work for you.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
“Hey, you can’t argue with results.” He kissed Sol’s lips, soft and lingering. “Now put some clothes on, you exhibitionist. It’s time for dinner and they frown on nudity in the dining hall.”
One one thousand two one thousand.
Tony’s lips weren’t moving, but he was counting in his head anyway. If Sol had a weak event, it was still rings, and Tony had been on the edge of his seat ever since Volya had lifted Sol into the air to begin his routine. Damn, why does he have to start on rings? On the other hand, that meant he’d end on pommel horse, which was a downer for most gymnasts, but not Sol. Now if he can just keep from letting his strength holds decay…
Danny, sitting next to him, nudged Tony in the ribs with his elbow. “Dude. Chill. You’d think you were the one out there.” He stuck his index fingers in his mouth and whistled loud enough to pierce Tony’s eardrums. “Atta boy, Sol!”
“It would be easier if I was,” Tony muttered. It would be easier if I was on the floor with him. For some reason, sitting up here in the stands put a greater mental distance between them than the physical distance Tony had maintained so religiously in the years after Rio.
Down on the floor, Sol swung out of a rock-solid handstand and into a double twisting layout dismount and… stuck it.
Tony leaped to his feet. “Yes! That’s how you do it!”
In the row in front of them, the other guys in the team cheered and clapped. Danny slapped Tony on the back. “See? You need to give your boo more credit.”
Tony grinned at Danny’s easy recognition of his and Sol’s relationship. “I give it to him. Believe me, I do. But damn, I wish we could be down there with him. Down there with them both.”
Danny squinted across the gym where Rahul was waiting for his next rotation. He’d hit his vault with a decent score, although not the highest in his cohort. Still, he was a consistent gymnast rather than a flashy one, with no one event especially stronger than another. He just methodically built up his totals, one solid, dependable performance at a time.
Sol’s score flashed on the board, better than his qualifying or team final scores by two tenths. That’s my boy.
Tony collapsed back into his seat, grinning like a fool.
“Tony.”
Shit. At the unwelcome sound of his father’s voice, Tony’s grin dropped off his face. His father was standing in the aisle next to Tony’s seat, the belligerent thrust of his jaw doing nothing to disguise the bloat in his face and neck. “Dad.”
“I expected to see you after the qualifying round. Or at the very least after the team final. We need to talk.”
“This isn’t a good time.” Tony gestured to the gym floor, where the twenty-four guys in the all-around competition were marching to their next rotation.
“That’s an understatement. You should have been out there.”
“Whoa,” Danny murmured.
Tony stood up. “We’re not having this conversation in the middle of the stands.” He glanced down at Danny, who was staring between Tony and his dad with wide eyes. “I’ll be back.”
Tony marched up the stairs to the exit and into the concourse that circled the arena. It was mostly empty now, since all the reasonable people were inside watching the meet. Yeah, only my dad would be self-centered enough to think this was a good time for a father-son heart-to-heart.
Tony stopped next to a pillar displaying an Olympic banner and turned to face his father. “All right. Talk. But if you make me miss the guys’ next routines, I will end you.”
His dad, several inches taller although no longer broader, crossed his arms over his ex-linebacker’s chest. “What the fuck were you thinking, Tony? You kicked Andrei to the curb?”
Tony forced himself to take a deep breath. “Andrei kicked himself to the curb.”
“Bullshit. You could have taken a stand. Defended him. Got him back into the Training Center to whip you into shape so you’d be out on that floor right now.”
“I was never gunning for the all-around.”
“Also bullshit. Every athlete wants to win. You want to win. You’ve never been the kid who sat on the sideline like a fucking cheerleader, for God’s sake.”
“Listen, Dad—”
“If they wouldn’t let Andrei in the door, you should have walked. There are other gyms. You could have—”
“Are you out of your mind?” The difference in height