Fresh Meet

by Miller, Jasmin

  It’s been crazy and intense getting ready for this event, but I have a feeling that it was all worth it.

  I’ve been feeling pretty good in the water, especially since things have settled down in my life and Em moved in with Tanner and me last year. With her roommate Nicole moving out anyway, I was able to make a good argument and get her to agree.

  Coming home to my two favorite people every day is the best thing.

  And what a difference a year can make.

  I’ve never had a crazier time in my life, or a happier one.

  Things with Em’s parents haven’t changed much in the last year. Em told them straight out that if they wouldn’t start treating her—and us—with respect, she wouldn’t go see them anymore.

  My strong, beautiful ladybug.

  Of course, Em wouldn’t be Em if she wouldn’t still drop by for birthday or Christmas wishes, but that’s where it ended. Especially considering that her sister is still married to that dick of a husband. We definitely don’t need that drama in our life.

  I turn my head when her fingers brush over my cheek, gazing into her mesmerizing eyes.

  “You zoned out. Do you want to go to sleep? You know I wouldn’t mind.”

  We just put Tanner to sleep in the adjacent bedroom, so it’s still fairly early. But tomorrow is the first day of the Olympics, which means I have an extra-long and nerve-wracking day ahead of me.

  Yet, I’m ready to smash this. Ready to succeed and make this the highlight of my professional career.

  “I’m not really tired yet, but I have a few ideas of what we could do in bed instead.” I waggle my eyebrows at her and she laughs.

  A tiny flutter tingles inside my chest like it does every time she’s happy. It’s a simple thing but essentially tied to my own happiness. The bond between us goes both ways, good and bad, and I cherish every step we take together on this path.

  No matter what the goal is, no matter how hard it is, I’m certain we’ll get there. My confidence in us is strong and unwavering.

  My need for her grows when her hand travels down my torso. What a tease. I’m about to pull her on my lap when her phone vibrates on the table.

  She kisses my cheek before scooting to the edge of the couch to reach for it. She swipes the screen and slaps her hand over her mouth, but not before a loud gasp echoes through the room.

  I immediately sit up and touch her back. “Everything okay?”

  Her head bobs up and down as she keeps scrolling on her phone screen.

  When she turns her head to look at me, her eyes are filled with tears, and I’m by her side before she has a chance to blink, leaning closer, wanting to comfort her.

  “What’s going on, baby?”

  She blows out a shaky breath, and I can tell by the way her lips quiver that she’s trying to hold back her emotions. “Richard messaged.”

  Sweet relief floods me, because I know in my gut this isn’t bad news.

  Missing the audition last year turned out to be the best thing for her career. Richard has quickly become one of Em’s biggest supporters, and together they were able to find enough investors interested in her children’s music program to create a professional production.

  Not only is the program now available to purchase, but it has also found many online supporters—both young and old—around the whole world.

  I nudge her elbow. “Well . . . what does he say?”

  “He—” She chuckles and shakes her head. “He did it, babe. He secured a deal with . . . with PBS Kids.” Her voice is quaking and laced with joy as she loses the fight with her tears. “They want to turn my program into a TV show.”

  My mouth drops open as I gape at her. “No way. Holy shit.”

  She nods, laughs, and cries. All at the same time. “I know.”

  I push my hand through my hair. This is her dream, something so big she thought it would be unachievable. “This is amazing. You deserve this so much, baby. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

  “I still can’t believe it.” She blinks rapidly and just stares at me. “I’m so happy. First the engagement, then the positive test, and now this. I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m so happy for—” My smile drops as my brain catches up with her words. I tilt my head, my brows furrow. “Wait. What did you just say?”

  Her tears flow quicker down her cheeks as she chuckles and hiccups. “We’re having a baby.”

  What the . . .

  It takes me a long moment before I begin to wrap my head around this piece of news. A laugh breaks from my chest. This is fucking awesome. “Are you serious right now?”

  She presses her lips together and nods, now crying in earnest as sobs begin to shake her body. I pull her on my lap and Em throws her arms around my neck.

  “We’re going to have a baby. I can’t believe it. I love you so fucking much.”

  Taking her to the bedroom, I plan on showing her just how much.

  This is it.

  The last race of my professional swim career.

  And there’s no better way to end it than with my friends in a men’s medley relay. Hunter, Ryan, and Noah are next to me as we get ready to head to the pool.

  Ryan bumps into me. “You ready, man?”

  I nod.

  Hunter grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me in until our foreheads touch. “Let’s do this, dude. Go crush it, you hear me?”

  I nod again, my throat too tight to talk.

  We walk out in silence, and I keep my focus on the water, swimming the race in my head like I’ve done a million times before.

  And then it’s showtime.

  The crowd roars as Hunter dives back from the wall with his strong backstroke. He’s ahead of the other swimmers before he even finishes his first lap. I grin when he taps the wall after his second lap with several feet between him and his runner-up, breaking the world record like the beast he is.

  Ryan is next. His strength has always been breaststroke. Despite his age, he’s still the world record holder, and I know he has this in the bag too. His form is perfection, his head in line with his body.

  It’s my turn next with butterfly, and I give it my all, leaving my dreams and all my hard work in the water. My heart has been in this for so long, wanting to be the best, that losing isn’t an option.

  My vigorous training, my previous wins, have been preparing me for this Olympics. To being better. To being the best. I’m tired, but the hunger for success keeps me going, making me one with the water.

  Muscle memory takes over, and I glide powerfully through the water.

  My mind is almost numb, except for that voice in my head.

  I’m so proud of you, son. Look how far you’ve come. You did it. You really are the best as I always knew you were.

  My dad’s voice echoes in my head as my one hundred meters go by in the blink of an eye.

  I thought hearing my dad’s voice would leave me with a hint of sadness, but instead, pride fills my chest.

  This is for you, Dad. This is for you.

  It’s easier to focus on my racing heart and breathing rather than my emotions as I watch Noah do his magic with his unbeatable freestyle laps. His form is flawless, his strength impeccable as he pulls away from the others with every stroke.

  My chest feels tight as I watch him finish his second lap and, reaching the wall, bringing our win home.

  When everyone’s done, he lifts himself out of the pool, and the four of us form a huddle.

  We’re a team, a unit, and the momentous significance of this moment isn’t lost on any of us. We all know this will never happen again for us.

  This moment will be etched in my brain forever.

  To me, we’ll always be the kings of the water.

  When we part, they slap my shoulder before grabbing their things from the chairs. I keep my eyes downcast as I listen to the announcer reminding the crowd that this was my last race. That I’m retiring. I swallow.

  Cheers and applause erupt in the aquati
c center as I lift my head and gaze up into the stands.

  Lifting my arms, I turn around and wave, bowing my head to give thanks, even though it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. My eyes prickle as I scan the crowd for someone very specific, or rather, specific someones.

  Calmness settles over my heart when my eyes land on Em and Tanner. They are all I see, all that matters.

  My eyes flicker up to the big screen where everyone witnesses the dance these two perform in my honor—congratulatory cardboards and all.

  Em looks as stirred as I feel and doesn’t hold back from sharing her crazy with our boy. I hope this will never change. It’s exactly the kind of crazy that was missing in my strict life, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.

  I’m now the most adorned Olympic medalist in history—and officially retired—and it’s nothing compared to what life has given me this last year.

  One smart little boy who has the biggest heart I’ve ever witnessed. He makes me proud daily, and I’m looking forward to watching him grow up.

  Then there’s Em. The most beautiful woman that by some miracle loves me back and is now growing our baby.

  One amazing mom. Loyal friends. Wonderful fans.

  If that doesn’t make me the luckiest man on earth, I don’t know what does, and I’m planning on enjoying every last minute of it.

  THE END

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  Have you read my story Baking With A Rockstar yet? Hudson and Charlie’s love story is so much fun, not to mention sweet and sexy? Continue reading for the first chapter of this single parent romance or get it right here.

  Baking With A Rockstar Excerpt

  Chapter One

  The soft glow of the morning sunlight and a fresh breeze stream through the open window into the kitchen. The canyon stretches out beyond the backyard, accentuating a sky splattered with beautiful hues of pink, orange, and blue. I turn away from the window and walk over to the big island in the middle of the room, grabbing the radio remote on the way.

  Even though I enjoy the soft and comforting humming of the oven in the background, I prefer having some music on too. Almost everything is better with music, especially baking. Since there’s a nice pile of dough waiting for me, I wash my hands thoroughly then dig into the soft mass, my whole body instantly relaxing at the sensation.

  “Charlie, it smells amazing in here. What are you making?” Hannah startles me as she walks into the kitchen, stopping to casually lean against the refrigerator. Her gray hair is piled loosely on top of her head, making her look younger than she actually is. But since she was my grandmother’s best friend, I know exactly how old she is—not that she acts like she’s in her seventies. If there’s one woman who portrays the saying of “You’re only as old as you feel,” it would be her.

  “You’re as stealthy as a cat.” I shake my head and laugh, my hands automatically going to my now racing heart. Removing them from my shirt a moment later, I feel the material lift and immediately know I’ve made a mess. One look at my chest, and it’s confirmed—several pieces of dough stick to the faces of my favorite Supernatural actors. I let my head fall in shame dramatically, not the slightest bit surprised about it.

  I should have known better. Sorry, guys. Poor Dean and Sam.

  “Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I always forget how easily you scare.” She walks over and looks at the array of ingredients in front of me, especially the big jar in the middle with the hazelnut chocolate spread. “It’s that kind of day, huh?”

  We’ve only lived together for a few weeks, but she already knows me well enough to understand I crave specific kinds of food when I’m in need of some emotional comfort.

  “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and the little I got was mediocre at best. So, I thought I could use a little pick-me-up this morning and decided to make some Nutella puffs.” I smile at the silliness of it all. “You know how much I love that stuff. There’s already some cream cheese Danish bread in the oven. I know you have a weakness for that too.”

  Hannah chuckles, the laugh lines around her eyes dancing with the movement. “You know I do. I hope you’ll save some of both for me for later.”

  “Of course.” After grabbing a rolling pin to roll out the dough, I look back up at her. “Where are you off to this early anyway? I was hoping you could sample the new cupcakes I want to make later.”

  Grinning at me, she grabs a banana from the large fruit bowl on the counter. “No worries, I wouldn’t leave you alone with that task. The ladies from the quilt club talked me into joining them for their Sunday morning hike, but I won’t be gone for long. Just a quick round around the lake.”

  “Oh, that sounds like fun.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not sure I’d call it fun, but with all of the sampling you’ve put me through over the last few weeks, I have to up my workout routine if I want to continue to fit into my clothes.” She winks at me, and I give her a big smile.

  This woman has been my lifesaver, and I’m not sure what I’d do without her. I know for a fact I wouldn’t be standing in this kitchen right now, more content than I’ve been in a long time, if it wasn’t for her. Right when I hit rock bottom in my life, she swooped in and not only did she talk me into moving across the country on a whim—from New York to California—but she also provided a roof over our heads.

  She took me and my little baby in like family, no questions asked. There will never be enough words to show her how grateful I am for all of the help and support she’s given us. Life certainly wouldn’t be the same without this guardian angel.

  When I focus back on her face, I catch her staring at me.

  “Stop thinking about it. You know I can tell.” Her hands are on her hips, her lips pinched together in a tight line.

  A quiet snort escapes my mouth, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “I know, I know. I just can’t help it sometimes. But I’m trying not to fall into that trap if I can help it, I promise.”

  We share a knowing look, one we’ve shared many times over the last few weeks. This wasn’t the first time my mind slipped into the past—voluntarily or not—but we both know it won’t be the last time either. Thoughts from the past have a weird way of sneaking up on you at any time. Sometimes it’s a fleeting thought that’s gone before you can grasp it, but other times, it’s so overwhelming, you feel like it’s going to suffocate you.

  Beep. The baby monitor sitting on the far side of the kitchen bar sends a warning tone, letting me know it lost its signal.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever live in a house big enough for this thing to lose the connection.” Sighing, I quickly wash my hands to check the monitor.

  By the time I push the button to turn on the screen, the signal is already back on. Weird technology.

  “Is she all right?” Hannah’s voice is laced with a hint of concern as she tries to peek over my shoulder.

  “Yep, still sound asleep.” The screen is bright, showing the crib with my little baby girl, Mirabelle, in it. Seeing her lying on her belly with her butt high up in the air makes me smile—sometimes it still feels weird that she’s become my everything so quickly. There’s no denying we had a rocky start, one I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but we pulled through and came out stronger on the other side.

  My thoughts wander to last year, when my ex-fiancé, Sebastian, left me—left us—at the worst moment of my life. Just the thought of it makes my insides churn.

  Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t left me with a newborn, but in hindsight, I’m glad. Without a doubt, he was a complete asshole for doing it the way he did, but we’re better off without him. It took me a while to realize that, but once I did, life got a little easier. Tha
nkfully, Mirabelle has been a great baby from the beginning, almost like she wanted to help me through that rough patch in our lives.

  A hand on my arm snaps me out of my thoughts, and my eyes focus back on Hannah.

  “You okay there?” Her eyebrows draw together as she looks me over.

  I nod quickly and return my focus to the dough in front of me so she can’t study my face any further. There’s no need to indulge my brain in that part of my past any longer than I already have.

  Hannah drops her hand from my arm and walks over to the fridge. “Do you want me to bring any of the girls back with me after our hike? You know how much they love you and your baking.”

  Just thinking about those women makes me chuckle. “Not today, but thanks. I just want to make a small batch for us later today. But if we deem them good enough, I can make a big batch next week at the bakery and we can invite them over then.”

  Even though my bakery won’t be open for a while, I use every chance I can to bake big batches in my beautiful massive industrial ovens.

  “Sounds perfect. I can’t wait.” She grabs her water bottle from the fridge, waving at me as she leaves. “Now, enjoy the little break, and I’ll see you later.”

  “Have fun, and say hi to the rest of your squad for me.” I smirk at the term like I always do, but it’s just perfect. The six seniors who make up the quilt club are worse than a group of teenagers sometimes. It definitely never gets boring when they’re around.

  For the next few minutes, I’m completely focused on my baking. It’s something that centers me, no matter what mood I’m in. Once I’m happy with the dough, I cut it into equal pieces. The brown hazelnut spread is next, and I smear it on generously with a knife, because there’s no such thing as too much Nutella.