The Thomas Flair - E.J. Russell Page 0,15

Sol didn’t give a shit. Anger would get him through this first meeting, so that’s what he’d take.

He gritted his teeth and cracked the door open.

Tony startled, blinking as if he hadn’t expected Sol be on the other side of the door. It is my room. What did he expect? Sol stood with his hand on the door knob, his body blocking the way into the suite, and waited, unsmiling and unspeaking.

Tony licked his lips. “Hey.”

Sol didn’t reply.

Tony’s gaze flickered away, and he ran a hand over his hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?” Sol shrugged. “Is it, um, okay if I come in?”

Sol hesitated, but then stood aside so Tony could enter.

Tony glanced around at the common room. “Nice place.”

“It’s exactly the same as yours.”

He flashed a grin. “I know. It still beats the UO dorms, or that cramped suite in Rio.”

Heat rushed up Sol’s throat, settling behind his eyes. Seriously? His first words about Rio are about the living arrangements? “What do you want, Tony?”

“Are you alone?”

“Rahul’s here, but he’s studying in his room.”

“Rahul. The Stanford engineer, right? Danny said he liked to hit the books.” Tony shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “I don’t want to disturb him. Maybe we could go out, grab a cup of coffee?”

“I don’t think so.”

Tony blinked again. “No? But—”

“If you didn’t have anything to say to me for four years, I can’t imagine what you’d have to say now.”

“Aw, come on, Solly—”

Sol jerked back a step. “Don’t call me that.”

Tony held up his hands. “Sorry. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes—”

“You think?”

“I know. But we’re going to be training together. We’re on the same team.”

“We’re not.”

“What?”

Sol took a deep breath through his nose. “We’re not on the same team. We’re training in the same gym. But you’re not part of the team.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Yet here I am.”

“Not for long.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did they give you blackball power over who gets invited to the USOPTC?”

Sol ground his molars together. “Don’t be an asshole. Of course not.”

“Then explain yourself, because I got asked to come here, same as all of you.”

“This isn’t your kind of training, Tony. We spend time on basics. On consistency. On mindfulness.”

“Gymnastics 101? You think I can’t hack that?”

Sol met his gaze. Held it for two seconds, the same as if it were a strength move on still rings. “No.”

Tony rocked back on his heels. “You… Sol.”

The devastation in Tony’s voice almost made Sol relent. Almost. But almost didn’t win medals. Almost didn’t count when the team missed the podium again. “You’re all about risk. The big skills. The flashy moves.” He snorted. “The Thomas flair. But that’s not what we’re about anymore, Tony, because it doesn’t work.”

“Business as usual doesn’t work either, not when USA Gymnastics is trying to reinvent itself after its massive fuckups.” Tony’s eyes flashed as he took a step toward Sol. “Do you think playing it safe will pull men’s gymnastics out of its downward popularity spiral? Do you think consistency will pull in the fans? No. They want to see the big scary moves. They want the adrenaline rush.”

“You think we’re all here because of ratings?”

“No. I think you’re here because you love the sport, just like I do. We want the same things, Sol. We always have.”

No, I don’t think that’s true. Because once I wanted you. But I’m not so sure anymore. “Do we?”

Tony’s nostrils flared. “We do. Fans in the seats. Team USA on the podium in Tokyo. Are you saying you don’t want that?”

“Of course I do. But the way we get there isn’t through grandstanding and showboating. The judges won’t care about those risky skills if you can’t complete them. If you’ve come here thinking your way will get us on the medal stand, you’re wrong.” Sol heard Rahul’s bedroom door open behind him. “The training regime here, the team dynamic—it’s different from what you’re used to. You don’t belong here, Tony. Team USA needs athletes who don’t quit.”

Tony’s breath hitched, as if he’d taken a punch to the gut. “Not gonna lie, I’d hoped for a different reception, but I suppose from your point of view, I don’t deserve it. Good to know how you feel.” He pivoted and opened the door. “But I’ll prove you wrong. See you in the gym.” He walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Sol let out a breath, his shoulders sagging.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think?” Rahul’s voice was as

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