photographer near the pool and….”
As Tim stammered, Isaac lifted an eyebrow.
“Forget it,” Tim said.
“You’re hiding from the media.”
“You could say that.”
“Dude, I know exactly what that’s like. I spent four weeks in rehab. The press wasn’t allowed within a certain radius of the facility, and I still spent all four of those weeks looking out for reporters hiding in bushes or whatever.”
Tim let out a breath. Of course. Isaac Flood, of all people, would know how Tim felt. “I wish I wasn’t so jumpy. I’m trying not to let it affect me.”
Isaac tilted his head. “So, what? The media is following you because you’re engaged to some actor. Who gives a shit?”
“Actually, we broke up six weeks ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be. And I don’t want to talk about it. All I know is that even the color commentators seem more interested in what I do with my dick than what I do when I dive. And frankly, I’m sick of it.”
Isaac pursed his lips and looked at Tim for a long, unnerving moment. He glanced around. They were essentially alone. Water ran in the shower area, behind a partition Tim couldn’t see around, so he assumed men were showering. But otherwise no one stood in eye- or earshot.
Isaac said softly, “Because you’re not returning Olympic champion Tim Swan, you’re gay diver Tim Swan.”
“That about sums it up, yeah.”
“And I’m not four-time Olympian Isaac Flood, but alcoholic fuckup Isaac Flood.”
Tim knew Isaac had an alcohol problem, because he lived in the world. Probably only one other aquatics athlete got as much attention as, if not more than, Tim, and that was Isaac. Because Isaac had been to three previous Olympics. Because he’d been a cute kid once. Because he’d been on a Wheaties box. Because all of his endorsement deals had been pulled after he’d gotten the DUI.
And yet, here Isaac Flood stood.
Maybe Tim could learn something here.
“You coming or going?” Tim asked.
“From the shower? Going. Just finished. I figured I’d get one in because the water’s not running in my room.”
“Same here. I’m headed for the showers, I mean. But, uh, I hope we run into each other again.”
Isaac smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”
Chapter 2
AT HOME Isaac had a personal chef who prepared most of his meals. He’d been on a heavy diet of leafy greens, whole grains, and lean protein since he’d started training again. He’d resisted the diet change at first and found it hard to follow—too many rules, too few cupcakes—but he’d adjusted. And he couldn’t deny that the changes had made him feel like he was back in fighting form.
But the Olympic Village was sponsored by a fast-food chain, and they had outposts peppered throughout the area. Isaac hadn’t eaten a hamburger or anything fried in eight months, and he wasn’t about to start during competition. Especially not first thing in the morning.
“My kingdom for a green smoothie,” Isaac muttered to himself.
He had to ask three people for directions, but eventually he found himself in a cafeteria that at least had a station where he could get some eggs. He texted his chef to see what would be the best thing to eat, given the options, but then remembered the time difference. Tony would most certainly still be asleep. Still, within a few minutes, Tony texted back a potential menu.
Tony was worth every penny of his hefty salary. Isaac filled a plate.
Isaac found Luke seated at the end of a table, clearly flirting with Katie Santiago from their swim club, who was a bit too young for him. Isaac considered butting in and joining them, but then he saw Tim Swan sitting at a table by himself.
Little Timmy Swan. That’s what they’d called him four years ago. Isaac vaguely remembered that Team USA had been very excited about this diving phenom. Tim wasn’t that little, it turned out. He was shorter than Isaac, sure, but most people were. Tim was maybe five nine or five ten, and all lean muscle. While he wasn’t as bulky as most of the swimmers, Tim was svelte like a diver. Undeniably strong but… beautiful too.
Isaac’s libido had stood up and taken notice the moment Isaac had put his hands on Tim the night before in the locker room. He’d only done it to keep the kid from injuring himself, but then, pow. Tim had tan skin, hair so dark it was nearly black, and dark eyes that belied a certain amount of intelligence and thoughtfulness. And he was gorgeous—one of