Better Than First: Olympic Hopefuls: Book 1

by Trumbo, Kari

  A few hours later, he buzzed her apartment and she let him in within seconds, like she’d been waiting, watching for him. Or, was he just overanalyzing the situation? He paused outside her door for a moment. Lord, help me to calm down. If Isla cares about me, she cared about me before yesterday. Help me to stop walking on eggshells and looking for reasons for her to suddenly hate me. He knocked on her door.

  Isla opened it slightly, then backed away, letting him come in. She wore a new track outfit that he’d never seen before. Usually, she wore the same couple tank tops and bike shorts, knowing they would get sweaty anyway. He stared for a second at how amazing the red fabric of the tank top looked against her pretty skin.

  “Duncan? Is something wrong?” She backed her chair up a few inches more and her face fell slightly.

  “No, I just…don’t see you in that color very often.” He slid his hand down his face. Was it hot in there? “Do you have your bag ready? I can bring it out to the car.”

  She gave him a strange look, then rolled over to the couch. “It’s here. Let me grab my sweatshirt and I’ll be ready.”

  It was only about fifteen degrees outside, even chillier than normal. “You’ll want a blanket for your legs. It’s pretty cold outside.”

  Isla glanced over her shoulder at him and narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’ve never worried before about my clothes.”

  Had he stepped on a landmine? Was she looking for a fight? “Sorry. I’m sure you’ll be fine with whatever.” He groaned inwardly. It seemed that no matter what he did, it would be suspect. This was why second dates never happened. It had to be.

  She tugged her sweatshirt on over her head and rolled toward him. “If the UPS guy can wear shorts until it’s practically zero degrees outside, I think I can manage.” She rolled past him and headed for the door. “You coming?”

  He turned and followed her. When they’d made it into the car, the space felt about half as small as it usually did. “Hey, Isla, if I said something in my text this morning that made you angry or hurt you, I’m sorry.”

  She shifted in her seat and glanced out the window. “I was more worried that I’d said something to hurt you and I wasn’t sure how to act when you showed up today. It felt like you meant to get back at me when you started in on what I was wearing. I’m sorry.”

  “I was just looking out for you.”

  She sighed heavily and took a minute. “I know. You always do. I don’t know why I looked at your words any differently today than I have any other day.”

  But he did, because he’d talked to Pastor Paul. “It’s really fine. I don’t have much to get. Most of my list was taken care of months ago.” He’d had that ring sitting in his desk at home since June. He’d had to enlist Isla’s mother to help him pick it out and trust that she would know what Isla would like because she never wore jewelry, nothing he could compare a ring to.

  Isla tipped her head to the side and stared at him hard. “Months ago? Why so early? Did you find a good sale or something?” She clicked the buckle on her seat belt and waited for him to come around. He wasn’t ready to admit what he’d bought. If he did, she would either rush away from him as fast as possible—and in her chair, she was pretty fast—or she’d ignore the list he’d forced her to make, and then wouldn’t see the importance of his offer. He wasn’t a gold medal, never would be. Maybe he could never make her feel as good as winning could, but he wouldn’t know until he tried.

  * * *

  Duncan made his way to her and helped her out of the car. “So, does this count as our shopping trip?” he laughed, remembering her challenge to make him be seen like she was.

  “No, unless you want to wheel around the mall. It’s not as much fun as it looks, I promise,” she said dryly as she swung her bag over the right arm of her chair.

  “I think it would be best if we made that a grocery trip like you said. Especially because we’ve hit crazy mall season. It’s going to be packed in there.” He stood on his toes and stared across the parking lot. There wasn’t a spot available that he could pick out. Ridgedale was one of the more popular malls in the Twin Cities area, and made for locals.

  “Suit yourself. I figured that was one on my list you would skip over. It isn’t fun. Shopping just never has been.”

  “If that’s true, why did you ask me to come?” Why bother if she didn’t want to be there. The whole reason for shopping was to find gifts people would actually enjoy and use, and was usually one of his least favorite things about the holiday.

  “Because you challenged me to get out of my apartment. So, instead of shopping online, I asked to go to the mall. I’m beginning to regret it.” She twisted her hands together in her lap.

  Duncan took up the place behind her and pushed her chair through the thin layer of snow covering the lot, as he kept an eye out for cars. “Don’t say that. I’ll try to make it fun.”

  “Duncan, where do you usually spend Christmas?”

  The question hit him out of the blue. She’d been worried about going inside and then, boom―the scene shift right under him. “I…uh...” He didn’t usually admit where he went. Mateo and Sofia had invited him without fail every year. He’d always given his excuses and they hadn’t pushed him for his reasons. This was the first year in many that he would break with tradition.

  “Duncan, do you have a girlfriend?” She glanced back at him and it felt more like an accusation. Like he’d been caught cheating on her when he’d never come close.

  “A girlfriend?” He didn’t even know how to answer that. Hadn’t he told her that the only people he saw were at church and the track? He was almost getting as bad as she was about going out and living life.

  “Yeah, you know, one of those women who you hang out with, maybe hold hands, kiss, that kind of thing.” Though Isla wasn’t usually snippy, when she was angry, he didn’t dare cross her.

  “Where did this question come from? I’m so confused.”

  “So you don’t deny it.” She crossed her arms and now he really felt like he’d wronged her.

  “Isla, what have I done?”

  “You bought a gift for someone six months ago, something important or it could wait. You’re all secretive about where you’ll be spending Christmas. I’m trying to put the dots together. Are you with someone…important?” She sighed. “Come on, Duncan. Talk to me?”

  He avoided her eyes as he pushed her chair into the entry and out of the way of the almost constant stream of people coming and going. He couldn’t lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her yet, either. As he lowered himself to eye level with her, the pain in her eyes took his breath away. “Isla. I bought one gift on sale, months ago. Why is this an issue?”

  Her eyes went glassy and he reached for her hands, but she tugged them away. “Where are you going for Christmas?”

  He wanted to tell her, but that would ruin the whole surprise he’d been working on for months. “I don’t know yet.” He rested his hands on her knees, praying she would understand.

  “Let’s just get this done. I’m tired after practice.” She backed her chair from him and pushed toward the second set of doors.

  “Isla, wait—”

  “What do you think I should get for Mama and Papi?”

  He couldn’t miss the sniffle in her voice, but bringing it up would make it worse. He’d known her long enough to know that she needed a little space, that he could explain until his head felt like it would explode and she wouldn’t hear him until she was good and ready. She wasn’t anywhere near ready.

  He sighed and said a prayer as he followed her into the mall, that she would listen tomorrow, or think about what he’d said and come to the right conclusion, because there was only one. The only place he wanted to be, was with her.

  11

  Another sweater. She’d bought him another stupid sweater. Isla let her head fall into her palm as she sat in front of her computer later, after their disastrous shopping trip. With him following her, trying to get her to talk about wh
y she was so angry, she couldn’t think. She couldn’t tell him that she wasn’t really angry, just hurt and jealous.

  There had to be someone else. He’d been cagey about answering her questions. Deliberately evasive. Worse, all these bucket list outings kept him from this person who was obviously important if he bought gifts way ahead of time. Duncan didn’t even buy gifts for her family more than a few weeks ahead.

  She’d contemplated sending him an email all that morning calling off the list, mostly because of number five. A kiss under the mistletoe. He couldn’t kiss her if he was seeing someone, especially someone important. Someone important enough to buy a gift for months in advance and someone he’d hidden from her. No way did she want to kiss anyone else. A slow burn built in her gut. It was her own fault; deep inside she’d been sure he would never leave her, move on to someone else. But why shouldn’t he? He was an amazing guy. He deserved to be happy.

  She’d just always hoped he’d be happy with her.

  Isla pulled up her email browser.

  D-,

  I’ve decided I’ll just drive myself to the track every day. If you need a break, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I’ve been taking up all of your evenings. It was selfish of me, and I won’t continue to take them when I should be practicing anyway.

  Isla

  She read it over again and while it had a little more “poor Isla” than she usually allowed herself, her insides were torn to pieces and the only thing that could make her forget was sweating at the track. Maybe. She hit send and wiped her eyes, then rolled back from the computer. It felt so final. At least he would still be her friend when he was married and having adorable children…

  A sob shocked her and she couldn’t see through her tears. She had to get through this, had to get back to who she’d been the week before. Her work had slipped and so had her practice schedule. Setting her shoulders, she swiped at her tears and pulled herself back to her computer. A new message from Duncan sat at the top.

  Isla,

  No. I’ll pick you up at 7:00. Have a grocery list ready.

  Duncan

  Well, now that she knew about this woman, Duncan could just skip over the more potentially intimate things on her list. He had said he wanted twelve, to give him a few to choose from. She probably wouldn’t be horseback riding, dancing, or kissing. Especially not kissing. The few items left on the list wouldn’t be anywhere near as fun as Buck Hill. Grocery shopping would be stressful, not to mention the movie. If he could even manage to find a theater where they could be alone, that was a tall order. If he couldn’t, it would be just another annoying night where she felt in the way.

  * * *

  Duncan picked up the phone on his desk, then set it down as a lanky teenage boy froze in his doorway. He tried so hard to look calm, not scared. If there was one thing Duncan wanted all the students to know, it was that they didn’t have to be scared with him.

  “Jordan.” Duncan folded his hands and leaned back in his chair, providing the boy with a guilt-free atmosphere if it was needed. And from what Duncan had guessed and heard about Jordan, he needed a space to just talk, and he needed to know he had a place he was important.

  “Duncan,” the boy mumbled. He ran a hand under his nose, his curtain of dirty brown hair falling down to cover most of his face. Maybe it wasn’t the case for all boys like Jordan, but when he’d been on the street, he’d kept his hair like that to hide. To avoid notice. “My mom says you’ve been trying to get ahold of her. You won’t ever. They work too much. Even when they come on Wednesday, they leave as fast as they can ‘cause Mom’s gotta make supper.”

  He’d noticed that, and since he was often in a small group with teenage boys on Wednesdays, he’d never had the chance to catch up with them in person.

  “What are things like outside of church?” The students knew his past, and though he wasn’t popular, the boys knew he understood things—hard things—that some other youth pastors might not.

  “Fine.” Jordan kept his eyes trained on the floor.

  “How’s school?” There had to be a way to draw Jordan out. Many boys had come to him, concerned that Jordan was not only doing drugs, but selling them. He didn’t want that in his youth group, but he didn’t want to lose Jordan, either. The Lord didn’t want for any to perish and that meant misguided sixteen-year-olds, too.

  “Don’t care. School’s stupid.”

  “That may be, but I think it’s probably a good place for you to be.” Duncan had run into most of his own problems when he was seventeen and even being able to see Isla hadn’t kept him in school. He’d skipped, fallen in with some people even worse off than him, and he’d gone down a dark path before a lady at a local shelter shook him by the shoulders and reminded him he had a purpose in life. That’s what he needed to do for Jordan, but he needed to get Jordan’s parents involved to make it happen.

  “Whatever.” Jordan stood and made to leave.

  “Hey, I know there are places that seem better than school, but those places won’t help you move out of where you are right now. They’ll just keep you there longer.” Duncan leaned forward in his chair, but stayed relaxed. Pressuring teens into doing things didn’t work. They needed structure without ever knowing your intentions.

  Jordan heard, because the hint of the brown eyes behind Jordan’s hair went cold. He turned and left the office. Duncan wasn’t even sure how Jordan had gotten there at that time of day, but he’d been too surprised by his sudden appearance to ask. It was far too close to the end of the school day to have walked. Duncan scanned the parking lot and saw a an ’80s Dodge Charger hatchback he didn’t recognize. The kid probably thought the car was stupid because it wasn’t new, not even realizing what he had. The maroon car barreled out of the lot and headed down 8th street.

  A groan fell from his lips. While the gift of a car might seem like a great way to bribe a teen into listening, it rarely worked. Now, he’d need to try even harder to keep Jordan at home.

  He picked up the receiver and dialed as he sat back down at his desk. He’d left so many messages with Jordan’s family, he’d memorized the dialog of the voicemail, and was ready to leave yet another message.

  When Mrs. Parker actually answered, he stumbled a bit to find his words.

  “Yes, hello. This is Duncan Schmitz from Cornerstone. How are you?”

  “Tired,” was her one-word answer. Yet the word said so much more. He could hear the frustration, worry, and even hurt in her voice.

  “I just spoke to Jordan—”

  “Well good. At least one of us has.” He heard her light up a cigarette on the other end.

  “I wondered if there might be a time we could meet?” he ventured. “Soon. I’m really concerned about Jordan.”

  “What did he do now? I swear, if he did anything at church…” She let the threat fall.

  “It’s nothing like that.” Duncan tried to relax, to remember she’d been working all day, and while he was scared and frustrated, he only had to deal with Jordan on Wednesdays. She had to worry and wonder always.

  “I’m worried, because some of the students have reported strange behavior in Jordan, and I want to talk to you and your husband about it.” He couldn’t straight-out accuse without proof, and he had none. But if they didn’t act fast, Jordan would disappear, just like he’d done.

  “I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you. Working is hard…this time of year…”

  It sure was, and reminding her they all had stress during that season wouldn’t help her to feel like he cared, so he kept it quiet. His job, to an outsider, would seem to have no stress at all, but that just wasn’t the case when emotions were invested.

  12

  After forcing herself to focus on work for six hours, Isla pulled some paper out of her desk and grabbed a pen. It had been quite a while since she’d gone grocery shopping. It was even worse than shopping at the mall. Everything in a grocery store was set up for people who could stand. At twenty-six years old, she
resented having to ask her mother to shop with her—or for her—so she’d just started having a delivery service do it. Bonus, they put the groceries away as well.

  After trying to think what she needed for about ten minutes, she just went into her online order and printed off her last shopping list. Since she only ever cooked for one, her menu plan didn’t change much.

  “More things for Duncan to worry about.” She tossed the paper and it floated across her desk, bounced off the computer screen, and slid to the floor. “Isla, you don’t get out enough. Isla, you don’t eat enough different food…” Her mood soured. He was slipping right out of her fingers, and it hurt.

  Normally, she would’ve watched for him, but even that felt too forward in the new awkward relationship they seemed to have. How would she ever manage to find her way back to where she had been before Buck Hill? Somehow, riding down the slope with him and laughing long and hard at how much fun it was, had transformed everything. Duncan wasn’t just Duncan anymore.

  The buzz from the intercom scared her as his voice came through the wall. “Hey, I’m here. Can you let me in?”

  She rolled quickly to the panel and punched in the code. He knocked once, then opened her door. “Hey?” His eyebrows rose, though he tried to hide his expression of worry. “I’m not sure what made you think you had bugged me earlier, but just so we can get that out of the way, you’re not taking me away from anything. I’m taking you away from something.”

  Her heart skipped and something inside her wanted to fight. As much as she wanted to spend every minute with him that she could, she refused to do it at the expense of someone else.

  “Duncan. I can’t do this. I take up so much of your life. So many years you’ve rushed right over to get me to practice after work.”