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This time, it’smyattention that drifts to Doug. Aldo told us about his plan, and I have no idea how he’s going to respond. We’ve decided to leave it until the last minute and say it’s a casual thing. If we give him too much time to think about it, there’s no way he’ll come.

“I hope you stretched out properly, Rossi!” Doug calls from the stands. “And stay hydrated while you travel!”

Aldo rolls his eyes. “It’s not even a two-hour flight.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Doug stands and saunters down the stairs toward us. “You’re my captain and this is the most important meet of the year. You’d better bring your ‘A’ game.”

“Or what?” Aldo fights to contain his smirk and I cough to cover my smile.

Doug folds his arms across his chest. “Uh uh. I’m not falling for the whole bratty routine, Rossi. Just look after yourself properly, okay.”

“Okay, Grandpa.” Aldo rolls his eyes again and turns to leave, but Doug reaches out and grabs his sleeve.

“Who the fuck are you calling ‘grandpa’?”

Aldo’s eyes dart to mine but I hold up my hands. “Hey, leave me out of this. You poked the bear. You deal with it.”

Doug glares at me and Aldo shrugs off his hold, lifting his chin defiantly. “I just meant, I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be, you know . . .”

“No.” Doug’s eyebrows raise. “I don’t know.”

Aldo’s cheeks darken and he looks at me pleadingly but I’m enjoying this too much to help him.

“I mean . . . it’s been a while since . . . you know? You were in peak condition.”

I snort and bite down on my fist to stifle my laughter. Doug’s jaw clenches so tightly I swear I hear his teeth creaking.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he grits out. “I’m in top condition. I could still be competing professionally if I wanted to.”

“Oh, you’ve really done it now,” I mutter, and Aldo shoots me a withering look.

“What?” Doug asks, turning to me. “You think I’m not? You think I couldn’t swim rings around you?”

My eyebrows shoot up and I glance at Aldo who seems extremely relieved that the focus has shifted from him. “Wait. I didn’t say—”

“Lane has to be faster than you,” Aldo says, his mouth twitching. “He’s eight years younger and swam professionally more recently. I mean, do you even swim anymore, Coach?”

There’s a teasing light in his eyes, but Doug either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care. “Fuck both of you. I’m a better swimmer than Masters, end of.”

I’m not about to argue and I don’t mention the fact that he hasn’t brought Aldo into this competition. Although, part of me is curious how they’d fare against each other in a race.

“Why don’t you prove it?” Aldo asks, shifting his kit bag higher on his shoulder. “Coach versus Assistant Coach. Grandpa versus Young Blood.”

Doug’s nostrils flare. “Call me ‘grandpa’ one more time and I’ll shove you in the fucking pool.”

As much as I didn’t like where this was going, I’m kind of curious now. Doug might be older than me, but he was undeniably a better swimmer at his peak. I mean, he has two Olympic medals to his name, whereas I quit competing in sophomore year of college.

“You know what? I’m game,” I say. “Or are you chicken?”

Doug groans. “You two are such fucking children.”

“You know who’d say that?” Aldo teases.

“Don’t,” Doug snaps.

“Come on.” I gesture to the empty pool. “It could be fun. Surely you don’t want to miss an opportunity to show me who’s boss?”

I can see Doug’s resolve wavering and I’m more determined than ever. He hasn’t engaged with us since the weekend, and this is the closest it’s felt to having him back—to breaking down those walls again.

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