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woman was usually something I tried to avoid, but she was so fucking beautiful I was running out of reasons to turn around and walk away.
    There was only one way this was going to go.
    “Come on.” I grabbed her hand in mine and led her toward the back exit. “You’re upset. You need a shoulder to cry on.”
    “I didn’t say yes.”
    “But you didn’t say no.”
    I pushed through the swinging door and we emerged into the parking lot. The lights from the arena lit up the sky. It hadn’t sunk in yet that less than two hours ago, I had broken the world record in that building while my entire country watched.
    I was a star. I was their hero. I was Blaine Crews.

Chapter Eight

Ava
    M y laptop seemed as discouraged by the heat as I was. It sputtered and clicked when I turned it on. I wanted to try to get as much of Blaine’s story together as I could. I looked at my phone. I had a few hours before Vic wanted everything on the server.
    First I wanted to record my notes from our interview, and then I was going to head to the aquatics center. I needed to see for myself what was going on at the swim facility. If I was lucky I might be able to interview someone who worked in the building. Maybe there would be another swimmer trying to get in the pool who would be willing to give me a few quotes.
    It would be difficult to get a statement from an Olympic representative, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t give them a chance to comment. I looked at my watch. I needed to get over there.
    I pulled a bottle of water from my bag. I had stocked up on snacks and water at one of the markets on the block.
    I wanted to crawl under the covers and shake the remnants of jet lag along with the encounter with Blaine, but I had work to do. I needed this job. I had to power through until this story was on the server.
    I felt the adrenaline awaken my senses as I pieced together the details into a narrative that explained what Blaine experienced this morning. What if this was only the first account? What if more of the venues weren’t ready for athletes?
    I could comb the city, unearthing the deficiencies, exposing the Olympics for what they were. What Blaine had done for me was huge, but I didn’t want to be indebted to him for giving me a one-of-a-kind exclusive that no one in the press corps had. Part of me knew people would pay big money for the kind of access I had to him.
    I piled my hair on top of my head, fastening it with a clip. The wispy ends fell around my face. I brushed one aside and remembered Blaine’s fingers grazing my skin. I closed my eyes for a second. And let myself remember.

    * * *
    5 weeks ago

    W e stood in the parking lot looking at the lights swirling around us. Sydney was a beautiful city.
    As Blaine clutched my hand, I realized how strong and wide his hands were. They made mine feel small and sheltered.
    He towered over me, and I wondered how distraught I was to walk out here with him. But was he a stranger? Everyone in the world knew who he was. I had been covering his story since I arrived in Sydney.
    I did know things about him. I knew he didn’t have a family cheering for him in the stands. I knew he was twenty-seven. I knew he had eaten more calories per day than I did in a week.
    I had interviewed hundreds of players, but none of them had the effect on me that Blaine did. I reminded myself this wasn’t an interview. I didn’t know what it was. Only that I was standing outside with one of the most revered athletes in the world and his fingers were threaded through mine as if somehow, for just this moment, I was his.
    He leaned close and I could smell the fresh soap on his skin. He must have showered after the meet and run across the street to get a celebratory pint.
    I liked the clean scent. I was surprised by how many things I liked about him.
    I didn’t know how I fit into his night. Why was I staring into his eyes when he could be sharing his victory with anyone else?
    The night air felt good