Tamara sat back in her chair. It didn’t matter if she asked him in the hopes of helping him. The question would be, if she asked, would Drake tell her?
13
Drake’s chest heaved up and down as he caught his breath. The semis were over, and he’d scraped into the final by the skin of his teeth. It hadn’t been a great race, but he’d done enough. In the last 200m, he didn’t think he was going to make it. His legs screamed with tiredness, his muscles beginning to seize up with every step he took.
But just as he thought he’d reached the end of his reserve, he’d found something deeper inside of him urging him to push himself. He’d ignored his body’s pain and pushed forward until he crossed the line in a qualifying position.
In a daze he made his way toward the exit tunnel before he did something completely ridiculous like collapse in the middle of the track. He wouldn’t be the first athlete to do that after a heat.
A pair of arms wrapped around him. “You did it, Drake. You made the Olympic final.”
Automatically, he closed his own arms around Tamara, not registering that she’d openly hugged him in front of everyone.
Her words hit him. He’d done it. He’d done better than he had in London. He’d made the final.
He pulled back from her. While he enjoyed holding her, something he hadn’t done since the night they spent together, he was hot and sweaty and having Tamara close was heating other parts of his body that his tight Lycra running suit wouldn’t be able to hide.
“I did, didn’t I?”
Tamara laughed. “Yep, you sure did.”
He should be happy. He really should, but something stopped him from fully embracing the enormity of his achievement. He gazed around the stadium, searching for the one person he knew wouldn’t be there.
Dad.
“I wish Dad was here,” he murmured the words. He thought it wouldn’t be an issue, not having Dad here in Rio. In fact, he thought it would help him because the pressure to succeed would be off him. If he hadn’t made the final, he wouldn’t have had to see his father’s disappointment. Now that he’d made the final, he wanted to share the moment with the one person who had pushed him, no matter how much he hadn’t wanted to be pushed.
He could deny it all he wanted, but the main reason he was standing here right this minute was all due to Dad. Dad’s determination for him to be successful in his running. Dad, being his first coach and helping him in his early days of training. And then when he knew he couldn’t do any more for Drake, finding the right coach that would elevate him to the next level.
“What did you say?” asked Tamara bringing him back to the present.
“I said I wish my Dad was here to see this.”
Before he could say more, he found himself engulfed in another hug, this time from his best friend, Mitch.
“Dude, I thought you were out of it, but then you hustled your way through and made it.”
“Congratulations, Drake, that was a great run.”
Another voice entered the fray, and it took a few seconds for it to sink in who was speaking to him.
Julia.
Mitch’s former girlfriend—or maybe not former girlfriend by the way they were standing close to each other.
He then remembered that Julia had competed in the diving finals earlier in the evening. He hadn’t been able to see her final round.
“What happened? Did you win?”
The smile that broke out over her face and the way Mitch’s arms wrapped around her shoulders told him everything he needed to know. “Looks to me like you won more than gold. Am I right?”
Mitch punched his arm. “Dude, you have no idea. And I’ll be needing a best man sometime soon.”
“What?” Drake wasn’t sure he’d heard Mitch correctly.
“I think that means they’re engaged.” Tamara’s soft voice spoke in his ear. She turned to his friends. “Congratulations. And I’m Tamara, one of the athletic team’s physical trainers.”
Drake felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. He’d completely forgotten to introduce Tamara. Then, again, he still wasn’t thinking straight after his race. And with the bombshell that Mitch had just dropped on him, his mind was running a few minutes behind everyone.
Fortunately, Mitch saved him, as if he realized just what was happening with Drake. And maybe he did, considering Mitch had won five medals at the Rio Games.
“Hi Tamara, I’m Mitch Osborn, and this is my fiancée and gold medal winner of the 10m platform in diving, Julia Ashland.”
Drake was jostled by more people coming into the tunnel. This really wasn’t the place to have any type of conversation, plus his muscles were seizing up. He really needed to cool down, even though he wanted to celebrate with his friends.
“As much as I want to continue this little party, my body is saying otherwise. Let’s meet up in, say, an hour?”
Mitch nodded. “Yep, that works for us. Any ideas where you want to meet?”
“How about we meet in the lobby of the building we’re staying in, and we can decide from there where we want to go.”
“Great, see you then.” Mitch wrapped an arm around Julia, tugging her tightly against his side, a wide grin crossing his face. His friend looked happier than Drake had ever seen him. “It was nice to finally meet you, Tamara.”
“Likewise.”
As Mitch and Julia walked way, Drake couldn’t stop the smile stretching across his mouth. “It’s about damn time.”
“They do look happy.”
“Yep,” Drake grimaced as his calf cramped. “Shit, that hurt.”
“We need to get you to the treatment room.”
“How can I say no to an invitation like that?” he winked.
Tamara shook her head at his antics. Her lips quirked, and he knew she was trying not to laugh at him. “Come on, let’s go, and then you can make your meeting with Mitch and Julia.”
She walked off and he followed slowly, his muscles protesting loudly at having to move again. They made it to the treatment room, and he headed toward the massage room, the desire to collapse on to the massage table strong.
“No you don’t, you need to warm down. I want you to do a steady walk for ten minutes on the treadmill.”
“You’re a sadist,” he groaned and walked back toward the treadmills.
“No, I’m not. Plus, you know the routine.” She gave his arm a light punch as he walked past her. He was tempted to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate his doing that.
Sadly, he did know the routine and knew it was what kept him in peak condition. All he wanted to do was bypass the treadmill and get to the massage table so he could have Tamara’s hands on his body again. She’d been busy the last couple of times he’d come in after his light workout, and he’d had to have one of the other guys work on him.
Initially, he’d wondered if TJ had made sure Tamara was too busy to deal with him. After all, it had been drummed into the whole team that Tamara was not to be messed with. Not that he would ever tell anyone what was going on between Tamara and him. Once the Games were over, it wouldn’t matter if they were involved. He’d be retiring and, well, Tamara, he assumed, would continue with her position on the team or she’d find a new job.
He started the treadmill and began a slow walk. What would happen to Tamara and her job after the Games? He had no idea if she was on a contract or she had a permanent position to continue with the team. Just because the Games were over didn’t necessarily mean her job ended. There were world championships to work toward. Things athletes needed to work on and improve. Injuries happened, and they needed to be treated.
What about him? What was he going to do now he knew for sure these games were going to be his last? It was a sobering thought. He’d gotten a college degree in sports management, but since he’d graduated, he’d been going from meet to meet. After the London Games, his father had encouraged—pushed really—him to compete in Rio, and so that had been
his focus. Now he was twenty-six with no career path. He’d be starting all over again. He had no experience to speak of, apart from dealing with the stress of living up to a father’s dream and wondering if he were going to make the team or not.
“Okay, time’s up. I’ll meet you in the massage room in five.”
Tamara’s voice was a welcome respite from his internal monologue. It was too depressing to think about life after the Games. Now, if Tamara was part of life after the Games, then it had a certain appeal.
Drake switched off the machine. He went to the locker room and changed out of his sweaty suit, wiping down his body so it wasn’t covered in sweat. With a towel wrapped around his hips, he made his way to the massage table. Now he got to have Tamara’s hands on him.
“You seemed deep in thought on the treadmill. Were you thinking about your dad?” Tamara asked as she ran her oil-filled hands down his legs.
He bit back a groan as her hands massaged the tops of his thighs. His other brain was thinking about getting those hands on him, stroking him until…he took a second to work through his sluggish mind and remember what Tamara had asked him.
Dad. That’s right.
“My Dad? Why would you ask about him?”
“You mentioned after your race you wished your dad was here. Why isn’t he?”
He vaguely recalled saying something at the track, only he hadn’t realized he’d expressed his thoughts out loud. “He’s been sick so he didn’t want to fly, and with the Zika virus risk, it made sense for him to stay at home.”
At the time Drake had been relieved, knowing Dad was going to be thousands of miles away from him. Now, with the final two days away, he would give anything to have Dad in the stands supporting him and cheering him on. Would Dad send another email saying his time wasn’t good enough and to work harder as he had after his heat? Did it matter if he did? The more the thought festered in his mind, the more he wished Dad was here in person to tell him how shit his time was.
He missed him.
Drake could admit that to himself. He missed Dad.
“I’m sure he would like to be here too. I imagine he was anxious when he watched your semi.”
He snorted out loud. He couldn’t help it. “Oh, anxious wouldn’t be what I’d say he’d have been feeling. He’d have been yelling at the TV for me to get my ass moving. He hadn’t spent all his time and money sending me to meets around the world for me to fail at the Olympics.”
He heard the annoyance in his voice. How easy had it been to go from wishing his father was there to remembering why he’d been glad he wasn’t in the first place. His emotions were all over the show. Something he wasn’t used to. Maybe he was still screwed up from post-race high and didn’t know what he was feeling.
“That’s a bit tough, don’t you think?”
With Tamara rubbing her hands all over his legs, loosening his tight muscles, talking about his father was the last thing he wanted to do.
“How much longer?”
Her swift intake of breath and the faltering of her fingers were the only indication his abrupt change of subject had surprised her. “We’re almost done.”
Her motion lost its smooth action, and he winced a couple of times as she dug her thumbs into his tired muscles.
“There, you’re all done now. You should have time to shower and change to meet Mitch and Julia.”
Drake got up from the table and adjusted the towel so his arousal wasn’t so obvious to Tamara. Not that she’d have a problem with it, he was sure, especially after the night they’d spent together. A night he hoped to repeat soon. Maybe he could persuade her into letting him spend the night in her room so Mitch and Julia could celebrate their engagement in the room he shared with Mitch.
Yes, that was a brilliant idea.
He gave his legs a shake. They felt better and he knew walking wouldn’t cause him pain now. “You are a miracle worker, Tam. I love your hands.”
“I bet you say that to Evan too,” she muttered.
There was still a bite to her words. It might prove to be more difficult to get an invitation to her room after all. Maybe he could work on her when they met up with Mitch and Julia.
“Nope, trust me when I say your hands are the only ones I enjoy working on my legs. Not to mention other parts of my body.” He finished with a wink. “Do you want to change before we meet Mitch and Julia? Not that there’s anything wrong with what you’re wearing. I just…” he trailed off, knowing that if he said anything further, he’d more than likely dig himself deeper into a ditch.
“Well, seeing as I’m not going with you, I don’t see the need to change.”
Drake grabbed the towel when it threatened to slip, as he moved quickly to where Tamara stood. He laid his hands on her shoulders—if the fabric fell, so be it. “Why aren’t you joining us?”
“This is a celebration between you and your friends. Why would you think I’d be going along?”
“I want you with me.”
“Why?”
Man, why was she being so stubborn? She was standing next to him when they’d made the arrangements. Why wouldn’t she think she’d be part of the celebration? Not that it was going to be a wild party or anything. Julia and Mitch might be finished with competitions, but he still had one more race to run.
“Because I do.” He bridged the distance between them and rubbed a hand over her head. “I want to spend time with you.”
They were the only two people in the room. He didn’t care if anyone saw them together. Drake lowered his head, stopping mere millimeters from her lips. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.”
He closed the gap and pressed his lips softly against hers. He wanted to convey to her that she was special to him. That she’d made his time at the Olympics better than he’d thought it would be, regardless of the fact that the main reason they’d spent time together was because of his injury. Her arms closed around his neck, and he widened his stance so she fit in the cradle of his hips.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, sipping at each other’s lips. This kiss wasn’t a prelude to a hot and heavy bed session. This was a make out kiss when everything was new between a couple. Where they were testing the waters to see how far they could go. They may have already slept together, but this was a sweet kiss, one he wouldn’t easily forget.
Reluctantly, he broke the connection and rested his chin atop her head. “Is that a good enough reason for my wanting you to come with us?”
His head moved in unison with hers as she nodded her agreement. “Yes.”
The word floated up to him and he smiled.
Life was feeling pretty damn good right about now.
14
It was probably the worst idea she had, but Tamara found herself walking hand in hand with Drake back to the building he was staying in to meet Mitch and Julia. Nerves floated around her belly like fireflies dancing on a summer’s night.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked for the third time since they’d left the athletic facility.
“Yes, and if you ask again, I’m going make you regret it.”
“Is that so? How?” she dared him.
He laughed and leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Ask me back to your room after and find out.”
She should’ve known better than to dare Drake. He always brought out Drake the Flirt and ran with any suggestion. The problem was Drake the Flirt was irresistible, and the thought of spending the night with him again had her nipples peaking against her bra and warmth pooling between her thighs.
“Don’t you have a curfew?” She grasped at the thought and hoped like hell it would take root.
“Sure, I have to be in bed by midnight. It just doesn’t say which bed I have to be in.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sure your bed is probably the one they’re talking about when they made that rule.”
Drake shrugged as he opened the door to the building, allowing her to enter before him. “How muc
h sleep do you think I’m going to get tonight?”
He pointed in the direction of the seating area. She spied Mitch and Julia kissing on the couch, arms wrapped around each other, oblivious to their surroundings. Okay, so maybe he did have a point, but that didn’t mean her room would be the best one for him to sleep in. No matter how tempting the idea, she had to try and keep things from getting more serious between them.
“Well, I see that it could be a problem, but surely with Mitch being the top competitor he is, he will realize that you need the room more than he does. Maybe he and Julia will end up in her room?”
“What about her roommate?” Drake countered.
“Maybe she’s spending time with someone else.” Tamara was grasping at straws, and she knew it. She didn’t want to admit to herself how much the idea of spending the night with Drake appealed. She had to remember he had an Olympic final. He didn’t need to exert any more energy than he should. She’d seen his semi. He’d almost not made it.
“Well, I had heard Brooke may have hooked up with an Australian swimmer, but who knows if that is still happening or not.”
“What are you two discussing so seriously here?” Mitch interrupted their conversation.
“Well,” Drake started.
Oh no, please, he’s not going to say what we were really discussing, is he?
“Tamara and I were just wondering if you two wanted to have our room to yourselves tonight. You know, being newly engaged and all.”
Earth swallow me now. He went there. Of course, he did. Drake and Mitch had been friends for years. There were probably no secrets between them. God, did that mean Mitch knew about Drake and her?
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Mitch said. “But now that you’ve mentioned it. Ow, what was that for?”
Tamara bit back a laugh when Julia slapped Mitch across the arm. “Don’t mind these two, Tamara. Sometimes they revert back to their juvenile selves. Now, if you two have stopped embarrassing us, we can go and celebrate before we all turn into pumpkins and miss curfew.”
“This is why I’m marrying you.” Mitch swept Julia up in a kiss, and Tamara looked away. She could almost touch the love between the two of them. It was tangible, and she wanted the same thing. It wasn’t something to which she had given a lot of thought. Now, witnessing it flow between Mitch and Julia, how could anybody not want what they shared?
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