sue me. It was way too early for whatever she was about to buy. Even though I’d traveled all over the world, I’d never gotten used to things like noodles or curries for breakfast.
I figured that was what came from existing off egg white omelets for years on end.
When she returned with bottles of stuff I’d watched her scan with her phone to read the translation, then more packets of food than Coach would thank us for, I shuffled over to one of the small tables in the nook.
There were three tables to about nineteen vending machines—I’d never seen anything like it. Just wall after wall of them, each containing so many options I had no idea where to start. The white-tiled floor and walls were spotlessly clean, and the stainless steel tables were chilly against my ass and back. Considering I’d worked up a little sweat in the humid air outside, I considered that a boon.
As she started dishing out her spoils, I grabbed a bottle of what looked like cold milk tea. Claiming it as my own, I popped the seal and took a deep sip. It was sugary as hell, but damn good nonetheless.
As she broke into a bar of what looked like granola, she muttered, “Jonas texted me.”
“He’s a dick,” I stated flatly, not even bothering to say anymore—she knew my opinion of him.
“I know he is.”
“So why did you bring him up?” Because she wanted to be convinced to avoid him.
This, I suddenly realized, was why she’d wanted to go shopping.
I never bullshitted her or shot hot air up her ass, so she liked to use me as a sounding board.
“Because I still have feelings for him,” she mumbled, her gaze on the strange green bar she was chewing on. It looked pretty gross until she snapped some off for me and I took a hesitant bite.
“Oh, that’s good,” I muttered, chomping down hard on what was some kind of sesame brittle, only it was green.
“There’s the matcha you’ve been moaning for,” she muttered dryly, prompting me to roll my eyes because, sure, I was being the pain in the ass here.
“If you have feelings for him,” I grumbled, “then be with him.”
Lori pulled a face at my tactic. “He’s wrong for me.”
“Yes, he is. But you want him. So be with him.”
“You’re not helping, Thea,” she groused.
“Just telling you how it is. You don’t really want my opinion, because you already know that I think he’s a jerk. What did he say when we went to that birthday party before flying over here?”
“He called me fat.” She hunched her shoulders.
“And when you have to go to the pool, or when Coach calls, what does he do?”
“Makes me feel bad for training so much—”
“Which really makes no sense. You’d think he’d want you to train, wouldn’t you? If you’re so fat, I mean.”
“Not helping, Thea!” she barked at me, harder this time.
I grinned at her, unrepentant, but then I sobered up. “Lori, you’re beautiful. Your ass is gorgeous. Your body is a machine that has helped you reach a competitive level few dare to dream of… and you care what that dick says? A dick that resents anything you do that doesn’t revolve around him?”
She blinked. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” I mumbled.
Leaving her to think about that for a second, I grabbed my phone and checked to make sure Coach hadn’t contacted me. He hadn’t, but only a few seconds in to checking out Instagram, my phone buzzed.
Spying Robert’s name on the Caller ID, I answered, “Hey, Robert. Everything okay?”
“It’s me.”
Two guesses as to who that was.
My heart plummeted before it soared, and I could feel my entire being start to throb like I’d been given electroshock therapy.
“What’s wrong?”
There had to be something wrong for him to be calling me from Robert’s phone.
“Nothing. He’s using the hotel landline and told me to call you.”
His calm tone disturbed me on so many levels. I knew I sounded breathy, like I was mimicking Marilyn Monroe or something, whereas he sounded unaffected.
Like he was talking to his mom or something.
God, I wished I had that level of control.
“Why?” I asked, reaching for my drink and taking a deep gulp in the hopes it would settle me down.
“Nike wants to tie you down to a meeting. He wants to confirm it with you. On Friday. His hotel. Four PM.”
Six days away… I swallowed. “I-I think I can do that. It’s the day before the 800m Freestyle race. I