Table of Contents
Sneak Peek
Blurb
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Love Romance?
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Copyright
He was at the Olympics, and it had all been worth it.
With camera flashes coming from everywhere, he didn’t know where to look. By coincidence, Diego glanced at the big screen on the other side of the stands and saw the image of himself and Caio, side by side as they walked.
He flicked a wave at the camera, hoping his parents would see it, but out of nowhere, a dozen other athletes jumped in front of him, and he could no longer see. It was just a second of screen time before he was swallowed by a sea of people.
With a smile on his lips, Diego turned to Caio to comment about what just happened, but he almost hit his nose on Caio’s as their faces got too close. The lights were blinding him, he could see them reflecting in Caio’s eyes, could see Caio licking his lips, their gazes connected. Diego could even feel Caio’s breath on his skin.
That moment seemed to last maybe an entire set in a volleyball match, but it was a mere few seconds before they pulled away.
“Sorry,” Diego said, his cheeks warm.
Caio shook his head at him. “Oh, no worries.”
Matchpoint
By Gus Ralthocco
Beach volleyball player Caio Paraguassú is gearing up for the biggest event of his life at the Olympic Games in Paris. He’s taken part in the Games before, but this time he has his eye on the highest prize.
A gold medal would go a long way toward healing the wounds left by Caio’s former lover and volleyball partner.
Diego Torres left the sport he loved because of prejudice. Now he’s Caio’s friend, his partner in the sand, and a rising star in his own right. Together they can take on the world, or at least the world of beach volleyball.
But the exhilaration of the Olympics brings out unexpected romantic feelings. Can Caio and Diego keep their focus and find the strength to fight for the podium and their love—even if it means facing an unexpected challenger on the court?
GUS RALTHOCCO is a twentysomething writer from South America who loves romance. He grew up in the countryside, and his heart belongs to the rural pastures of the Pampas, which is why most of his stories have a home there. His first passion might not have been writing, but he made the transition from long hours editing music sheets for orchestra to studying words, as most of his stories were better told with those and not melody. An eclectic soul by nature, his talents range from using the splits as a party trick to teaching kids how to speak English. Most of his adulting time is spent in class now, which is why his heroes are more like the everyday people he sees in life. You may find him on Twitter at @GusRalthocco, where he talks sports, pets, and sometimes books.
Chapter One
DIEGO Torres eyed the ball moving across the sky as he prepared to jump. His arm reacted instinctively, creating an arc from back to front that finished when he was right up to the net, his feet off the ground, right hand coming down hard to spike the ball onto the other side.
“One down!” he shouted as he watched the ball hit the sand and roll away.
His partner on the court clapped his hands twice, urging Diego to move. Diego’s feet barely touched the sand as he ran to the back of the court so he could prepare himself for the next ball.
“Again!” the coach directed from the sidelines.
Another ball came his way, and Diego started the count of three—the number of touches a team had to send the ball over the net during a game. In this exercise Diego replicated receiving the ball from the opposing team before sending it to his partner, who would then set the ball for Diego to spike.
He repeated the motion of running toward the net to hit the ball and then did it again and again, counting each correct strike until his arm weighed him down. At the end of a set of fifteen runs, when his legs touched the sand, Diego had to crouch to the ground to rest. Then he sat and kept his head down until he saw a shadow approaching him.
“Is fifteen out of fifteen good enough for you?” Diego looked up with a challenge, though he had the edge of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
His partner, Caio Paraguassú, towered over Diego.
“You know it is.” Caio offered a hand, and Diego accepted the help to get up.
Caio had callused fingers, which was a testament to the years of experience that separated the two of them. What they had most in common at the moment was the scent of sweat and sand on their skins. It comforted Diego now that he was far from home.
The auxiliary sand courts at Champ de Mars were housed right under the Eiffel Tower in a state-of-the-art temporary sports venue. Tons of sand had been transported to this beautiful park in the middle of Paris to build the training and competition grounds for the beach volleyball competition at the Olympics.
Once upon a time, dragging his feet through the sand wasn’t where Diego expected to live out his Olympic dream. Instead, he’d wanted to be on the indoor courts, under the leadership of someone like Bernardinho, but it wasn’t meant to be.
“Should we do some more reps?” Diego exhaled and tested out his knees for a minute before he rolled up.
“No. You don’t want to overdo it. And you don’t need to.” Caio shook his head, but the praise in his words was recognition of all the hard work Diego had put in.
They had worked a lot—perhaps too much at times—because Caio groaned as he stretched his arms. Caio most likely felt the toll of the practice session more than Diego did, even though he was still in prime condition. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as Caio threaded his fingers behind the nape of his neck and rested them on his shaved head, exposing his armpits.
Diego had to turn away from the image. Seeing his partner exposed always caused a rush of blood in his veins. He wanted to smell Caio up close, or lick him, but that felt wrong. And the worst was that Diego thought it was only physical at first, but it had become more than that.
They both moved on to stretching as their coach and the young assistant who followed her around picked up their stuff at the bench beside the court. Diego concentrated on his breathing as he reviewed the drills they had practiced. There were still a few videos for them to watch and analyze before the first game, but they had prepared themselves for this competition over time. They needed to rely on what they had built together up to this moment.
“Good practice, guys.” Marina Paraguassú, their coach and Caio’s sister, handed them towels. Her young assistant, and Caio’s daughter, Alice Paraguassú, brought water bottles for them.
“Thanks.” Caio accepted a bottle from Alice and bumped knuckles with his kid.
“Your reflexes have gone back to their usual accuracy. I feel like now we’re ready to play,” commented Marina.
With a nod, Diego agreed. She handed him a towel so he could wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“Water?” Alice held out a couple of bottles.
“Yup. Thanks, Princess Jellyfish.” Diego took the water and offered his fist for another bump. Alice complied.
In their group of four, Diego felt like the odd one out. Caio, Marin
a, and Alice were tied by blood, and it wasn’t hard to see how they were all related. The three of them had dark hair and tanned skin, big eyes with arched brows, wide and full lips—all the good traits of the gene pool. The differences between them were mostly in their personalities, which Diego had gotten to know and appreciate since he came into their world.
“So, I talked to your parents during their layover in Rome,” Marina said as she looked at Diego and accepted the dirty towel back so she could put it back in their bags.
“Yeah?” He finished his water.
“They’ll be landing here in a couple of hours, just in time for the Opening Ceremony tonight.”
“Good.”
Marina arranged all their travel itineraries and looked for the best deals so they all could fly to France and watch the Olympics. Diego’s parents didn’t have the chance to be at most of his competitions outside of Brazil, but this time they deemed it too important an event to miss, for which Diego was glad.
“What about our roommates? Any idea when they’re getting here?” As soon as Diego asked, he saw the frown that appeared on his partner’s face.
“The Fed didn’t update me on their schedule,” said Marina. She glanced at her brother, and concern clouded her features for a moment. “But don’t worry about them.”
The roommates she said not to worry about were the other pair of volleyball players from Brazil. Adônis and Elton would be sharing an apartment with Diego and Caio at the village, and the usual level of animosity between the teams would play a part in their life together for the coming weeks.
“Well, I think we need to clear this court,” Marina announced. There was another group of athletes coming toward the court they were in, and Caio checked his watch before he motioned with his head to the rest of their stuff right outside the lines.
“Back to our room, again,” muttered Alice and crossed her arms with a sigh.
“I’m sorry, Princess.” As they moved, Caio stepped close to his daughter and picked her up. Diego glanced at them but couldn’t hear what Caio was saying to her.
The team from the Netherlands dropped their bags beside the bench that served the court, and both teams greeted each other as Diego and the others put on their shoes to leave.
“Is there anything else we need to know about tonight?” Diego asked Marina as the four of them made their way out of the backstage area of the arena and came into the main plaza. It was still empty, but the first competition matches would start the next day.
“You two got your uniforms for tonight, right?” Marina asked.
“Yeah,” Diego confirmed.
“And you got the info about transportation to the stadium?”
“The Brazilian Olympic Committee sent us an email yesterday. And we’ll receive a text with the allotted times for each group of athletes to leave, so we’ve got that covered.”
She nodded, seemingly satisfied.
As they reached the gates of the arena, the small group had to part ways. If only Marina were with them, she could have stayed in the village, but they didn’t allow other family members in with the athletes. So the girls were staying in a hotel in the city and commuting to the competition by car, which was a bit of a nightmare in Paris, as Marina found out on the first day.
“Okay, Princess, you need to go with Aunt Marina.” Caio raised his voice and Alice’s smile died on her lips. She released the hold on her father’s neck, and Caio let her down.
“Take care.” Marina embraced Caio in a hug and kissed his cheek. Then she did the same with Diego. Meanwhile, Alice’s full lips arranged themselves into a pout as she swayed on the balls of her feet.
“Love you, Princess Jellyfish.”
“You too, Daddy.” She walked backward and waved at Caio before she turned to Diego. “Bye, Didi.”
He also lifted his hand for a wave.
Diego and Caio stood for a moment as they watched Marina lead Alice by her hand toward the parking lot. Alice looked back a couple of times until the pair turned to the side and disappeared from view.
On the bus back to the Olympic Village, Caio was silent, but that was nothing unusual. He looked out the window while Diego checked the notifications on his phone. Diego rolled his eyes at the spam messages on some of his pictures on Instagram, liked comments from his fans, and then scrolled down to see what people were posting.
Halfway through the ride, Caio leaned a leg against his, and Diego lost his focus for a moment. The warm skin, still damp with sweat, easily slid onto his. It was warm, yet a shiver ran down Diego’s leg. He didn’t move away.
It was a short moment of secret enjoyment, because soon enough they alighted at the Cité du Cinema, where one of the gates into the Olympic Village was located.
Inside the complex, the buildings rose five or six stories and were painted in shades of white so the flags hanging off the balconies would be the focus of attention. The myriad colors played well with the official art of the Games—a flower shaped with the outline of the continents, painted in reds, pinks, and yellows. With those colors everywhere, the city of Paris seemed to be in a constant sunset all day.
Security checked them in without delay, and right up ahead, the Brazilian tower was unmistakable. The colors of the flag appeared on the glass door at the entrance and on the small garden beds on the sides of the path, showing a level of care that made the athletes feel like the most important people in the world, even if only for a couple of weeks.
A group of girls were standing outside the door, and upon recognizing Diego, they called out his name. He knew them in passing, followed them on social media, perhaps even exchanged a DM with one or two, so he raised his hand to wave at them but made no motion to stop.
The commotion brought Caio from his quiet state. He huffed out a laugh as they passed the group, but his eyes were staring ahead when Diego glanced at him.
“What was that?” Diego inquired. He made to elbow Caio in the ribs, but Caio escaped from the offending jab.
There were athletes coming and going, so they exchanged greetings before Caio opened his mouth.
“Seems like someone’s popular.”
Diego scoffed.
The skin around Caio’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Sorry you’re always stuck with me, but you’ll be free from me after the competition.”
Diego didn’t want that, though. Not at all.
They made their way up to their floor, previous encounter with the girls forgotten.
They both showered, and during the few hours of downtime, Diego edited pictures to post to his Instagram account, deleted some of the old stuff on his phone, and checked out the newest comments on his posts. On the other bed, Caio napped for an hour.
The afternoon was still too warm, so before Diego started to get ready, he took another quick shower. His partner only woke up when Diego was checking out his parade uniform, and then Caio went into the bathroom and came out shaved and half dressed fifteen minutes later.
They were still alone in the apartment.
“So, I need your help,” said Caio as he came to Diego’s side of the room. He looked down and shrugged as he pointed to his open shirt, showing off his naked chest. “I can’t get this buttoned up.”
“I’ll do them for you,” Diego offered, only belatedly realizing how that would put him right into Caio’s space.
“Yeah?” Caio pointed to his own chest.
Diego nodded because he didn’t want to say anything damning when there was so much skin in front of his eyes. Caio almost loomed over him, given their height difference. He smelled of soap, and there was a tantalizing trail of hair from his navel down to his pants, which Diego knew well from all the time they’d spent together in the summer. He forced himself to look up, but those brown eyes weren’t easy to ignore either. At least only Diego could feel the flutter of his heart.
“What can I expect from tonight?” He tried to distract himself by talking about something else. Diego’s fingers fumbled a bit as he got th
e first button in place, but then he managed to make his way up without a problem.
“It’s a big party. I’m sure you’re going to like it.”
“Because I’m not as old as you are?” Diego raised an eyebrow at Caio, who said nothing but didn’t deny it.
There were more than ten years between them. Diego was enjoying his twenties, going to parties and meeting new people, although that never hindered his training. In the months leading up to the Olympics, he’d been going out a lot less, which helped him realize that he had very few friends. The game was almost all he had on his mind, anyway.
As for Caio, in his midthirties, he was already counting the days until he said goodbye to his competitive career. He had plans for the future, which included more time with his family and maybe doing something with the sport away from the big arenas. Since Diego was just starting out, he wished Caio would stay for a while longer, if only to offer some support in the coming years.
When he finished buttoning Caio’s shirt, right at his neck, Diego stepped back.
“All done.” He didn’t let out the sigh of relief that wanted to come out of his chest.
“Thanks.”
No sooner were they ready when Diego’s phone pinged with a message that it was time to leave. He went by the bathroom to check out his uniform one last time. He wore blue shorts and a bright yellow shirt coupled with white shoes, a green jacket, and a monstrosity of a hat.
When he turned around, Caio was waiting for him by the door.
“You clean up nice.”
“I know you’re trying to make me feel good about all of this.” Diego pointed at the clash of colors.
“I didn’t think I needed to,” Caio commented, and Diego didn’t want to read too much into it.
The hallway was in chaos, and the lobby wasn’t any different. Surrounded by so many conversations and accents, Diego pulled out his phone to do a couple of stories for his Instagram.
The operation to transport the athletes to the Olympic Stadium was slow but orderly, and everyone needed to be patient. Nevertheless, the Brazilian team managed to turn it into a party, with phones blinking in colorful lights, some samba, pagode, and sertanejo playing as people sang the lyrics of the songs and clapped to the beat.
Matchpoint Page 1
