Cycling Downhill: A Sweet Young Adult Romance (Love is a Triathlon Book 3)

by Chrissy Q Martin

  Frozen to the stairs, I finger the first-place medal around my neck. The ribbon is the color of Dylan’s eyes and connected to a gold medal. There’s a trident on the medal, like one Aquaman would use. I laugh at myself for not having noticed it before. I rush down the stairs, hoping I’m not too late.

  I whip the medal off my neck and push my way through people in the hallway to the lobby. Dylan walks through the exit door, and I stumble after with my heart pounding harder than when I raced today. The cool air nips at my sweaty skin, pushing goosebumps out, but it could be the nerves coursing through me doing the same thing.

  “Dylan!” I yell his name, thinking of the first time he kissed me. He yelled my name in the hallway of a school and pulled me into a kiss.

  Dylan’s posture is stooped and defeated, but he turns around on the sidewalk to face me and pushes the curls out of his eyes. “Ashley.”

  With confidence and all the assurance I’m doing the right thing, I step up to Dylan, stretch on my tiptoes, and place my medal around his neck. “You win.”

  Dylan furrows his brows and looks down into my eyes. “I didn’t race.”

  A smile spreads across my face and I slowly inch my fingers up the ribbon around Dylan’s neck. I let my hands climb up his chest until they’re below his chin. Gripping the ribbon, I use it to pull Dylan’s face toward mine. “I choose you,” I whisper, never letting my eyes leave his.

  I drape my arms around Dylan’s neck, and he doesn’t resist when I pull him into a kiss. He wraps his arms around my waist and draws me in even closer. Dylan’s lips are soft on mine, and he brings a hand to my face, deepening the kiss as if every breath I take is his. His fingers run through my hair and trail down my cheek before we pull away a tiny amount. Dylan’s nose brushes up against mine and I feel his warm breath on my lips.

  “Are you giving me a second chance?” he whispers.

  A small chuckle escapes me. I’m the one who needs the second chance. “Are you going to date me for real this time?”

  “This is only the beginning,” Dylan says before he pulls me in for another kiss.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Dylan leans against the driver’s door of his car. My medal is around his neck, and I lean into his chest.

  “This feels all too good to be true,” Dylan whispers into my hair. He sounds like a former version of myself. I know the feeling. The feeling it could come crashing down at any moment. “And I need you to be sure.”

  I pull my head away from Dylan’s chest and look up at his eyes. I tug on the medal around his neck. The turquoise ribbon matches his eye color. “How much surer do you need me to be?” I stand on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his lips. “Is that enough?”

  “It is.” Then Dylan shakes his head. “But I need you to do something for me.”

  I smile and run my hands up and down his arms. The ridges of his muscles rise and fall under my touch. “Anything. I do owe you a date since you missed this one.”

  Dylan doesn’t smile back at me like I expect him to. “Take it with Turner,” he says.

  Dylan always likes to surprise me, but I never would have anticipated this. “You want me to go on a date with Paul? What if I don’t want to?” I ask.

  “He’s doing it for you with Bridgette, isn’t he?” I nod in reply to Dylan’s question. I told him about Paul going out with Bridgette this afternoon. “You do this for me. It doesn’t have to be a date. It can just be a kiss. I want you to know for sure where you stand with either of us.”

  I grip Dylan’s arms tight. “I do know. It’s you.”

  Dylan runs his hands over the top of my head, smoothing my hair and letting his fingers trail down my ponytail. “Then do this for me. Just to be sure.”

  “You want me to kiss another guy when I want to kiss you? When you want to kiss me?” The reasoning behind this doesn’t make any sense. I’m giving Dylan what he wants. I’m choosing him, and he’s telling me to kiss my ex-boyfriend.

  “I’m still your friend no matter what, and I want you to be happy. I don’t want you regretting a choice you make,” Dylan says.

  “I’m tired of you two thinking you can persuade me to make a choice. First Paul with college and now you with Paul. I know what I want.” I keep my eyes fiercely on Dylan’s.

  Dylan chuckles and places a small kiss on my forehead. “You’re right. And I love when you know what you want.”

  “Good. Because it’s you,” I say. “Now are you going to kiss me?”

  Dylan’s dimple pops and he bends over to place his lips on mine. Each kiss with him is better than the one before and yet, Dylan’s voice is in my head making me wonder if I’d feel like this kissing Paul. Dylan pulls away from me, his hands caressing my face. “You still owe me.”

  I groan and smack his chest with the palm of my hand. “Fine, you win. What do you want me to do?”

  “Prom is in one week,” Dylan says, and I nod, thinking of the dress Mom bought me. Is he going to ask me to prom? “During this next week we don’t see each other or talk to each other.”

  “You’re kidding.” I start to complain because this isn’t him asking me to prom, and he shakes his head.

  “Next Saturday I’ll be at my house, like we planned,” Dylan says. “During this week you go on a date with Turner or kiss him or something to figure out where you stand with him. If you still choose me, you show up at my house like we planned. If not, I only wish the best for you and Turner.”

  I lean my forehead into Dylan’s chest. His heart beats hard, and it pulses on my forehead. “You’d better have my coconut jellybeans for me when I get there,” I say into his shirt. “Because I’m going to need them after a week of not talking to you.”

  I don’t want to miss anything, and I think I know what I want, but maybe I’m missing what matters. Dylan is true to his word. After one last kiss in the gym parking lot, he leaves me. I won’t be with him for a week. Or forever.

  I lie on my bed and hold my phone over my face.

  Paul: Can I come over tonight?

  His date with Bridgette must be over and I haven’t answered his text. The thought of what I owe Dylan swells into every portion of my body, but I can’t make my finger type out the response on the phone. I need to sort out my thoughts. I set the phone down, lurch up, and pop off my bed. The birthday present Dylan gave me sits on my dresser. Just seeing it there, with my name engraved on it, soothes me, but I’ve never opened it to write. Now is a good time to start.

  I grab the journal and one of the pens Dylan gave me. Sitting on the bed, I let my fingers run over the soft cover of the book, and they trace over my name. Ashley Stampford. Maybe writing my feelings in words will help me discover the answer.

  I push open the cover for the first time, and there in the beginning, something is already written.

  Ashley,

  I hope all your wishes and dreams come true.

  Love, Dylan

  I remember the wish I made on the stars on Dylan’s deck during spring break. In one sentence Dylan’s written everything for me. I grab my phone and reply to Paul’s text.

  Me: Yes. I need to see you

  I twist Paul’s medal in my hand while I wait for him to arrive. It’s dark outside, and I watch through the window for the lights of his truck. My heart hammers in my chest and nerves course through me. I feel like the broken pieces of my heart have healed, but there’s still parts I can’t see. Parts that Paul brings into the light, and parts Dylan brings out. I know Dylan’s having me do this to put the pieces together, and to make sure I clearly see what I want. But I’m afraid. I know if I don’t kiss Paul, I’ll stay with Dylan. But will I always wonder about what could have been? Things changed after I kissed Dylan, and my feelings could change if I kiss Paul. What if I’m meant to be with him?

  Light floods through the window by the entry of the house and I rush outside when
Paul’s truck pulls in my driveway. Paul is smiling when he gets out and I approach him. He closes the door of his truck.

  “Hey, you.” Paul uses his special greeting for me.

  “How was your date?” I ask. My steps slow, and I stand a foot from Paul.

  “We’re better as friends.” Paul says the line I’ve been telling people about Dylan and me. “Can I ask you something?”

  Nerves continue to course through me, and once again, I can’t tell if I’m excited or nervous. “I need to ask you something too,” I say and close the gap between us. “But let me do this first.” The medal is in my hand and I stretch out the ribbon. Reaching up, I place the award around Paul’s neck and let my hands linger on his chest. “Congratulations on winning.”

  “I had the best partner,” Paul says. He rests his hands on my waist. “I’m sorry about this year, about breaking up with you, about Bridgette, and everything that happened. You deserve for every wish of yours to come true.”

  My heart hitches a beat. “I made a wish,” I whisper.

  “I have too,” Paul says. His fingers dance on my hip bones and he pulls me closer. “Will you go to prom with me?”

  I look up and meet Paul’s eyes. “Will you kiss me?”

  A huge smile, bigger than I’ve ever seen before on Paul, spreads across his face. “As you wish.”

  Paul brings his lips to mine, and I know what I want. Today I’ve awarded medals to two boys who each hold a place in my heart, but only one is the winner.

  FORTY-NINE

  This is the most perfect senior prom ever. My date pulls me in close, his arms wrapped around my waist as we dance to the soft music playing in the background. Mom was right, I do have a reason to wear the dress she bought me. It’s been a week since the triathlon, a week since I first chose Dylan, a week since he told me to kiss Paul, and a week since I did. My choice didn’t change after kissing Paul, it was simply strengthened in my mind. There’s only one guy I want to be with.

  “Dylan.” I love saying his name. I lift my cheek off his chest and look up into his eyes, which match the color of my dress and shoes. “You knew I’d show up.”

  The fingers of one of his hands runs along my jawline and he bends to give me a small, light kiss. “I hoped and wished you would, but I wasn’t certain. My mom, on the other hand, was positive you’d show. She helped me set this all up, thinking you shouldn’t miss your prom.”

  We’re on the back patio at the Arnold’s house, overlooking the lake. Strands of linked bulbs hang overhead while a fire in the outdoor fireplace keeps us warm. Large garden balls glow in soft pastel colors and are scattered on the grass near the patio. Music plays over speakers. There’s even a bowl of coconut jellybeans. It’s a private prom, and the most perfect one ever.

  “It’s a good thing I wore a dress.” On a whim, I threw it on before I came over here. I don’t often surprise Dylan, and I wanted to surprise him by showing up and wearing a dress. I paired it with my Converse sneakers the same color as Dylan’s eyes.

  “You could wear your swimsuit or sweats and I wouldn’t care,” Dylan says. “But you do look beautiful tonight.”

  I feel a blush come over my cheeks and rest one against Dylan’s chest. “What happens now?” I ask.

  “We have all night,” Dylan replies.

  “I mean, after. After tonight.” I’m reassured in Dylan’s arms, but I need to hear it.

  “Since I won the bet, we get to work together all summer,” Dylan says, and my heart pitter patters in a delighted way. “We’ll only be an hour away at college. It seems two of your best friends will be at the same one, and there will be lots of visits.”

  An earlier version of me would be worried about us going to different colleges, but the newer version isn’t. I’ve been through enough stuff this year to know there are some things I don’t have to worry about.

  “What are your plans?” Dylan asks.

  “I’m done making plans,” I say. “I’m putting you in charge of plans.” I lift my head off his chest and look around at what he set up in hopes I’d come. “Obviously, you’re good with plans.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” Dylan says. “But all my plans will include you.”

  “Why me?” I ask. I’ve never asked him this, and maybe his answer has changed, but I want to know.

  “Why not you? You’re all I need to make me happy.”

  A warmth floods me at Dylan’s words. “Remember the night we wished on a star on the deck of your room?” I ask.

  “Mmhmm.” Dylan mumbles into my hair, his hands caressing my back.

  “My wish came true.”

  “What was it?” he asks.

  “I made a wish for you.”

  “For me?” Dylan’s hands still on my back. I’ve surprised him again.

  “I didn’t make a wish for myself,” I say. “I wished for you to get whatever makes you happy.”

  Dylan’s smile radiates through him and passes through me. “It’s you,” he whispers, bringing his lips near mine. “You make me happy.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to all the wonderful readers who journeyed along with Ash during her senior year and crossed the finish line of her story. I am humbled by the outpouring of encouragement, support, and fun shared through this series. When it comes to one girl and two boys, I know everyone will be on a different team. There’s only one winner for Ash, but every reader is the winner! Thank you to everyone leaving reviews, they buoy me up when it gets turbulent. It brings a smile to my face when we get to interact on Instagram, or you watch my YouTube videos. And welcome if you popped on my website and joined my swim team of loyal readers. My ARC readers are the best!

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my teacher and coach, Maureen Thielen. Dylan’s mom, Maureen, is the only character in this series to have a name borrowed from someone in my life. Ms. Thielen was a swimmer, Ironman athlete, marathon runner, and amazing person. A dedicated P.E. teacher, she was my middle school cross country coach, and an assistant coach while I was on the high school swim team. I was the slowest runner, yet she treated me like the fastest. I still remember her awarding me a box of animal crackers for being the “Animal of the Week” at practice. She even attended my wedding and sent me Christmas cards every year up until her death from cancer. Her memory will live on in her family, and in every student she touched. I still think of her and her timeless encouragement when I swim, run, and bike.

  As always, my best friends, Christy Dunfee and Mariasol Gutierrez Roberts, are my book baby godmothers. They’re the ones who first read the unexpected plot points (Paul breaking up with Ash was originally at the end of book two) and shout, “What?!” and then I know I may have done something right, or horribly wrong. They get excited with me over the little things, and I’m thankful to have them in my life to share the good and bad days. We have a string of texts which could fill books. Christy and Sol – you both get a cute little gnome knitting a heart from a yarn ball.

  For my husband and kids, who put up with my never-ending talk of books. They get to see me happy dancing and squealing over the good stuff, see me shed tears over the sad, and watch me pull my hair out when stuff isn’t quite working out and I make endless mistakes. In the end, it all comes together, and they’re the bookbinding in my story of life. I love them more than any words I can write.

  As always, I’m thankful to God, and the path he’s taking me on. I’m happy to follow His plans, because they’re so much better than the ones I imagine on my own. He helps me through the tough stuff and reminds me I’m blessed.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chrissy Q Martin loves swoon-worthy stories and happy endings. She writes YA books with laughs, feelings, a little drama, and sweet kisses. A Midwestern born girl; Chrissy now lives in the mountains of the Southwest with her family. When she’s not writing, you’ll find Chrissy trying
to keep up with her husband and two kids on mountain bikes and snowboards. A former competitive swimmer, Chrissy met her husband on their college swim team. She still loves to swim, but also enjoys trail running. Many of Chrissy’s YA stories include a teen girl in sports.Chocolate, coffee, books, friends, and family are all favorite things. And being awkward is something Chrissy is completely fine with.

  You can catch up with Chrissy and her upcoming new releases at www.chrissyqmartin.com