Isaac kissed Tim’s forehead. “I will later. We have all the time in the world.”
ISAAC HELPED Tim out of his warm-up suit and stripped him down to briefs and a T-shirt; then he tucked Tim into bed. Isaac wanted to lie down with him, but his mind buzzed now. He paced instead.
He’d just figured it all out.
He pulled out his phone and called up the results of men’s gymnastics. He smiled to himself, remembering the pep talk he’d given to Jake Mirakovitch. Whether he’d influenced the results was an open question, but he couldn’t get over the idea that if he’d had someone like himself to talk to when he’d made the national swim team, his life might have taken an entirely different track.
That coaching might be a part of his future was an idea he’d been flirting with for a while, but it had really gelled as he’d talked to Tim tonight. He knew everything there was to know about swimming; he knew how to teach the strokes, knew how to train, how to build speed and endurance. He knew the workouts required for conditioning out of the pool, knew about diets and calorie intake, knew about warm-ups and cool-downs. He could teach someone to swim at the elite level—he had faith in himself about that at least. But more to the point, he had a depth of knowledge about what being an elite athlete was like that Adam didn’t have. Adam had swum competitively at the NCAA level when he’d been in college, but hadn’t ever made it to a World Championship or an Olympics. He was an amazing coach, but he lacked firsthand elite athlete experience.
But Isaac had it. He knew what it felt like to rise to the highest places and fall to the lowest. He could use that knowledge to help athletes who struggled not just with the physical tolls of elite sports, but the mental and emotional ones.
He could see his whole future before him, and he liked it.
He stopped pacing and looked down at Tim. Tim was dead to the world, curled onto his side and fast asleep. A little stream of drool leaked down the side of his chin. Isaac smiled.
He felt happy.
It struck him as a little odd. He’d been unhappy for so goddamn long. Five years, probably. Depression over the end of his swimming career, caused by listlessness and boredom, had driven him to drink to begin with, and he was determined not to let himself go to that place again. He needed a purpose, and he thought he’d found one. He’d talk to Adam after he flew home about what kind of training he needed. He’d….
Well, what if the University of Colorado needed an assistant swim coach?
Isaac sat on the side of the bed, careful not to jostle Tim too much. What if… what if Isaac moved into Tim’s pretty house in the mountains, and he came home from a day of coaching a college swim team, and Tim came home from a long day of training, and they fell into bed together, exhausted but happy? What if they spent their days off together, hiking or skiing or just fooling around in bed? What if Isaac sat in the stands at Tim’s dive meets, and Tim came with Isaac to important swim competitions? What if they had each other? What if Isaac wasn’t alone anymore?
The thought of uprooting his life in Raleigh, as shitty as his apartment was, terrified Isaac. He’d never lived farther than an hour’s drive from his mother, and now he could see her, or Abby and her husband and his little nephew, in ten or fifteen minutes if he wanted. Having his mother nearby had been crucial to surviving his return from rehab. She’d been his rock, his support system, and her faith in him had never wavered. Tears sprang to his eyes as he thought about being so far away that he couldn’t just drive over to her house for a pep talk and a hug anymore. Could he really live without that? He felt a pang at the thought of his nephew growing up without Uncle Isaac around too, because he loved that kid to pieces. He loved his whole family, and Luke and his other friends, and even Adam. Could he really leave them?
He’d come to Madrid and done what he’d intended to do—he’d competed the right way, with his whole being, and he’d been handsomely