Fighting to Dream (The Elite Book 2)

by Flockton,Nicole

  “Have you talked to Drake about this?”

  Ugh, the one question she was hoping he wouldn’t ask. This subject wasn’t something she could talk to Drake about, not after the way they’d parted this morning. She wasn’t even sure he would want to talk to her again. He definitely wouldn’t want to talk to her about his dad. And she didn’t know if she wanted to talk to him either. His accusation that she was lecturing him hurt. She was a concerned trainer and lover. She thought they’d passed the stage where he took everything she said as being a lecture.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, we talked about his dad, but I didn’t talk to him about trying to get his dad here in time for his race.”

  Len sat down and placed his elbows on her desk, leaning forward to study her intently. “Why do you want to do this, Tamara? Drake and his dad have a complicated relationship.”

  “I know.”

  His eyebrow rose at her response. “What exactly do you know?”

  How much did she say? Some of the things Drake had told her were his own private thoughts, things she was sure Len had no idea had been going through his mind. She didn’t want to break his confidence, but she had to let Len know Drake had trusted her with personal information. No doubt, after she finished explaining what she knew, Len would work out that there was more to their relationship than athlete/physical trainer.

  “I know that his Dad has been a big influence on his running career and that getting to the Olympics means as much, if not more, to Drake’s dad than to Drake himself.”

  Len sat back. She relaxed, guessing that her answer had satisfied him, even though a frown appeared between his eyes. “Do you know why Drake’s father isn’t here?”

  Tamara thought back on their conversation. She couldn’t recall whether he’d told her or had glossed over it so quickly she hadn’t comprehended it. Did that mean Drake didn’t want his dad in Rio? But that made no sense when he’d uttered the words to her that he wished his dad was in the stands watching him.

  “Not entirely. And from your expression I’m guessing this could be a factor as to why he’s not here.”

  “I don’t know how much Drake told you. There are so many layers and complexities to the relationship between Drake and Simon Roberts. I think you have a fair idea of the pressure Drake is under at the moment,” he paused and Tamara nodded, understanding all that Len was not saying. “Having Simon here could be detrimental to Drake’s performance.”

  “But what if Drake wanted him here? And you really haven’t told my why he can’t be here. Is it a matter of his health? Is he sick? Is that why he can’t be here?”

  “Yes. He’s sick.” Len looked up at the ceiling, and unease built inside of her, praying that whatever was ailing Simon Roberts wasn’t life-threatening.

  “Too sick to travel?” she asked, bracing for confirmation of her thoughts.

  “No, but Drake was adamant that his father shouldn’t be in Rio due to the threat of Zika virus. Not to mention other sicknesses that can happen when traveling to foreign countries and eating local food.”

  Okay, so now Tamara was confused. What was ailing Drake’s dad? Was the illness an excuse for Drake to keep his father away?

  “While all of those are feasible reasons for his dad’s not being here, you haven’t actually told me what is wrong with him.”

  “Simon had a very serious case of pneumonia about a month before Drake flew out to Rio. Once he got the right medication, he bounced back, but he’s still a little weak and his immune system will be suppressed from the illness and the antibiotics. Drake didn’t want to risk him having a relapse.”

  Well, that put a crimp in her idea of getting Drake’s father to fly to Rio. She didn’t want to give up, though. No matter what he said, deep down she knew that a victory would be hollow to Drake if his father wasn’t in the stands cheering him on. Even if he lost, well, she hoped his dad would still be happy that he’d made the finals and not berate him for not winning. Was she willing to take that risk? Wouldn’t it hurt Drake even more if she did get his father out to the games, and, at the end of the day, he didn’t place in the final and had to face his father’s disappointment.

  Indecision pulled at her like a game of tug of war. Which way would she be pulled?

  “So I suppose you’d be against my trying to contact Simon and see if he wanted to come out?” she asked Len.

  He drummed his fingers on his leg, clearly mulling over everything in his mind as she was still doing. Whatever she did, the man she’d come to care deeply for would be hurt either way. She could get his dad here, and he’d resent her for interfering where she shouldn’t have. Or she didn’t get his father to come, and, if Drake won, he wouldn’t be able to celebrate with the one person who meant the world to him. She believed Drake and his father had a good relationship. He’d told her as much. There was more affection than pain in his voice when he spoke of his father.

  “I think,” Len said pulling her from her thoughts, “that both of them would regret not sharing the Olympic experience with one another. No matter what Drake may say or feel, I know he loves his father and wants to win just as much as his dad wants him to win. More maybe. He’s changed over the time he’s been here in Rio. I can see a fire within him that wasn’t there before.”

  “I know he wants to win, Len. After a couple of false starts, he worked with me to get his knee into better shape, enabling him to compete with the best of them. The fact that he made the final is proof of that, especially after he fell behind in the semi last night.”

  “That’s what I mean. I’ve seen him get behind and not give up exactly, but his shoulders slumped and his pace seemed to slow down. Last night he found something that I’ve always known was in him. A determination to win, and he got over the line and made the final.” Len looked at her shrewdly. “Maybe you have more to do with that than just being his trainer.”

  Tamara couldn’t fight the blush infusing her cheeks. “I don’t think I can take all the credit. As I said, Drake has worked hard to overcome his knee problem.”

  “Well, I think you have more influence than you think. And I like you, Tamara. I think you’re good for him.”

  Whoa, now this wasn’t what she expected when she asked for Len’s help. He was basically giving Drake’s and her relationship his blessing. She had no idea if what she and Drake had was a relationship in the strictest terms of what was considered a normal relationship. Not after the fight they’d had this morning. While she was angry with him and how he’d walked out on her, she also knew she cared for him. Cared enough that she wanted to do something special for him. Bring the most important person in his life to see him run the biggest race of his career. How he would react to it lurked in the back of her mind. It could either be positive or negative.

  “So you’ll help me?”

  Len stood, stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. She expected him to give her Drake’s dad’s number to call, except it looked as though he was making the call himself.

  “Simon, it’s Len, I have some—” He paused at the interruption before continuing. What had Simon said? “No, no. Drake’s fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a scare. But I’ve got someone here who wants to speak to you.” Len thrust his phone at her; she automatically took it from him.

  Shit, now what did she say.

  “Hi, Mr. Roberts. My name is Tamara York. I’m one of the trainers on the team.”

  “Len said Drake was fine.” God, father and son sounded so similar. They had the same smooth-as-velvet voice. Why hadn’t Simon Roberts found another woman to marry? Surely he could’ve with that voice.

  “Yes, there’s nothing wrong with Drake, except.…” Her voice trailed off—now came the tricky part.

  “Except what? What aren’t you and Len telling me, young lady?

  Now, there was the voice that Drake probably heard a lot of times. It was stern and forceful, and any other time
she’d tell the person she was speaking to, to change his tone or she was hanging up. But this was Drake’s dad. She could give him a little slack.

  “Drake needs you here, Mr. Roberts. Are you able to get down to Rio to see him race in the final tomorrow?”

  “Drake made the final?”

  Shocked wouldn’t be the emotion coursing through her at Simon’s revelation, more like being totally flabbergasted. “Yes, didn’t you see his semi-final?”

  “No,” he paused and cleared his throat. “I didn’t, couldn’t watch.”

  Well, shit, did that mean he wasn’t interested in seeing Drake in the final, or did it mean that watching it on television made him hurt that he couldn’t be there to see his son race in person?

  Deciding to take a chance and believe the latter of her thoughts, she plunged forward. “Mr. Roberts, I think you need to be here. Drake wants you here.”

  His scoff of disbelief echoed down the telephone line to her. “I don’t think so.”

  Oh boy, these two men really needed to work on their communication skills. “He told me he wished you were here. Please consider coming. I’ve checked online, and you can catch a flight today out of Orlando. You just need to get there.”

  Silence met her response, and she wondered if she’d pushed too hard and these two had had a massive fight before Drake had left for Rio. Maybe that was more the reason why Simon Roberts was still in Florida.

  “He really said that? He really said, I wish Dad was here. Those were his exact words?” Disbelief etched every word Simon said.

  “Yes, he did. So can you come? I’ll arrange for a pass so you can see the race.”

  “Do you think I’ll get there in time?”

  “Yes, without a doubt, yes. The race isn’t until the evening. There will be plenty of time to get you settled and to the stadium.”

  Len pushed a note across the desk to her. She glanced at it before looking up and smiling widely at him.

  “Oh and Len said you can room with him so you don’t have to worry about accommodations or anything.”

  “I um. Put Len back on, please.”

  Hope dropped like a dead balloon in her belly. He wasn’t going to come. She handed the phone back to Len.

  He took it without question and walked across the room. He’d pitched his voice low, so she only caught every second word. None of it really making sense to her.

  She’d been so sure that once Simon had heard how Drake wanted him to be in Rio, he would come down. Drake and Len had suggested that their relationship was complicated. Tamara had thought if she asked, and not Drake, that Simon would be more than happy to come and watch Drake race.

  “Great,” Len’s voice pitched louder, and she sat up straighter in her chair. “I’ll arrange everything this end. You won’t regret coming, Simon. I know it.”

  She’d done it. She’d gotten Drake’s father to come to Rio. The next question was, did she tell Drake or let it be a surprise? And, more importantly, what was Drake going to think when he saw his father in the crowd?

  17

  Drake was sure he was about to throw up again. He didn’t need to keep throwing up when the biggest race of his life was happening in about half an hour.

  A hand slapped the middle of his back, and his stomach lurched in response. “How you doing, dude?”

  Trust his best friend to sound so relaxed. Of course, he was relaxed—all his events were over and done with. Half the swim team had already gone back to the States to get on with their lives. Although from the rumors he’d heard around the athletes’ village, Brett Hunter was already causing scandals back in the USA. And why he was thinking about Brett Hunter baffled him.

  “How the hell do you do this, Mitch?”

  “Do what?”

  “Deal with being in an Olympic final? I’ve thrown up twice; I never do that. Once maybe, twice not so much.”

  Mitch laughed, and Drake wanted to slap his face. “Dude, I threw up about five times before my first final at my first Games. You get used to it.”

  “Yeah, well, this is going to be my one and only final.”

  “Never say never.”

  Yeah, no, he had no plans to train for the 2020 games. Just the thought of all the training sessions he’d have to go through, not to mention meets and then Olympic trials. Nope, he was definitely done after these games.

  “No. I’m done. Like you, this is my last Games. The difference is I’m either going to finish with a medal or none at all. Not like you with your nice haul.”

  “I won something better than Gold here.”

  Julia.

  Drake’s heart ached a little at the thought of Tamara. He hadn’t seen her since their talk in her room. He’d kept his distance, and she’d kept hers. He had spent the time apart thinking about her and about their relationship. He knew that he didn’t want it to end after the Games. The thought of not seeing her again hurt more than the possibility of his losing the final. Did that mean he loved her? Could he fall in love with someone in less than a month? Although he’d known her longer than the time they’d spent together in Rio. She’d helped him recover from his initial knee injury. And what if he’d ruined it with the way they’d left things?

  “How did you know Julia was the one?”

  Hell, could he sound more girlie if he wanted to?

  “Forget I asked,” he muttered to Mitch, as he stretched his legs. Race time was looming. His focus needed to be on clearing his mind of everything, except concentrating on his race strategy.

  “What’s going on, Drake?”

  “Nothing, as I said, forget it.”

  “Dude, you can’t say something like that and expect me to forget it.”

  “Yes, I can, especially when I’m about to run in the biggest race of my life. We’re not girls. We don’t talk about our love lives. We go get drunk.”

  Mitch laughed. “When have we ever gone and gotten drunk? We’ve always been training.”

  Drake chuckled too. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  He did a few more stretches, following Tamara’s instructions to the letter so that he didn’t overextend his knee. Last thing he needed was to aggravate his injury before his race.

  Would Tamara watch him? Would she greet him after the race? Would she be happy for him, even if he came in last? He shuddered at the thought of coming in last. There was no way he was going to be the last person crossing the finish line. He planned to be the first one across the line.

  “If Tamara is constantly on your mind, and you want to share all your good times and your bad times with her. If you ache for her when you’re not together and then when you see her, everything feels right. That’s the best way I can describe being in love.”

  Mitch paused, thrusting his hands in his pocket and gazing up at the ceiling of the warm-up room. “When I wasn’t with Julia, I can honestly say I was empty. And that changed the moment I saw her talking to you at the airport before we flew here. One look and I knew I couldn’t let her go again. I hadn’t been living without her next to me. The past didn’t matter. Seeing her again, everything seemed right. I didn’t care if I won gold or not; all I wanted was Julia. Julia means more to me than all the gold medals I’ve ever won. When being with someone is more important than the very thing you’ve trained and strived for your whole life. That’s when you know it’s true love.”

  Drake let Mitch’s words sink in. He’d known that Mitch and Julia were always meant to be together. He was truly happy for his friend, but could he say the same thing about what he was feeling for Tamara?

  She’d already seen him at his worst when he was injured and trying to hide it from everyone. Instead of ratting him out, Tamara had bugged him until he admitted he needed help. She’d seen him all sweaty after his semi-final win, and she’d been so happy for him.

  And he’d seen her in the throes of orgasm. A beautiful sight he knew he would never forget and wanted to see again and again.

  Mitch had said having Julia’s love was
more important to him than his gold medals. Something he knew his best friend had trained hard to win. Would Drake give up a gold medal if he knew he had Tamara’s unconditional love? More to the point, did he love her?

  The answer eluded him. Or he wasn’t ready to admit to himself just how he felt.

  Shit, he so didn’t need to be having such heavy thoughts before the biggest race of his career. If Dad were here, he’d be telling him to focus on the end game. Focus on the goal. Focus on the medal. But Dad wasn’t, and he didn’t want to dwell on that fact too much. How ironic that this race was the very thing Dad wanted for him, and he wasn’t here to see it for himself.

  More footsteps sounded in the room, and Drake knew soon he’d have to walk through the tunnel and out onto the track.

  He swallowed deeply against the bile threatening to erupt out of him. He didn’t need to throw up again. He really didn’t.

  “You’ve got this, dude, and sorry for getting all heavy a moment ago.”

  Drake punched Mitch lightly on the arm. “I asked, and I appreciate what you said. And I do have this.”

  Confidence replaced the sick feeling in him. He did have this, and no matter the outcome, he was going to enjoy every single second of his race, and he would win his heart’s desire.

  18

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Tamara moaned.

  A tinkle of laughter sounded beside her before a hand reached out and grabbed hers. “I always feel this way before Mitch races. And I’m pretty sure he feels this way before I dive. Welcome to the club.”

  Tamara appreciated Julia’s attempt at comfort, but it wasn’t just Drake’s race that was getting her stomach all tied up in knots. It was the fact that sitting two rows in front of her was Simon Roberts. If she wanted to know what Drake would look like in a few years, she only had to look at his father to get the answer. With his hair greying at the sides giving him a distinguished look, Simon carried himself as if he were Drake’s age and not twenty-five years older. They both shared the same brown eyes, high cheekbones and wide smile. She’d expected Simon to be gruff when he first met her. Instead, he’d given her a big hug and whispered his thanks for calling him.