“Oh my God, wow,” were the first words she said before holding her arms out for a hug. When I accepted, I resisted the urge to sink into her embrace, but it was hard. Her hair didn’t smell like flowers anymore. It smelled like high-end shampoo, maybe with argan oil. Her hug was so comforting. When she broke away, she held me in front of her so she could get a better look. As much as I wanted the embrace to last, I was thankful that it didn’t because it would have been a shortcut to an instantaneous unraveling.
She scanned my face and then my body, a long and careful examination that sent a potent shiver down my spine. Her glance had a bit of hunger in it, almost as if I was being objectified, but since it came from Kennedy, I loved it. I wanted her to stare at me like that for the rest of the evening.
“Damn, you look amazing,” she said as she took her seat. I followed. “You look like you’re ready to kick some ass in Tokyo.”
“Oh, I feel like it,” I said, straightening my back and doing a facetious hair flip.
She continued to take me in. “Is there any fat on you?”
“I think all that kale made sure I had minimum fat. Could explain all the pizza cravings I’ve been having.”
“I’ll make sure I order the flatbread, then.”
“You’re awful.”
She winked. “You like it.”
I smiled “A little.”
She noticed her drink and grinned. “Oh, you weren’t lying when you said there was a drink waiting for me.”
“Don’t get too excited. I have no idea what you like these days.”
She took a sip, then followed it with a wince. “Seriously, Quinn?”
After all this time, the power of her saying my name still did wonders to my insides. “What?”
“Out of all the drinks you could have ordered, you got me a Captain and Coke?” She shook her head, hiding a budding grin behind the rim of her glass as she took another sip.
“And in spite of all the advice I gave you, you still haven’t ditched that satchel purse?” I gestured to the large handbag next to her feet. “It screams Captain and Coke girl to me. Like your red Jetta.”
“Hey, I love this purse, and I loved that Jetta.”
“Love it more than hooking up with women?”
Her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. At least we were probably matching now. “It didn’t ruin my chances by that much.”
“Oh really?” I rested my chin on my palm and moved my eyebrows up and down. “Please go on.”
She laughed and crossed her arms. “I’m sure you would love to know. Gotta loosen me up a little more to get that dirt out of me.”
“Then let me get you another drink. Maybe a stronger one.” I waved the drink menu. “They have a nice selection. All happy hour prices.”
“That’s not even fair since you’re not drinking.” She pointed to my lemon water. “You can’t get me liquored up for juicy info when I can’t do the same to you.”
It was a very sad sight. I would have loved to order that delicious ten percent IPA that I’d only had twice in my life, but with a week out from leaving, I was in dry season, which meant zero alcohol, which also meant Lillian drank more to torture us.
“It’s for a gold medal, Kennedy. Now tell me what you want.”
Apparently, the right answer was a dry red wine. She let out a gasp and pointed to the menu as if I knew exactly what she was talking about when she said the restaurant had her favorite Petit Verdot, and she laughed when I told her I’d never heard of that wine before. Whatever the glass was, I forced her to order it.
“Are you a sommelier now?” I asked after the waitress took the order.
“Not in the slightest. When I studied abroad, I spent a long weekend down in southern France because my girlfriend’s aunt had a place down there. We went to a few wineries, and this was the best I had.”
Was it wrong of me to question if she meant girlfriend as a lover or a friend? Because I did.
I threw my hands up. “Oh, you went to southern France and acquired a taste for red wine. So fancy.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Of course. You set me up for it. Jetta owner Kennedy Reed, a French wine connoisseur.”
“Quinn Hughes, a two-time Olympian. I guess a lot has changed since the last time we saw each other. What was it? Two years ago?”
“Yeah, I think so. The dinner back in Aspen Grove.”
“Yeah, that dinner.” She said it as if that moment in the car sprouted in her mind, and she too was imagining the kiss that never happened. She blinked rapidly as if to tear herself out of the memory. “And now you’re traveling all the corners of the world.”
“My entire devotion to swimming is solely based on frequent flyer miles. Who cares about gold medals?”
“I wouldn’t. Those seat upgrades are key, especially for overnight flights. How many gold medals do you have now?”
“Thirteen gold. Eight silver. Two bronze. Only one Olympic medal.”
Rio was an interesting time. I tried out for the 200-meter and 400-meter free. I missed qualifying for the 200 by a literal hundredth of a second, which was much more devastating than missing the London Olympics by three. I qualified for the 400-free but ended up getting fourth, which added to my frustrations that I missed winning my first individual medal by a second. But I was on the 4x200-free relay that won gold, and I cherished that medal but was still bitter about my 200 and 400 performances. Rio brought me so much disappointment at the same time it gave me my first Olympic gold.
“Only one. Geez, the humanity,” Kennedy said. “Let me make fun of you for that comment now since you’re harping on my southern France story.”
I laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. I sounded a little ungrateful. I’m just upset I couldn’t qualify for the 200-free, and I missed the bronze in the 400 by a second.”
“Yeah, I bet that’s disappointing, but since then, you’ve become a six-time world champion. Sounds like you’re on a perfect path to winning gold in Tokyo.”
“Oh wow. You’ve really kept up with my career.”
“Of course I have,” she said casually before taking another drink. “I’ve known you since I was seven. I dated you in high school. I was there when you decided that you wanted to go to the Olympics. Why the hell wouldn’t I keep up with you?”
God, I was already in so much trouble. The exact feelings I’d told Talia I wanted to feel about a woman were already intoxicating me before we ordered our food. Everything was still there. Nothing had changed from high school. If anything, I felt a stronger pull. Besides my girlfriend Bethany, who was on my Berkeley swim team, no other girl had been interested or could keep up with my intense love for swimming. Alexis had found it boring. Other girls had found it too time consuming. And there was Kennedy, sitting back and cheering for me from the sidelines like always.
“I…I don’t know,” I said and shook my head. “It’s a lot to keep up with.”
“Not for me. I think it’s amazing. You’ve grown so much since high school. Thirteen gold medals, six-time world champion. Now you have five events in the Olympics. You’re moving up in the world, Quinn Charlotte Hughes. I’m so proud of you.”