Page 44 of Yesterday I Cared
“What are you talking about? You’re not stuck. You’re doing a lot with your life, Mia.”
“Sure.” I snort. “Says the Olympian turned philanthropist.”
“No. Says the man who had the only thing that made him anything taken from him and had to figure out how to be a contributing member of society.”
Swimming isn’t the only thing that made him someone. I’ve always seen him for who he is, and that is someone who deeply cares about helping those he can. Someone who is determined to break away from his family’s hold and create a life he can be proud of. Someone who is as gorgeous on the inside as he is on the outside. Even when I was mad at him, I never only saw the heartless, playboy reputation he projected out to the world. I’d always been able to see Ronan.
I don’t get the chance to say any of that to him.
He steps up to Bryce again. “I’m happy for you, dude. She’s going to love it.” Bryce grins at him. Pure happiness radiates off him, and he hasn’t even asked her yet. “If there’s nothing else, though, I’m going to head home. I had a long day and need to feed Lezak.”
Bryce’s gaze moves from Ronan to me, observing the moment. “Yeah, of course.” He nods. “Thanks for coming.”
With another quick hug, Ronan is scooping the sleepy puppy from the bench to head for the door. No one says a word until he’s fully left the building. The pool is eerily quiet, and I need it to stop.
“Mia—”
“It’s fine, Bryce.” My eyes plead with him to drop it. I’m not even sure what I’d say. What even happened? “Show me the ring again.”
He hesitates and is about to check in on me before thinking better of it.
“When are you going to do it?” I ask once I have my breath back from looking at it again.
That’s how I spend the next forty-five minutes, sitting on the uncomfortable bleachers, throwing out random ideas for Carter and Bryce to either shoot down or turn into a theatrical production. Imay not have helped pick the ring, but Bryce will definitely need my input on the proposal because Josie would hate a sky writer.
And it gives me something to focus on other than Ronan.
With my arms firmly crossed over my chest, I watch the mayhem of teenagers performing drills in the pool. My gaze flicks from swimmer to swimmer, taking quick mental notes about what needs to be adjusted and worked on. When I glance at the clock on the wall, I notice Bryce walking toward me. I try not to let myself tense.
Where the hell is she?
“Looking good,” he comments when he reaches me. He stands beside me in a position that mirrors my own, watching silently for a minute or so. “Aren’t you missing someone, though?”
“Yup,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
From the beginning, I’ve made it clear to Emmie that if she wants to do this, she needs to commit. She’d promised she would and has been following through on that promise, until recently. In the last ten days, she’s been late to over half the practices with little to no explanation. Whenever I try to ask her about it, she gets out of the water or runs off to the locker room to change and go home.
“How many times has she been late?”
“Enough,” I bite out. “The last two weeks have been the worst. I’m going to talk to her.”
“The season is coming up, dude. You don’t want a swimmer who doesn’t show up for her team. I thought she wanted to swim relays?”
I’d already put several swimmers through mock relay races, trying to figure out our strengths and what areas we need to strengthen. What athletes swim it well together, and which ones don’t. Swimming may seem like an individual sport, but it’s not. And when you commit to a team, you’re expected to show up when you’re supposed to.
I turn to Bryce. “She’s usually about ten to fifteen minutes late. If she comes in, tell her not to change but to come talk to me. Get Carter to bring me the kickboards his group used, and she’ll clean them.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Are we about to see hard-ass Coach O’Brien?”
Rolling my eyes, I bite back a smile. “Don’t pretend like the hard-ass coaches weren’t the ones who made all the difference.”
“Hell yeah they did.” He raises a fist, and I bump mine against it. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
As requested, Carter brings out a couple of large bags full of the used kickboards with the disinfectant she’ll need to use. He doesn’t say anything, but he knows exactly why I’d ask for something like this.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Emmie is heading down the length of the pool, still dressed, a bashful smile in place.
The rest of the team is taking a water break. I turn my focus to them and blow my whistle. Their gazes snapped toward me, listening as I give them a set I know will keep them occupied while I talk to Emmie. Once they are all back to what they were doing, I turn to Emmie.
