He smirks. “We will see about that.” Clearing his throat, he looks around and then shouts, “Bodi! Looking sharp, man.”

  From the right, I see Bodi walking by himself, his phone in his hand and a flag in the other. No one is talking to him, and he barely has a smile on his face. I’m actually surprised to even see him walking. We have early morning races tomorrow and it’s been known that swimmers take the night off from opening ceremonies so they get enough rest before the big day. I’m not one of those swimmers; I’m going to perform the same if I get two hours of sleep or eight hours. My fellow Americans want to see their athletes parade, so I go to represent.

  Not really saying anything, Bodi just nods his head in our direction.

  “Hey, get over here,” I call out to Bodi, who looks very uncomfortable.

  Moving past a few female swimmers who he doesn’t even take a second glance at, he walks next to me and gives me a half-pat on the shoulder, half-hug when I reach out to him.

  “You have to walk with us, it’s my last opening ceremony.”

  He sadly smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’m going to miss having you in the lane next to me.”

  “Same here, man.”

  We smirk at each other just as Hollis jumps up behind us and wraps his arms around both our necks. “You know the cameras are eating this up right now. I can hear Bob Costas.” In a very good Bob Costas kind of voice, Hollis says, “Olympic royalty walking together, joining forces to represent this country, it doesn’t get more memorable than that.”

  A deep laugh pushes through Bodi, and I swear both Hollis and I stare at him a little dumbfounded. I don’t acknowledge the foreign sound but Hollis doesn’t have as much class or candor as I do.

  “Holy shit, Bodi Banks just laughed at one of my jokes.” Fist pumping the air, he screams, “Best night ever!”

  I shake my head at my friend as he starts skipping through the crowd of athletes, informing them of Bodi’s laugh. He’s a complete and total fart. I don’t know why I’m friends with him.

  “You can say it, he’s an asshat,” I say to Bodi who is watching Hollis with curiosity.

  “He’s definitely strange.” Clearing his throat, he looks down at his phone, a text message appearing on his screen.

  I shove my shoulder against his and say, “Who’s the girl?”

  “What?” His head snaps up at me and the smile that was once on his face disappears. “There’s no girl.”

  I don’t buy it, and I let him know that with one lift of my brow.

  Sighing, his shoulder deflates and he rubs the front of his face with his hands. “Remember that girl I told you about, the seamstress?”

  “Yeah, uh what was her name? Ruth?”

  “Ruby.”

  “Yes, Ruby. What about her? Do you like her?”

  He just nods his head. “I shouldn’t though.”

  So not the time to have a deep conversation about our feelings but I’ve never been able to talk to Bodi about anything other than swimming, so the fact that he’s opening up right now is not going to stop me from prying. Sorry opening ceremony, this is more important.

  “Why not? Does she have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” he snaps at me rather quickly. “She’s, uh,” he pauses and rubs the back of his neck, “she’s way too good for me. I have demons and she’s so fucking joyful and happy that I feel like I’m bringing her down.”

  Seriously, weirdest conversation ever to have with Bodi right now. Not the best timing or venue but then again, I wonder if he’s saying this because the feeling is eating him alive. Maybe he needs to get it off his chest so it doesn’t consume him during his races. Normally, I would love nothing more than to see Bodi trailing behind me in the pool, but I’m not one to be handed anything. If I win gold, I want to win it fair and square, and that means making sure my competition is primed and ready to go.

  “Are you in a relationship with her?”

  “Sort of,” he says, cringing. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.”

  I nod and then say, “You know what, Bodi? Sometimes we have to take what’s given to us, no matter how much we don’t think we deserve it. This is my last Olympics. I want a gold more than fucking anything, you and I both know that, but I also want to earn it. Ruby must think she deserves you if she wants to be a part of your life. I say, accept it and focus on your races. You’ll regret it if you don’t, not just for a solid competition, but because, from the looks of it, the girl makes you happy, and isn’t that what matters?”

  Bodi goes to answer when Hollis jumps in front of us, two flags clutched in his hand. “America!” he screams at the top of his lungs and once again, wraps his arm around my neck, prancing around like a flamboyant elf. I look back at Bodi whose brow is scrunched. He’s studying his phone. Right when I’m about to beat Hollis off me, Bodi’s face softens and a smile takes place as he types on his phone.

  We’re not the best of friends, Bodi and I, but after these games, I plan on fixing that. He’s good people, and from the looks of it, he needs more friends.

  ***

  “I hate this,” Paisley says in our FaceTime chat, her head resting on her hotel pillow and her black fair framing her beautiful face. “Why can’t you stay in a hotel with me? Or why can’t I stay in your dorm with you?”

  “Rules, baby.”

  “But they have condoms everywhere there.”

  “I told you athletes have a driving libido.” Mistake number one: forgetting to tell Paisley I couldn’t stay with her while in Rio. Mistake number two: telling her about the bowls of condoms all over the dorms.

  “What if some girl comes waltzing into your dorm and just throws condoms at you and takes her shirt off.” I can’t help but laugh, despite the worry in her voice. “Reese, I’m serious.”

  In between chuckles, I say, “If for some reason, a woman comes up to my secure dorm room, throws condoms at me, and then takes off her shirt, I will be sure to give her a high five, maybe take my shirt off too and celebrate, nipple to nipple style.”

  “Oh my God,” she says, sitting up on the bed.

  “Christ, he’s playing with you,” I hear in the background, Melony calling out to her. Lucky for Paisley, she gets to share a room with Melony. Ruby unfortunately has to share a room with Pocket. Yes, Ruby is in attendance because heaven forbid production on Bellini’s doggy clothing line should stop, or Bellini should trust someone to do the job without hovering for one second. Bellini is so obsessed with Ruby’s work, that she refuses to leave her alone with the clothing. Therefore, she will be in attendance during the races as well, which I’m sure she is more than pleased about, given the information I found out at the opening ceremony.

  “You don’t know that,” Paisley says to Melony. “Maybe the condom thrower herself is hiding in his closet.”

  “Do I need to give you a tour again? You won’t find one condom thrower in here. Now, are we going to talk, or are we going to have a hysterical conversation about people who take their shirts off and touch nipples?”

  “I like the nipple-touching conversation, personally,” Melony calls out.

  Paisley turns to her friend. “Oh really? Maybe I should tell Reese about the little conversation we had on the airplane.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Melony says sharply, warning in her voice.

  “Oh, what conversation?”

  “Nothing,” Melony calls out. “Paisley . . .”

  A huge grin spreads across Paisley’s face right before she says, “She had a sex dream about Hollis.”

  “I hate you,” Melony yells. “Jesus, Paisley, you couldn’t keep that to yourself?”

  Leaning into the phone, Paisley whispers, “She straight-up had a wet dream.”

  Coming up from behind, Melony is preparing for war by the way her hand rests on her hip and her lips quirk to the side.

  “You know, Reese, it was a really long flight. We talked about a lot of things, isn’t that right, Paisley?”

  Right t
hen and there, my girl perks up and her face sobers. “Don’t you dare—”

  “Paisley sprays your cologne all over her body before she leaves your house so she can smell you all day.”

  “How dare you,” Paisley says, causing me to laugh.

  “Baby, that’s hot. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “She sprays it on her underwear,” Melony adds with a smirk.

  “No, I fucking don’t,” Paisley practically screams. “That was made up, Reese. I don’t spray my underwear with your cologne.” The phone is dropped and my view is of the ceiling now as I hear Paisley and Melony wrestling and laughing.

  From a distance, Paisley calls out, “Melony actually really likes Hollis.”

  “Fuck . . . you.” Melony grunts just before she calls out, “Paisley used to have a poster of you on her wall in college. You were the first person she ever masturbated to.”

  “MELONY,” Paisley screams in horror. “Oh my God.”

  That really gets my attention. “Hey,” I call out over their wrestling, “Paisley,” I say a little louder but get nothing.

  “I can’t believe you told him that.” Paisley’s voice sounds strained and I really wish I could see what the hell is going on.

  “Yeah, who cares? Now Reese is going to run off and tell Hollis what you said.”

  “Paisley,” I call out louder. “I’m going to fucking hang up if you don’t pick up this phone.”

  That gets her attention. I hear a thud and then a scramble to the phone. The camera focuses on my girl, her hair askew as well as her shirt.

  From behind, I see Melony stalking her prey and before she can pounce, I say, “Melony, give me twenty minutes alone with Paisley, and I swear on everything I won’t tell Hollis what you said. But you have to give me some time.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because getting my girl off over FaceTime is a hell of a lot more important to me than my loyalty to Hollis, so go hang out in the lobby so I can have some privacy.”

  Stomping off, I hear her say, “God, you two are gross.”

  The door to their room shuts and from the blush on Paisley’s face, I can tell we are truly alone now.

  “I’m embarrassed . . .”

  Why do I have to be in a different room than her? Why, at this moment, do we have to be so close, yet so far apart? All I want to do is wrap her in my arms and kiss the blush right out of those cheeks of hers.

  “Why are you embarrassed?” I ask. “You should be ashamed.”

  “Ashamed?” she asks, a little taken aback.

  “Yeah, I blatantly asked you if you ever masturbated to a picture of mine and do you remember what you said?” She bites her bottom lip, not saying a word. “Pretty sure you said, no. So, you can understand my confusion when Melony says you had a poster of me on your wall and you stared at me when touching yourself for the first time. So which is it, Paisley? And don’t lie to me again, you won’t like the consequences.”

  She continues to nibble on that lip of hers, making me grow hard as hell in seconds. “Um, what Melony said is true.”

  “Fuck . . . that’s hot,” I mutter.

  She flops her body on the cushions of her bed and from my viewpoint, I can see she’s not wearing a bra. Her shirt clings to her, showing how round and full they are. Her nipples are hard and I wonder if they are aching for my mouth, for my touch.

  “Take your shirt off, Paisley.”

  “Reese—”

  “No, you don’t get a say in this. I need to see you naked and stretched out on that bed, baby. I’m hard as a fucking rock right now just thinking about what Melony said. Give me some release.”

  Putting the phone down on the bed, I hear her shuffle around as I wait with anticipation, my cock growing with each passing moment. I grab hold of it and leisurely stroke up and down, waiting for Paisley to return.

  Some more shuffling occurs and then her beautiful face comes into view. She is holding the phone close so I can’t really see if she listened to what I demanded, but before I can ask, she’s smiling and moving the camera down her body. I see her perfect breasts, nipples hard and piercings on display. From there, she continues to move the camera farther down her tight stomach to her hand that is cradling her pussy. From the angle she’s giving me, I can see her legs are spread and she’s already started to warm herself up.

  “Fuck, Paisley, you’re so hot.”

  “Only for you,” she says with a whisper.

  I spend the next ten minutes, telling her exactly how I want her to touch her body, bringing us both to climax at the same time. It’s the release I need for tomorrow. I’ve been tense and this little FaceTime session was perfectly timed.

  Before we get off the phone, I speak softly when I say, “Thank you, Paisley, for being at the games, for supporting me.”

  Her eyes go soft and a small smile caresses her face. So beautiful. “You don’t have to thank me, Reese. I would be here for you no matter what. I’m just glad I get to be here in person. It’s kind of a dream come true.”

  “It is for me too.”

  We’re quiet for a second when she says, “You’re going to do great tomorrow.” I have my first race tomorrow. The 400 Individual Medley. We have heats and finals, I feel prepared.

  “Thanks, baby.” I sigh and say, “I wish I could walk around the village with you tomorrow. Hold your hand and be total tourists.”

  “Me too,” she says quietly. “But hey, you have a big race tomorrow, your first. I will be there early in the morning to cheer you on.”

  “Can’t wait. I’m feeling really good, baby.”

  “You’re going to do amazing, Reese. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Thanks. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  **PAISLEY**

  “Heaven forbid they hold these things at a decent hour. What is so important that we have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn only to have to sit in uncomfortable seats made to torture people like Rosie O’Donnell and Robocop, while men prance around a disease-infested vat of water? I feel like we are back in Salem during the witch trials where we are trying to decide who to sacrifice next. My vote is on the clam-looking gentleman with the tattoo on his right hip that is in the shape of a fella’s semen.”

  “I think that is a tattoo of a swim icon,” Melony points out.

  “Oh, what do you know, you stupid cantaloupe,” Bellini mutters while moving in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Getting her to Barra Olympic Park was a feat on its own. Not because she had to wake up early and be primped by Melony and briefed by Jasper and me, but because she wasn’t permitted to bring Pope Francis. The tears were nearly Melony’s undoing. Pretty sure she was on the verge of stabbing Bellini with an eyeliner pencil today. Luckily, we were able to calm her down just enough for Melony to get her job done.

  How did we calm her down you might ask? Oh, just an entire pack of Tic Tacs, videos of Pope Francis during the trip from the hotel to the venue, and reassurance from Pocket that Pope Francis was going to be just fine. She stayed behind with the dog while Melony, Ruby, and I traveled to the stadium with Bellini.

  Currently, Ruby is attached to Bellini’s hip at all times. I feel bad for her. Because Granny’s Garments apparently messed up Bellini’s religious wear for dogs, Ruby had to suffer the consequences. She wasn’t allowed to sew unless Bellini was in her presence.

  It is all so ridiculous, only someone with an obscene amount of money would do. At least Ruby is being paid well, and her sewing ability seems to be impressing Bellini. She’s already made a few outfits that have pleased the devil herself.

  “Boring!” Bellini shouts from the side of her mouth, cupping her hand near her lips to further project her rudeness.

  “Bellini,” I chastise. “That’s rude.”

  Looking me up and down, Bellini snaps back. “Well, it’s rude that you refuse to brush your
hair when you’re around but you don’t see me chastising you, now do you?”

  Is she kidding? Every single day I’m with her she talks about how I don’t brush my hair. At first, I took extra time in the morning to make sure it was brushed more than normal. I even bought some anti-friz serum to calm any flyaway hair, make it look more silky. However, when she continued her little digs, I gave up. There was no use. I brush my hair. I know it, Reese knows it, and Melony knows it, that’s all that really matters to me at this point.

  “Ugh,” she moans, draping herself over the chair, her legs dangling over the stranger next to her and leaning on Ruby. “This is torture. I’ve done some abhorrent things for this show, for a good laugh, but this is an entirely new level of desperation on production’s part. Do they really think viewers will be interested in Reese jerking off in the water? We all know he’s going to get silver. Let’s cut to four years ago and be done with it.”

  “Bellini,” I hiss. “Stop, people can hear you.”

  Straightening up, she looks me in the eye. “Do you really think I care what these foreigners think? They don’t even know who I am, which is insulting in itself, nor do they understand English, which is barbaric. I want to go back home where silly pedestrians stop me on the street to ask me to have Pope Francis bless their children.”

  Thankfully, the announcer, speaking in English and then Portuguese, drowns out Bellini’s voice. The next race, according to my schedule, is Reese’s first heat. Some races have prelims, semi-finals, and then finals, but for the 400M Individual Medley, they just have a round of heats and then the finals, which take place this evening. It’s a grueling schedule for those swimming in multiple events. I can’t imagine Reese doing more than the races he already has, which is three. His other two races are later in the week.

  Cheers erupt through the stadium as some of the first swimmers from Australia and Great Britain are announced. There is something to be said about the atmosphere of the Games: the best athletes from around the world coming together to compete, you can’t help but get chills from it.

  “And in lane four, from the United States of America, Reese King.”