder on the table.
“Ava, come on. We had fun in Sydney.”
Her eyes sparkled with fury. “Fun?”
Shit. Wrong word. I could never tell what was going to piss her off. “We blew off some steam together.”
“I got fired that night, and I was stupid enough to think that you were actually concerned about me.”
“Love, I was. Didn’t you feel better?”
“Ugh! I woke up alone in a hotel room. I had to get a cab back to my place. You didn’t call, text, message. Nothing, Blaine.”
She slung her bag over her shoulder and marched her curvy ass right past me.
“We never said it was more than one night.” I tried to keep my voice low.
“We never said it was only one night.” She glared at me. “I don’t do one-night stands. And I certainly don’t do them with asshole athletes. My mistake. I’m not going to make it again.”
“I’m no one’s mistake.” I could throw around threats too.
“Then go find someone else who thinks you’re irresistible.” She shoved off my chest to clear a path toward the staircase in the lobby. “I’m sure the village is crawling with girls who can’t wait for one meaningless compliment from you. You can have your pick and they’ll drop their panties right there for you, won’t they?” Her chest heaved from talking so rapidly.
“Stop, Ava.”
“Too close to home?” she goaded. “Did I actually reveal the truth about you? Are you worried people might find out what an absolute prick you are?”
“Stop.” I moved closer to her, feeling the heat rise between us. “Don’t move one bit.”
Her bottom lip was mine. I remembered it. How it tasted. How it felt under my tongue and teeth. How it looked clamped on my dick. Fuck.
I reached forward, cupping her cheeks between my palms, and brought my lips down over hers with sudden force. She moaned with surprise, but I moved my mouth until I felt the slight part between her lips and slipped my tongue inside, twisting and flicking, sucking and tasting. The kiss was filled with lime and the sweetness of the rum. Her bag crashed to the floor when her arms wrapped around my neck. My hand slid to her lower back, making a leisurely path to her bottom. I gripped it roughly in my hand.
“Oh God,” Ava whimpered.
“I want to take you upstairs.” It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t give a shit if it was like a sauna in here. I wanted Ava. I wanted to make her mine all over again. I wanted her so badly I could taste it.
Her eyes lifted toward me for the first time since I planted that kiss on her lips. We could both savor the flavor of the drink lingering on our tongues. I still had her firm ass in my hands. I wasn’t letting go.
Her body went rigid in my arms. She flattened her palms against my ribs, pressing her fingertips into my skin.
I knew what was coming before she even said it.
“Bloody hell, Ava.” I sighed.
“Thanks for the interview.”
“Why don’t you thank me in the morning, over brekkie?” I winked.
“Like last time?” The anger in her voice flared again.
She wasn’t going to let me forget I ran out of my hotel room like a roo on fire. I couldn’t tell her the real reason. I couldn’t tell her how a night like that affected me.
I had to clear my head. I had to breathe. I had to get ready for the final qualifying swim. If I had spent another second tangled up with her I would have lost. Everything about her was intoxicating and exotic. How the hell could I stay when my legacy was on the line?
I looked like a dick in her eyes when I snuck out before she awakened. I had hit the pool that morning, trying to push through the water like a champion and not a man with his head out of the game. It wasn’t in the pool—it was back in that hotel room with a sleeping Ava.
“Won’t happen again.” I eyed her. “Aussie word.” I held up my hand.
She crossed her arms. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you could do or say to get me to make that mistake again.” She collected her bag from the floor. “Thanks for the interview. I’m sorry if you thought things were going in a different direction. I’ve got to go. I’ll do my best to get your story in front of my boss.”
She turned for the staircase.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. My good-time-girl just walked away. Fuck.
6
Ava
I remained calm all the way until the third floor, but once I was in my room I felt my knees shaking and stomach rolling. I rattled the chain lock into place before throwing myself on the bed with a gro
an. My lips felt chapped from the rough kiss. It was an amazing, earth-shattering, forget my name kind of kiss.
Everything about it was like the first time. The heat. The fire. The passion.
He could be with me right now. Taking his time to undress me. Rubbing his strong hands across my body. Whispering all the things he wanted to do to me. But I rejected him in the lobby before things were any more out of control.
I closed my eyes. This was an impossible situation.
I knew before I touched down Blaine would be in Rio. The entire world knew he would be here. But I never thought our paths would cross. With ten thousand athletes in the city we never should have run into each other. The odds were in my favor I would never set eyes on that sex machine again.
I wasn’t covering swimming and I knew better than to go near the aquatics center. But I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could coast through the games without hearing his name every other second.
The Americans hated how Blaine had stolen the spotlight from their team, but it didn’t stop us from covering him on every sports show and news magazine. The world had fallen in love with his good looks and charming grin.
The fact that he had broken every world record and was on course to break his own during the games made the interest in him more intense.
And I was sitting on the biggest story. Blaine Crews needed to swim. And there was nowhere for him to go. No pool. No lap lane. No place for the world’s greatest swimmer.
Someone was going to write it. Why not me?
I sat forward. I knew exactly why. Because thinking about Blaine would only take me back to that night in Sydney.
I had fought it with every cell in my body. The pull to him. The draw that only a man like that had.
After Sydney I refused to contact him. I wasn’t going to be one of his groupies. I knew those types of women. I’d covered enough events as a sports reporter to see the look in their eyes. It was the fame. The conquest of crawling under the sheets with a famous athlete was enough to keep them coming back for another inning, quarter, or half. Their clothes got shorter and their necklines deeper. That wasn’t me.
I never cared about their million-dollar contracts or the endorsements that threw them into the spotlight. I loved the purity of sports—the way they brought people together. How games made people forget their problems. How in a single moment when there was a score on the board people could hug and cheer and unite in something other than anger and hatred. How friendships were born out of the love of the same team. Or how rivalries sprouted up and lasted for years. I loved all those things about sports—not the wealth and the wastefulness. Not the hype over insta-fame.
My father always said I had an eye for talent. I could spot the real deal before the recruiters. But I wasn’t into building teams, or working for sports clubs. I loved writing and reporting. It was as much a part of me as the games.
I stayed out of the way of the players. I didn’t date athletes. I had a policy to not even use their first names. It kept things on a professional level.
I swore I’d never sleep with an athlete. That was until the night I met Blaine.
Five weeks ago
National Swimming Trials: Sydney, Australia
I didn’t know I had this many tears in me. I stared at the mirror in the bar bathroom. There was more mascara on my face than remained on my eyelashes. I ran a scratchy paper towel under the faucet and dabbed at the stains on my cheeks. The harder I rubbed, the worse I looked.
Damn it. Who got fired on assignment?
The call came as soon as my drink was delivered. There had to be some kind of irony in that. A victory drink with a side of unemployment. I blotted my face again.
I had only been with Sports Now for six months. Six short, glorious months.
Newspapers were no longer hiring, and online sports outlets were overrun with bloggers and fans flooding the scoring reports. Sports Now was the most relevant sports channel in the country. It was a dream to work there. A dream that blew up in my face on my second day at the swim trials.
They sent me to Australia to cover the Olympic qualifying meets. I was willing to take any beat they gave me as long as I had a job. I didn’t know anything about swimming, but I was ready to study up. If it meant an all-expenses paid trip to the land down under, then it was even better. I couldn’t believe I had this job.
I’d worked my way up through local news. I freelanced with as many national magazines as I could. I put in my time, and finally it came together with this job. The perfect, life-changing job.
I tucked my press badge inside my purse as I crossed the street after the swim finals completed. Two nights in and I felt confident I could deliver the last night of coverage. Most of my broadcasts were for our online audience, but I knew Sports Now was committed to growing that fan base.
I thought about asking my editor, Phil, for a few mainstream events once we made it past the Olympic games next month. I wanted to be in Rio with the crew, but I was also looking ahead to the fall and football. It was my favorite sport. I’d take college or the professional level if it got me on the sidelines.
I had found a pub, or as the locals called it, a boozer, near the swim center, and had just logged on to the wireless to work on my edits for tomorrow’s live shot. By the time my screen blinked to life, I had a beer in my hand and my phone began to ring.
“Hello?”
“Ava, it’s Phil, and Amy’s on the line too.”
“Amy?” I couldn’t form the words fast enough. Amy was in human resources. Something was wrong.
“Hi, Ava.” She sounded sweet on the phone.
“Hi.” I pushed the beer away from me. I had a funny feeling about this phone call. I tried to block out the noise from the raucous crowd in the bar.
The city was buzzing with the excitement from the swim trials. It felt as if the entire world of sports was here to watch history unfold. It was almost electric how intense the energy was around the arena.
It wasn’t my country. And I didn’t know the swimmers like the athletes back home, but I couldn’t help but cheer for Blaine Crews. There was something about the journey he was on as an athlete that pulled everyone in.
Phil cleared his voice. “Look, there’s something we need to talk to you about.”
I knew the time change was a mind fuck but I hadn’t missed any deadlines since I had been here. I did a quick calculation in my head to try to figure out the time in Atlanta. It was close to 8am there.
Everything had been on schedule. I was going to check online to see what kind of hits my last broadcast received. I should have had that information before I took the call.
“What’s going on?” I was cautious.
“Since you left for Sydney, there’s been some restructuring with the company.” Phil paused. I could picture him loosening up the collar on his blue shirt. He always wore blue. “And because of that, we’re going to have to let some of our stringers go.”
“What kind of restructuring?” I was stuck on the wrong part of the explanation.
Amy took over from that point. “Ava, I know this is going to come as a shock, but Sports Now has decided to downsize and focus on the online imprint it has. We can still hold our television market and cut our remote reports. It’s what’s in the best interest of the company.”
“Okay.”
I still hadn’t figured out why they were calling me with a fourteen-hour time change between us to explain something corporate had decided. I had just delivered a kick-ass report on the swim trials to that exact online audience. Then I realized what this was. It was a promotion. Phil wanted more of what I could do for the online viewers. I squealed on the inside, trying to calm my nerves.
“Ava, you are no longer a part of Sports Now.”
I nearly dropped my cell on the varnished table. “What?”
“It’s not personal. You have done an outstanding job while you were with us, but we can’t keep everyone. Human resources decided the fairest ap
proach was to relieve those who were newest to the company.”
I nodded slowly. “I see.”
“I’m going to hop off the line, but Amy will guide you through the exit interview.”
“But I’m in Sydney,” I blurted out. “I’m covering the trials for you.” It was a desperate argument to keep the last shred of a connection to the station.
I didn’t want to lose my job. My dream.
“I think we’ve got that covered now that Crews has set the record.”
“But he’s swimming again tomorrow night!” I didn’t care if everyone in the bar heard me. I had one more assignment in Sydney. Phil couldn’t dismiss me like an intern. I’d paid my dues to get here.
“Thanks for all of your hard work, Ava. Don’t hesitate to ask for a recommendation letter. Best of luck to you. I’ll let Amy handle the rest from here.” There was a garbled exchange on the line and then Amy launched into a rehearsed speech.
I sat in silence while she explained the paperwork I needed to fill out in order to receive a small severance package from the company. My return flight to Atlanta was guaranteed, but for the rest of the trip, if I chose to stay, I was on my own. Sports Now had essentially cut me off and I was on the other side of the world, alone in the southern hemisphere.
When I hung up, I stared into the pint of beer. I grabbed it as the beer sloshed over the side and guzzled until the glass was empty.
I could feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I ran to the bathroom before they spilled onto the table’s shiny surface.
I felt hollow and lost. As if everything had been taken from me at once. I didn’t know if I could breathe or even find my way out of the ladies’ room. I splashed another handful of water on my face.
Everything seemed absurd. The thought that I could somehow hold on to a dream job like reporting for Sports Now. The idea that they sent me to Australia because they had big plans for me. All the pictures I had posted on my social media accounts this week of my trip. Shit.
My palm hit the top of my forehead. I didn’t want to think about the embarrassment and humiliation that would come with this job loss.
