Page 32 of The Dating Coach
We walked in silence to the smaller pool used for warm-downs. I slipped back into the water, and to my surprise, Liam sat on the deck, feet dangling in the pool.
"That was incredible," he said quietly as I began easy laps. "I've never seen anyone move through water like that."
"I lost," I said between strokes.
"You took second in a field of conference champions," he corrected. "While carrying more stress than anyone should have to handle."
I stopped mid-pool, treading water to look at him. "Is this the part where you tell me winning isn't everything?"
"No," he said simply. "Winning matters to you, so it matters. I'm not going to minimize that. But Gemma..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "You're allowed to be human. You're allowed to have off days. It doesn't make you less impressive."
"You don't understand," I said, resuming my laps to avoid his too-perceptive gaze. "In the water, I'm supposed to be perfect. It's the one thing I can control."
"Is it though?" He shifted, and I caught sight of his expression – thoughtful, not pitying. "Can you control the otherswimmers? The pool conditions? Whether you slept well the night before?"
I didn't answer, but my stroke faltered slightly.
"You know what I noticed during your race?" he continued. "Your technique was flawless. Textbook butterfly form. But in the last fifty, when that other swimmer started closing? You didn't tighten up or panic. You dug deeper. You fought. That's not about control, Gemma. That's about heart."
I reached the wall and stopped, hanging on the edge near his feet. "Since when are you a swimming expert?"
"Since I started watching film to understand what you do." He said it casually, like it wasn't a confession that made my chest tight. "There are a surprising number of butterfly technique videos online."
"You watched swimming technique videos?" I stared at him. "Why?"
"Because it matters to you," he said simply. "Because I wanted to understand why you light up when you talk about the water. Because..." He paused, color rising in his cheeks. "Because I like a swimmer and I figured I should at least try to speak her language."
Around us, other swimmers moved through their warm-down routines, but I felt suspended in this bubble of chlorine-scented possibility.
"Liam," I started, not sure what I was going to say.
"I know," he interrupted gently. "Timing, complications, all of it. I'm not pushing. Just... being honest."
"GEMMA!" Karen's voice echoed across the pool deck. "Team meeting! Also, Mia's here and she's crying happy tears about something!"
The moment shattered, but the warmth in my chest remained. I hauled myself out of the pool, hyperaware of Liam's eyes tracking the movement.
"I should go," I said, reaching for my towel.
“We’re heading to the diner afterward,” he said, standing as well. “Mia set a personal record in the fiftyfree at her school swim meet this morning. Frank's declaring it a celebration. You should come. Both of you."
"I'll think about it," I said, but we both knew I'd be there. Somewhere between his defense of me to Devon and watching swimming videos to understand my world, saying no to Liam Delacroix had become impossible.
The team meeting was a blur of Coach's technical notes and upcoming meet schedules. But I kept thinking about what Liam had said – about heart mattering more than control, about being human not being a failure. It went against everything I'd taught myself, but sitting in that chlorine-soaked meeting room, I wondered if maybe my worldview needed adjusting.
Later, squeezed into a booth at the diner between Liam and the wall, watching Mia glow as Frank recounted her race and mine with dramatic embellishments, I felt that dangerous warmth again. Henry had ordered half the menu, Karen was stealing fries from everyone's plates, and Liam's thigh pressed against mine under the table in a way that felt intentional.
"You're smiling," he murmured, low enough only I could hear.
"Mia's happy," I deflected.
"And you?" He turned slightly, creating a private moment in the chaos. "Are you happy?"
I thought about it – really thought about it. My organic chemistry exam was in a week, my sister was still technically a runaway, I'd just lost my signature swimming event, and I was falling for someone at the worst possible time.
But Mia was laughing. Karen was threatening Frank with a french fry sword. Henry was explaining some obscure hockey rule with passionate intensity. And Liam was looking at me like I'd hung the moon, even after watching me fail.
"Yeah," I admitted quietly. "I think I am."
