by Layla Reyne
“Surprise for you,” Alex said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him forward. Bas cut a path for them, and before Jacob knew what was happening, they were at the front of Team USA and the basketball player Jacob had idolized most of his life was handing him the US flag.
Smiling wide, still half in a starstruck daze, Jacob wrapped his hands around the pole and carried the flag for the next quarter of a lap, sweat trickling down his back under the designer dress shirt and jacket. It was worth it to carry his country’s flag, to feel a part of Team USA, and to give his friends and family back home a thrill. Jacob let the happiness and wonder carry him away for a while. The music, fireworks, and spectacle—and his teammates’ excitement—were magical. He’d been training hard for weeks, years, and tonight it really hit him what it was all for. To swim for Team USA at the Olympics. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
The craziness didn’t stop after their lap around the stadium. Once they stepped off the track and back inside the building, the full-court press was on, literally. Press, agents, and sponsors shouted from all directions, and Bas had been right. There were questions for Alex and Dane, but just as many directed at him.
“What’s it feel like to be a first-time Olympian?”
“Amazing,” Jacob answered. “And a huge responsibility.”
“Is medley relay going to win gold?”
“That’s our plan,” Dane answered beside him.
“Did you know you’d get to carry the flag, Jacob?”
“No, that was a surprise.”
“Was that the best part of the night?”
“Absolutely!”
“And the worst?”
He tugged at his collar. “These outfits are freaking hot. I love the colors and the design. Very Team USA.” He swept a hand down, Vanna White-like. “But did no one tell the designer it’d be ninety degrees here?”
The reporters tittered, while Dane laughed. “Well, there goes that sponsorship.”
Jacob gulped and looked over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that?”
Dane grinned and tugged open his own collar, putting Jacob at ease. “Nah, you just said what we’re all thinking. Don’t worry about it, kid.”
Once the ceremonies and unofficial Q&A were over, they returned to Olympic Village, which was humming with first-night parties. The adrenaline should have kept Jacob going, but as soon as he stood next to his bed in the triple, his excitement waned, the second-guessing he’d pushed aside earlier rearing its head. Sharing a room with Bas would have been awkward, Jacob knew that. Still, it’d been a surprise when Kevin and Sean had given him the news. Bas had confirmed it with a nod, and Jacob had turned away quickly, hiding the fall of his face. Madly dashing to register, peeing in a cup for the drug tests, changing into their opening-ceremony attire, and getting in line for the processional had distracted him, and then the ceremony itself had buoyed him. But now, it was like this morning all over again. He’d been separated from his mentor, his closest friends on the team, and his medley relay squad.
“Pup,” Sean said, strolling out of the attached bathroom. “You look like you lost your pup.”
Jacob cleared his throat, giving as bland an answer as possible. “Sorry, just a little homesick.” He didn’t want Sean and Kevin to think he wasn’t happy to room with them. They’d been great actually, not making a big deal out of the Leah situation or the last-minute room reassignment. They were taking the switch up in stride, and Jacob was glad not to be a burden.
“Dude,” Kevin said from his corner of the room. “No time for homesickness. We gotta party. This is our last night off.”
“For you maybe,” Sean said. “Some of us have races tomorrow.” He was first up in the four-hundred-meter free.
“And heats,” Jacob added. His hundred-meter breaststroke heat was in the morning.
Kevin waved them off. “You’re both ready. Come on. I gotta scout out the condom fishbowls. Find the best.”
Sean splayed his fingers. “I spotted five in the lounge.”
“Good,” Kevin said, puffing out his chest “Because those Aussie swimmers . . .” He trailed off, whistling low. “Though I know you’ve got your eye on Natalie,” he said with a wink at Sean.
Ignoring him, Sean elbowed Jacob’s side. “See any you like, Pup?”
Yeah, the big, tall one with blond dreadlocks and tattoos who’d kissed and fucked him senseless, but that had only been for one night.
Kevin pushed Sean aside and stood directly in front of Jacob, clutching his shoulders and giving him a shake. “Okay, listen, you’re new at this. Sean and I have been here before, so rule number one, the most important rule: we will not be the mopey room. I forbid it.”
Jacob raised a brow. “You forbid it?”
“Aye, Pup,” he replied in a poor, but valiant, imitation of Jacob’s favorite accent. “That’s yes for pirate speak, right?”
Jacob couldn’t help but smile. “Aye, matey, now where’s this party you speak of?”
“There he is!” Sean cheered, as Kevin clapped his shoulders.
A half hour later, changed into jeans and a Team USA polo, Jacob headed downstairs with his roommates to the building’s lounge. He halted over the threshold, mouth agape. This was nothing like their TV marathons in Vienna or San Antonio, where the team had sprawled across couches, relaxed and comfy in wrinkled athletic wear. This was closer to a rave, or a frat party with a bunch of hot, decked-out athletes. All of the furniture had been pushed against the walls, Euro pop of some techno variety was cranked loud, and a crowd danced in the center of the large room.
“Does it stay like this the whole time?” Jacob asked.
“Pretty much,” Sean said. “Though the crowd makeup depends on the sport. This is the last night us swimmers have off. We’re competing the first week. So after tonight, we shut down and the track and basketball guys—” he pointed at the giants in the far corner, including the baller who’d handed Jacob the flag “—keep the party going until we rejoin the festivities at the end of the week. Oh, there’s Nat!”
Sean took off after Natalie, and Kevin braved the crowd, eyes locked on an attractive leggy blond. Jacob diverted to the drink table instead, grabbing a bottle of water. On the other end of the table sat one of the infamous bowls of condoms, of which he’d be needing none. His good mood darkened, then wobbled precariously close to black when Leah tapped his shoulder.
“Oh, hi,” he said cautiously.
“Can we talk for a minute?” She tilted her head toward a less crowded corner of the room, and Jacob followed. “I owe you an apology,” she said, once they were far enough removed from the others. “I’m sorry.”
Jacob was surprised; he’d expected a barrage of questions or leftover animosity, certainly not an apology.
“Hey, you didn’t know any better,” he said, waving it off, as he usually did. He didn’t want to make anyone feel awkward. It was rare enough he ever got an apology. “I’m sorry I surprised you.”
She shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t have assumed. Bas made me see that.”
“Bas?”
“He explained the bi thing to me. You’re still you, and I like you.” She stepped closer, her flirtatious smile and interested eyes revived. “I think he’s playing matchmaker.”
Jacob’s improving mood cratered. If Bas was setting him up with Leah, then any romantic shot he had with Bas was officially off the table. One night was all Bas could give; Jacob would have to accept that. But he didn’t want to throw himself into something with Leah either, not while he still had a shred of hopeless, ill-advised desire for Bas. And not while he still didn’t totally trust her. No one needed more team drama, and Jacob didn’t want to be the cause of it. “I think maybe just friends, if that’s okay with you?”
Her smile dimmed a little, but then she resurrected the bright one and looped an arm through his. “I’d like that. You’re funny and cool.”
“You know, you’re the first person who’s
ever called me cool.”
She swatted at his head, setting off a debate as to who was cooler in their dorky uncoolness. After a few minutes, Leah leaned closer. “Don’t look now, but your uncoolness has caught the eye of the hottest guy here.”
He looked up, expecting blond dreadlocks and painted skin, but Bas was nowhere to be seen. And of course Bas hadn’t been who Leah was referring to. Taken generally, most of the guys here were hot. “Now you’re playing matchmaker?”
“It’s kind of fun when I have even more people to work with.” She gestured at the crowd parting to their left. “Hottie incoming.”
She wasn’t wrong. Tall, dark, and handsome was heading straight for them, eyes on Jacob. The guy looked a few years older than him, but was otherwise the same height and build. Jacob would bet money on him being a swimmer, maybe even a breaststroker. He had green eyes flecked with gold and thick black hair, an attractive combination with his smooth olive skin and pronounced nose, making the whole package rather striking.
“I hear you’re my competition,” he greeted, hand out to Jacob. His lightly accented English was better than good, almost like he’d lived in the States for a while. “Julio Espinosa. Breaststroke, Team Spain.”
The name rang a bell, as did his appearance, from the last Olympics, but Julio couldn’t have been much older than Jacob then, and Jacob had been so focused on—
He shook his head, focusing on the handsome man in front of him. “Jacob Burrows,” he said, taking Julio’s offered hand. “But you seem to know that already. And this”—he angled toward Leah—“is Leah Franklin, our women’s breaststroke champ.” Julio and Leah shook hands, Julio giving her an admiring smile.
“Our breaststroker, Sofia, is terrified of you.” He waved at the statuesque blonde with Kevin.
“Good,” Leah said. “I’m gonna go introduce myself.” She gave Jacob a parting wink and faded into the crowd.
Julio inched closer, leaning a hip against the nearby chair. He folded his arms over his chest, muscles everywhere testing the seams of his shirt. One short sleeve rode up, a hint of ink peeking out from under its hem. “Gotta say, my competition is much more handsome in person.”
He was smooth for sure, and attractive as hell, and if Jacob wasn’t mistaken, flirting with him. Julio was putting himself out there without knowing if Jacob was gay or bi. Assertive, brave. Jacob liked that.
He didn’t want to lead Leah on, hoping to keep her as a friend after the Olympics, but a two-week fling with this handsome fellow could be just what the doctor ordered to forget a certain other. Everyone was telling him to enjoy the experience. This was part of that, wasn’t it?
Jacob smiled and leaned closer, desperately trying for cool. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect my competition to be so handsome either.”
Bas stood inside the lounge doorway, overcome with a tsunami of too old for this shit. A giant room packed full of overhyped athletes, speakers pumping out dubstep that rattled his bones, and condoms being pocketed left and right. He was generally easygoing, never taking himself too seriously, but he was here to work, to backup Alex, and to make sure they won relay gold. Not babysit a rave. After a day of travel, pageantry, and avoiding Jacob, he just wanted to crash. Close his eyes, forget the day, and rewind to the night before in his mind, the only place where he’d let those memories live. He did not want to spend his evening here, reminded instead of a prior opening night gone wrong. As it was, he’d already glared off a pair of French swimmers and an Aussie pole vaulter he’d slept with four years ago.
“Ah, the hormones,” Alex said, sidling up beside him.
On Alex’s other side, Dane wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. “I can talk to you about hormones,” he teased.
“Nope, we’re the adults here,” Bas said.
Dane stuck out his bottom lip. “Well, that sucks. It’s my first Olympics too. I don’t get to have fun?” Big Red could act, Bas would give him that.
“Stop pouting,” Alex said, failing miserably to sound stern. “Your boyfriend is captain. You signed on for this.” Laughter bubbled beneath the surface of his words, belying the scolding.
Grinning, Dane leaned in and stole a kiss. “Okay, boyfriend.”
Yeah, they liked that word, and Bas liked it for them, chuckling as he scanned the crowd for their teammates. No one in particular, he told himself, while searching for a shaved blond head. He spotted Kevin’s glossy black pompadour first, standing in a circle chatting with Sean, Natalie, Leah, and a blonde he also vaguely remembered. Jacob, however, wasn’t with them. Had they left him in the room? He’d thought he’d made it clear that he wanted Kevin and Sean to include Jacob. Had they offered, and Jacob declined, opting out of the opening-night party? Bas didn’t want that either. As much as this scene rankled him, Jacob should still get the full experience.
Or maybe . . . Bas checked his watch. It was past the time for Jacob’s nightly call with Davis. Was his dad all right? Had he had another flashback? By putting Jacob in a room with Sean and Kevin, Bas wouldn’t know, wouldn’t be there to help, if Jacob had another panic attack about his dad. Fuck, he needed to find out what was going on.
He turned to go, then froze as a familiar laugh pinged his ears, and on its heels, the owner of that same laugh, in a flirtatious tone Bas knew all too well, teasing, “I thought everything was bigger in Texas?”
Oh. Fuck. No.
Bas came unstuck, real fast. Like almost-took-down-Alex-and-Dane fast as he reversed course and plowed into the crowd.
“Bas!” Alex shouted over Dane’s confused, “What the heck?”
Background noise, all of it. Pushing through the melee, Bas was locked on the two voices belonging to the last two people he’d ever wanted to meet each other. The sea of bodies parted.
Too late.
Julio was perched on the arm of Jacob’s lounge chair, leaning in, hand braced on the seat back behind Jacob’s head.
Spanish flirt turned way the fuck up.
And Jacob was falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. Who wouldn’t when Julio’s charm was directed at you full blast? Cheeks pink, legs crossed toward the handsome Spaniard, Jacob’s green eyes were bright and the big smile Bas had stolen was back where it belonged, stretching across his face.
“¡Mierda!” Alex cursed behind him.
Loud enough to register with Julio, who paused his seduction to glance up. He didn’t lean back, though, just angled his face away from Jacob, gaze snagging on Alex, then Bas. Heated green-gold eyes clashed with his, too knowing for Bas’s liking. Not how Bas wanted to first run into Julio again, angry when he had no right to be. But he was clearly hitting on Jacob, Bas’s—
What? His what?
Teammate, mentee, and friend was the most he could say. The most he’d allowed. And Bas wasn’t sure he’d even been a good any of those.
“Sebastian,” Julio said, his accent drawing the name out to four syllables. Bas had loved that, until it had become his conscience’s twenty-four-seven haunting.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Bas!” Jacob exclaimed, eyes bulging out of his head.
Undeterred, Julio slid his arm farther behind Jacob, bringing them closer. “Just getting to know my competition better.”
Bas wanted to shove him off the damn chair. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
Entering the fray, Alex blocked Bas’s step forward and extended a hand to Julio. “Espo, good to see you.”
“Cantu, it’s been too long.”
Hand in his, Alex smoothly pulled Julio off the chair and into a bro hug. Bas’s anger ratcheted down a gear.
“Thanks for accepting the friend request,” Julio said, eyes cutting to Bas. He’d sent Bas one too, and also a direct message, both of which Bas had left ignored in his notifications.
Jacob stood, moving closer to Bas, and Bas’s anger downshifted again, the tightness in his chest easing. “You all know each other?” Jacob asked.
Alex push
ed Dane forward. “Julio, this my boyfriend, Dane Ellis.”
“You two caused quite the stir,” Julio said, shaking Dane’s hand. “Glad not to be the center of attention this time. Between you two and the handsome rook here . . .” He leered again at Jacob.
Bas bit back a growl. “That’s enough, J.”
Julio smiled, not the least bit miffed. “Fine, then, go away,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll get back to acquainting myself with Jacob.”
Bas’s growl escaped, rumbling into the tension-thick air between them. “No, you won’t.”
Julio’s dark brows raced north and his smirk deepened. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
Bas had shown his hand, exposing to the last person he should what Jacob might mean to him, whether Bas wanted that to be the case or not.
“You know Bas and Alex?” Jacob rephrased his earlier question. He motioned between them, his short sleeve creeping up, ink peeking out.
Julio’s glowing eyes widened, no doubt putting puzzle pieces together. “We used to swim together at USC,” he answered Jacob. “We were together at the last Olympics, until Bas—”
“Enough,” Bas snapped. Fuck, he needed to get this situation under control before it spiraled into another incident like the one four years ago. “We’re leaving,” he said to Jacob, grabbing him by the upper arm.
Jacob wrenched free, expertly slipping his hold. “You leave. I’m staying.” His emphasis on the last word landed like a punch to Bas’s gut.
“Espo,” Alex said. “How about we introduce you to some of the other new team members?” Another smooth move. At least someone still had their head about them, because Bas’s was about to fucking explode.
Julio must have decided to save his own. “I’d like that,” he conceded, but then inched his neck out again, tempting danger by asking Jacob, “You got my number?”