“I try not to dwell,” Tim said, tracing patterns along Isaac’s skin with his fingers. “Pat was bad for me. Our relationship went sour before I ended it. I see clearly now what kind of man he is. I don’t miss him, and I don’t regret telling him to go home.”
“That’s good,” said Isaac.
“I never want that particular media spotlight on me again. If I get press coverage, I want it to be for diving, not for who I date.”
Isaac was silent for a long moment. He exhaled loudly, shifted his weight a little on the bed. “You do realize that if we go public with our relationship, we’re in for some of that, right? I just did that big interview with Marcus Holt. They edited out some of what I said, but the bottom line is that half the world knows about my alcoholism right now. I did lose a couple of sponsorships over it, but not as many as I expected, probably because of my medals. And because of those, I’m in the spotlight. You know, one of those emails I just checked? It was Sports Illustrated trying to get in touch with my new agent because they want me to do a photo spread or maybe even a cover.”
And Tim did know that, at least in the back of his mind. He didn’t love the idea of his sex life being so public, but it would be, with someone like Isaac.
But Isaac would never show up at one of Tim’s meets with a camera crew. He’d never call a photographer he knew to tip them off that he and Tim would be in a certain place that day. And he would never use Tim, not the way Pat had.
“I’ll be honest,” Tim said. “I’m not looking forward to that. I don’t want to hide, but I don’t want to talk to reporters about us either. I want what we have to be between us. Which I guess is not possible.”
“Fuck ’em,” said Isaac. “We can say as much or as little as we want. You don’t want to talk about our relationship with the press? I don’t either. But maybe I want to, I don’t know, hold your hand sometimes.”
Warmth spread through Tim’s chest. He laid his head on Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac could be so heartbreakingly sweet sometimes. “There are some important differences between you and Pat. First, if we go public, it will be on our terms. It will be on my terms. You and I will decide what’s right or wrong for us to say.”
“That’s true.”
“Second, I know you’re not using me for your own gain. We’re just… together.”
“I am really gonna kill that guy.”
Tim sighed, happiness bubbling up through him. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Isaac. He wanted to see Isaac’s eyes when he said this last thing. “Here’s the most important thing, though. After Pat and I had been together for a while, my gut started telling me something wasn’t right. Those feelings all turned out to be correct. When I broke up with Pat, I promised myself I would trust my instincts from then on.”
Isaac bit his lip. “I see where you’re going with this, but are you sure? Because if I ever fall of the wagon….”
“I’ll help you get back on. Because my gut tells me that you are a good man, Isaac, one with some flaws and some demons, but a good man in your heart.” Tim placed a hand on Isaac’s chest. “And you care about me genuinely, just as I care about you. Somehow I just know that. Probably we weren’t destined to be together or anything like that, and I’m sure once the bubble of the Olympics pops, we’ll have problems and arguments and, I don’t know, couple stuff. But I also think we’ll have something really great together.”
Isaac closed his eyes and tilted his head away. He brought a hand up to his mouth. He looked back at Tim and said, “You’ll help me.”
“And not because you depend on me, but because I want to, because I care about you, and because I know that even if you are an alcoholic, and even though I know vodka and beer call to you, I also know that you want so much more from life than that. You didn’t even sip that beer. I know you want to be sober, to live your life the way you swim. Right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s true.” Isaac swallowed. “God, how you get me. You see right through me.”
Tim was on a roll now, convinced more than anything that this was right, that this would be good. He knew they’d struggle. He knew putting up with post-Olympics media attention would be the worst. But he also knew that he and Isaac could weather the storm. His gut told him that it would be worth it in the long run. “You’ve said a dozen times since I’ve met you that the key to being an elite athlete is pushing your body to its limit, and I think that’s how you approach life. You partied like there was no tomorrow, then you drank like it, and now you live like it. You pushed yourself to do the impossible last week, and you did it, you pulled it off. That’s how I know we’ll be okay, even if you’re an alcoholic. Because you, Isaac, can do anything.”
Isaac nodded slowly. “That’s not true, but I’ll go along with it. You’re pretty fucking amazing too, by the way.”
“Well.”
Isaac lifted his hand and smoothed the fringe of Tim’s short hair away from his forehead. “I know that I’m a better man than your ex, for the record, but I’m glad you can see that too. And I’m glad that today, you have no regrets, that you got up on that ridiculously tall platform and made your body do things no human body should do, and that you were rewarded for it. I don’t have the words to express how great you are. How sweet and smart and talented.”
Tim flushed and ducked his head, feeling suddenly bashful in the face of all this praise.
But Isaac put his hand on the side of Tim’s face and moved him until Tim was looking right at Isaac’s eyes again.
“I don’t believe in destiny,” Isaac said. “I think you make your own way in the world. I don’t really understand all the science behind alcoholism, but part of it is probably genetic, and I suppose you could argue I was destined to have a problem with booze. But I can choose being sober over being drunk now. And I am so glad I did, because it meant that I met you.”
Tears stung Tim’s eyes. He leaned down and kissed Isaac.
This man.
If Tim had been given free rein to choose his mate, he wasn’t sure Isaac would have been the man he’d pick, but now that he’d gotten to know Isaac, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.
“The media attention is going to suck,” Tim said.
“Fuck ’em.”
“Eh. It’ll be worth it.”
Chapter 26
Day 16
THE USOC had furnished everyone with official Closing Ceremony outfits. Isaac’s Opening Ceremony uniform still hung in the plastic he’d received it in, but he looked at the Closing Ceremony uniform—a crisp navy blue collared shirt to be worn over a red-and-white-striped T-shirt and tucked into white shorts—and shrugged, figuring it could be worse.
As he slid the official belt through its loops on the shorts, there was a knock at the door, so he hollered for the knocker to come in.
It was Tim. He wore the same outfit, except his shirt was red and his undershirt had blue-and-white stripes.
As they walked down the hall together, Isaac said, “Not for nothing, but I feel like we’re one of those tourist couples who wear matching outfits.”
“Well, it’s you, me, and several hundred other American athletes stuck in this getup.”
Indeed, as they reached the lobby, they got pulled into a mob of other athletes looking to board the buses to the Olympic Stadium. Luke and Katie were there holding hands, as were Jason and Ginny—not holding hands—so they all formed their own sub-mob and managed to get seats together on one of the buses.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” said Luke.
“Do you think they’ll let us mingle?” asked Jason. “With the other countries, I mean. I want to try to catch my new friend April before she flies out in the morning.”
“Your new lady friend?” asked Ginny.
“Yes, if you must know. She’s a rhythmic gymnast from the UK.”
“Did you do any rhythmic gymnastics with her?” Luke asked.
Jason ducked his head in response.
The USOC
had asked Isaac to be the Closing Ceremony flag bearer, but Isaac had passed because he wanted to maximize the amount of time he could spend with his friends—especially Tim—before he had to fly home. He’d heard one of the gymnasts had gotten the honor instead. Tim hadn’t heard if his replacement was a male or female gymnast—he spared a thought for Jake Mirakovitch, although his sister had apparently cleaned up the women’s gymnastics medals, so it might have been her—but he supposed it didn’t matter much. He just wanted to hang out with these people and find a way to say goodbye to an incredible Olympic Games.
When they got to the stadium, they were led underground, and the athletes were all corralled onto the practice track. Flag bearers would go into the stadium first and then the athletes would follow. There was some pomp and circumstance that had to happen before that, but once the athletes got into their designated part of the stadium, a bunch of Spanish pop stars started putting on a concert. So that had some potential to be fun.
They didn’t enter the stadium until almost an hour later, at which point they were kind of herded into a pen where, yes, the athletes were given space to mingle with their former opponents from other countries. Jason took off to find his rhythmic gymnast, and Ginny got pulled into a conversation with a Mexican diver. Luke and Katie made eyes at each other, which effectively left Isaac and Tim alone together in this big mob of people.
Fireworks exploded overhead.
And then, improbably, it started to rain. It had been sunny and gorgeous for sixteen straight days, but now at the end of the Olympics, big fat raindrops fell into the stadium. Isaac didn’t even care. He and Tim stood in a mélange of athletes, the countries all mixed together, and they held hands as the Madrid Olympics came to a close.
“I can’t believe it’s ending,” Tim said.
“It’s not ending. This is just the beginning.”
Tim turned to face Isaac. “What are you saying?”
Suddenly the heavens opened and it started to pour. Some of the athletes seemed to embrace it, squealing with joy as it poured, though a lot of people ran for the cover of the inner corridors of the stadium. Isaac didn’t move, because he had to say this.
“Tim, I love you. I know it’s only been, like, two and a half weeks, but I do. I love you. You’re the one for me. So I can’t let this end. I won’t. I’ve turned my life around, and I want to be a good man. I think, with you at my side, I can do fucking anything.”
Tim met his gaze. He looked like he might be crying, but it was hard to tell in the rain. His hair was matted to his head and his clothes were starting to cling to his body. But he said, “I love you too. Oh my God, I love you too. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it’s true.”
Isaac grinned. “You and I can do anything!” he shouted because the rain was hammering against the track.
Tim nodded. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out.”
Isaac lunged forward and kissed Tim, sealing the promise. Because they would figure this out.
And so they stood there kissing in the rain, and probably the press caught them and would have things to say about it the next day, but Isaac did not fucking care, because he loved Tim and they were both Olympic champions and he wanted this moment to go on forever.
Epilogue
Four Years Later
TIM STOOD at the base of the dive tower, waiting for the signal to climb it for his first dive of these Olympics. There was some kind of delay—one of the judges seemed to be having technical difficulties—which gave Tim enough time to imagine what the commentators were probably saying about all this.
Jason had returned as his synchro partner once again. His diving had improved immensely in the past four years, and now he was a seasoned pro instead of a wide-eyed newbie, which was probably why he did not look amused by the delay.
“It will be a few more minutes,” said an official in a clipped, accented English. “If you need to go back to warm up, please do.”
Tim sighed and walked back to the showers, signaling for Jason to do the same. As he dipped under the spray, he thought about the network filling the time. Probably with clips from Tim’s victory in Madrid. Tim was a long shot for the platform medals this time around—the competition was too intense, his diving hadn’t been as strong the past couple of seasons, and some of these divers were doing dives Tim couldn’t even conceive of making his body perform. But he still had a shot if he dived cleanly and consistently, and he intended to take it.
The network cameras would also probably pan over the stands. They’d find Jason’s family, and Tim’s. They’d zoom in on Tim’s parents first, and then they’d pan to Tim’s husband, Isaac, and remember how Isaac won all those swimming medals at the last Olympics and how shocked, shocked they all were when it turned out he was dating Tim Swan. And now they were married.
Old news, Tim wanted to tell them. Tim’s wedding ring was tucked into a protective pocket of his gym bag because he was paranoid about losing it in the pool when he dove, but that ring was two years old. Tim and Isaac had sat through a half-dozen interviews in the weeks leading up to this Olympics. Tim had just wanted to talk about diving, and Isaac had opinions about the prospects of USA Swimming—one of the girls he coached at Colorado had turned out to be something of a swimming phenom and was a favorite to dominate the middle-distance races—but all anyone wanted to ask them about was their relationship.
Yes, Tim would say, they met at the last Olympics. They fell in love there. The press photos of them kissing in the rain during the Closing Ceremony weren’t staged; the act had been spontaneous. And yes, now they were married. It was all so very cute and wholesome.
Isaac had stuck it out through one more year of competition, mostly to put some money from his sponsorship and endorsement deals in the bank. He’d gotten another Wheaties box and a pretty lucrative deal with Speedo that could have paid for him to live a comfortable life for many years to come. But Isaac didn’t like idle time, so after he’d retired and moved into Tim’s house for good, he’d taken that coaching job at Colorado and seemed to genuinely love it. He still flew back to Raleigh every few months to see his family, but he seemed happy up in the mountains. He said the setting suited him better.
Isaac wasn’t on the official Team USA coaching staff, but as the coach of one of its stars, he had some privileges and had been spending a lot of time by the pool. Still, Isaac kept swearing to Tim that he was really here to support him more than anything else. He wasn’t allowed in the athletes’ dorms, though, so Tim had to settle for nightly phone calls, something that annoyed his roommate, Jason.
Well, whatever. Tim would cope. He could limit his spousal visits to dinners at the America House like everybody else. How was that for equality?
“Okay, we’re ready,” the official said.
Jason and Tim toweled off again and got ready to climb the dive tower. “You ready?” Tim asked.
“Are you?”
Tim rolled his eyes. He gave Jason a fist bump; then they climbed the tower. When they got to the top, Tim sought out his family. They were all sitting in the second row wearing matching Team Swan T-shirts, which Isaac hated but gamely went along with. They were bright yellow at Tim’s mother’s insistence, which made them all easy to find.
Tim reflected that it didn’t matter if he did well today. He planned to retire after this Olympics and had a job waiting for him at the newly opened USOC Aquatics Training Center in Boulder. He and Isaac had been talking about adopting a baby in the near future, something Tim was ready for now that his diving career was waning. He liked the idea of Isaac as a father immensely and knew Isaac would excel at it, even if Isaac himself had doubts. They had their house and their life together in the mountains outside of Boulder and Tim had never been happier, so what happened here was immaterial. If he won, great, but if he didn’t, that was okay too. He’d put his all into this, although age and a back injury the previous season meant he didn’t dive as well as he once did. He and Isaac joked about Tim needing to w
in a medal in order to have spousal privileges with Isaac, but Tim knew it didn’t really matter to Isaac as long as Tim went out there and put everything he had on the platform.
Tim glanced at Jason. They walked to the edge of the platform. Their first dive was the lowest in difficulty, a way to ease into competition. Tim took a moment to push his thoughts aside in favor of mentally picturing the dive and how it needed to go. He got into position and, as agreed, would count the lead-up to the dive.
Jason nodded, so Tim counted.
“One, two, three, go!”
Don’t miss the rest of the series!
Stick the Landing
An Elite Athletes Novel
Jake Mirakovitch might be the best gymnast in the world, but there’s one big problem: he chokes in international competition. The least successful of a family of world-class gymnasts, he has struggled to shake off nerves in the past. This time he’s determined to bring home the gold no matter what.
Retired figure skater Topher Caldwell wants a job as a commentator for the American network that covers the Olympics, and at the Summer Olympics in Madrid, he has a chance to prove himself with a few live features. He can’t afford to stumble.
Olympic victories eluded Topher, so he knows about tripping when it really counts. When he interviews Jake, the two bond over the weight of all that pressure. The flamboyant reporter attracts the kind of attention Jake—stuck in a glass closet—doesn’t want, but Jake can’t stay away. Topher doesn’t want to jeopardize his potential new job, and fooling around with a high-profile athlete seems like a surefire way to do just that. Yet Topher can’t stay away either….
Coming in Summer 2020
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