Here Comes the Flood - Kate McMurray Page 0,37

tattoos, save for the Olympics rings on his ass, something he’d done after his second Olympics, while drunk. At least no one could see that, since it was under his swimsuit. The media generally had treated Phelps well, like someone who made a mistake, but once it surfaced that Isaac had been a full-on alcoholic, it was over. Rather than partying, he’d wasted his peak years trying to drown himself in a bottle of vodka. He’d also somewhat famously taken home a one-night stand who had stolen one of his medals, although he’d gotten it back when she’d stupidly put it up on an online auction site. So maybe some of the bad press was deserved, although his mother often tried to tell him he’d gotten a bad break.

But he’d just changed everything with less than a minute in a pool.

When he climbed out of the pool, Adam and one of the other coaches were waiting for him.

“How do you feel?” Adam asked.

“Like I’m dying.” And Lord, he wanted a drink.

“Here’s the deal. Medal ceremonies are in about fifteen minutes, so that’s how long you have to pull yourself together. Wear the warm-up suit with the red sleeves.”

“I have a warm-up suit with red sleeves?”

“It’s in your locker.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve gotten six media requests, but I imagine you’re wiped out now, so I’ve put them all off until tomorrow. But your first is the morning show at nine o’clock. You have to be there at least a half hour before that.”

“Oy. That’s….” He glanced up at the clock. “Ten hours from now. And I still have to do a medal ceremony?”

“Well, you have to stand on the podium to get your medals.”

Isaac sighed. “All right.”

“And be back here tomorrow at noon to do the 400 free prelims.”

“Of course.”

“Sheri will put together an itinerary for you.” Sheri was the assistant to USA Swimming. She generally handled logistics for the whole team.

“All right.”

Adam stared at Isaac for a moment; then he pulled Isaac into a hug. He slapped Isaac’s back a bunch of times. “You did good, kid.”

“Thanks.”

On the walk back to the locker room, he thought of Tim. Most likely he wouldn’t ever be able to cross the threshold of this locker room again without thinking of Tim. And he wanted Tim here. He wanted Tim in his arms. He wanted someone to share this with. The sentiment didn’t quite cancel out his desire for a drink, but it was still strong. On the other hand, he’d won not just one gold medal, but two, and he intended to make good on their agreement. As soon as his limbs started working like they were supposed to again.

He found his locker, next to Luke’s, and got it open. A warm-up suit with red sleeves did indeed hang from the bar in the middle.

“Good Lord,” Isaac said.

Luke slapped his back. “Welcome to the rest of your life, Flood.”

TIM WAS dozing when his phone beeping startled him awake. He glanced at it.

Text from Isaac: Twice.

A moment later Isaac sent a photo, a shirtless selfie with two gold medals hanging from his neck.

“Oh my God,” Tim said aloud.

He’d seen the individual medley, but then he’d gone back to his room to lie down for a little while, tired and irritated by the other guys crowding around the TV in the lounge. He’d completely forgotten that Isaac was scheduled to swim in the relay.

Do you plan to celebrate tonight? Tim texted.

A long delay passed before Isaac texted back. The guys from the relay team are. I should for team unity. Then I gotta rest because I have more races tomorrow.

Tim found that disappointing, but then, he’d also been hoping Isaac would want to spend the night with Tim to celebrate.

Miss you, Tim texted. Then he regretted it, because of all the needy, clingy things to say….

But Isaac texted back a smile emoji. Then he said, Come to my room tonight. 308. I’ll text you when I get there.

Tim grinned at his phone. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.

Tim hauled himself out of bed and into the shower, wondering idly where Jason had gotten to. Probably hooking up with whoever had caught his fancy this evening. Their first event was the next day, but Tim had already decided spending the night with Isaac was more important than sleep, so he’d be a hypocrite if he called out Jason for doing the same. He’d track Jason down in the morning.

About twenty minutes after Tim got out of the shower, he got

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