The Thomas Flair - E.J. Russell Page 0,22
I didn’t know then that you… That we…”
“That I what? Don’t hold it in, Sol.” Tony leaned back on his elbows. “God knows you never have before.”
“Me?” Sol crowded closer, standing almost between Tony’s spread knees, which was giving parts of Tony’s anatomy the completely wrong idea. “I didn’t have a chance to hold it in or not because you fucking left. Just like you’re doing now.”
“Mixed signals much? First it’s get out, you don’t belong here. Now it’s don’t leave, because I need to be able to rag on you whenever the fuck I want. Which is it, Sol? Go, so you can rail on me for being a quitter, or stay so you can rail on me for being undeserving?”
“That’s not what I—” Sol huffed a breath. “Look, I know I gave you shit when you first arrived—”
“You think?”
“But you hadn’t spoken to me for almost four years, Tony. You ghosted me. You changed your fucking cell number.”
Tony couldn’t help the little seed of satisfaction that sprouted in his swamp of guilt. “So this is all about you and me, is it?”
“I thought we were friends. We were friends. Best friends.” The anger in Sol’s eyes drained away to leave behind a hurt so deep Tony wanted to howl. “But you didn’t even say goodbye.” His voice broke on the last word.
Tony sucked in a breath. “Ah, Christ. You’re killing me, Solly.”
Sol clenched his eyes shut. “I asked you not to call me that. Only my best friend calls me that, and he left me behind.”
Tony straightened, which made Sol back up a few steps and turn away. “You and me, Sol. We were on a different trajectory back then. You were on your way up. And you got there.” Tony smiled, his pride in Sol’s accomplishments bleeding through. “Three-time NCAA All-Around champ. Two-time US national All-Around champ. More event medals than I can remember”—not true: he remembered every one—“both nationally and internationally. Me? I was going the other direction fast.” Unless my father threw money around his fucking old-boy network.
Sol whirled to face him. “That’s not true. You could have come back to UO for your last year. Don’t you remember? You were the NCAA champion before me. You could have been again.”
“And then what? I didn’t have your grades. I don’t have your ambition. I don’t have your brains.”
“Bullshit. You’ve got ambition. You’ve got drive.” A smile glimmered on Sol’s full lips. “You’ve got one point two million YouTube followers.”
Tony jabbed a finger toward Sol. “Exactly. But I wouldn’t have them if I’d gone back to school and finished my mediocre degree with my mediocre grades and embarked on my mediocre life.”
Sol blinked. “Mediocre? You couldn’t be mediocre if you tried.”
Tony snorted. “What happened in Rio suggests otherwise.”
Sol’s eyes widened. “Is that what this is about? Injured pride? People not appreciating the notorious Thomas flair?”
“Are you kidding? Pride has nothing to do with it.”
Sol crossed his arms. “Right. Prove it then. Stay and compete at the trials.”
Sol surprised himself. He was doing a pretty convincing impression of righteous indignation when he wanted nothing more than to fall on his knees and beg Tony not to go. Okay, I wouldn’t mind doing other things on my knees, but this is so not the right time to think about that.
He glared at Tony. “Come on. I dare you.”
Tony tilted his chin and looked up at Sol with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, you did not go there.”
“Yes, I did.” He leaned down, the better to look straight into Tony’s face. “I double-dog dare you.”
Tony threw back his head and laughed. “We’re not still kids diving into the foam pit, Sol.”
“Really? Because you’re acting like a six-year-old who’s refusing to eat his vegetables. Come on, Tony. You can’t seriously think I want you to leave now.” Something fluttered in Sol’s belly. Was that guilt? Anxiety? Pure unadulterated terror? “Do you?”
Tony propped his elbows on his knees and threaded his fingers through his hair, the platinum-tipped curls contrasting with his dark skin in a very distracting manner. “I don’t know. But what you said about the guys here working so hard for their chance…” He looked up, his dark eyes bleak. “What right do I have to take that from them?”
Sol sat on the corner of the bed, leaving a safe distance between the two of them. “But you’ve been working too. With Andrei. With the rest of the team.”
Tony snorted. “And look how well that’s gone. I haven’t landed a dismount