He chuckles. “Yeah, man, I hope so. But if I want to make the Olympics one day, which I do, I need to get a good time today. I know this race doesn’t mean much, but getting twenty-four or something now would be a nightmare, and it’d be almost impossible to bounce back from that. So I guess it’s normal to be a little nervous.”
Up ahead is a brick bathroom. Inside, there are three rows of benches. Two shirtless guys are in the corner of the room, chatting. Trevor dumps his bag on the closest bench, then he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head. I gape for a second before turning away. He’s maybe even bigger than Robert, the Bad from the LIC. He’s not as shredded as Robert is, but still, Trev looks stronger. I guess it’s because his muscles actually have a purpose; they’re not for show like a Love Interest’s are. I chance another look. His skin is paler than I thought it’d be for someone who swims all the time, and a few dark moles cover his skin, one beneath his left nipple, another beside his belly button. They’re imperfections, obviously, but they’re also endearing. His body is unique in a way that mine will never be.
I shake my head and the thought dislodges.
I make my way to a bathroom stall and switch into my board shorts, which are blue and come down to just above my knees. I keep my shirt on, because if I’m going to strip, I need to do it in front of Juliet.
I walk out. Trevor is now wearing thin gray pants but is still shirtless. He looks down at my trunks and frowns. “Are you serious, man? You’re wearing board shorts?”
“What’s wrong with them? I got them especially for this.”
“Don’t you know how much they slow you down?”
I fidget. “I didn’t until now.”
He dismissively waves his hand. “It’s cool. Sorry, I forget sometimes what I care about doesn’t matter that much to other people. Let’s go see the others.”
It takes an hour for us to be called. I spend the time in the bleachers next to Juliet, watching the races, occasionally scanning the crowd for Dyl. Trevor sits on the row in front of us with his huge body bent forward. Natalie massages his shoulders, occasionally rubbing his back and telling him, “You’ve got this, babe.”
A speaker crackles. “Seventeen-to-eighteen boys for the fifty freestyle.”
“This is us,” says Trevor, and he stands up.
I rise and take a step after him. I should take my shirt off now, but to do so would be kind of weird because Trev is already shirtless, and I can’t make it seem like I’m stripping in front of Juliet deliberately.
Trevor presses a knuckle to his forehead. “God, Caden, this is like baby steps. Do you plan on swimming in your shirt?”
I shake my head.
“Then it can’t come to the pool. Come on, shirt off, hurry up.”
Thank you! I grab the collar of my shirt and grip it tight for a second, like I’m nervous about taking it off. Then I pull it over my head in one swift movement. I keep my eyes down as I scrunch it up and stuff it into my backpack, using the movement as an excuse to flex a bit. I chance a glance at the girls as I’m zipping up my bag. They’re both staring, no, gaping at me. Natalie’s mouth is open and her eyes are wide. Juliet is chewing her bottom lip.
“Fuck, man,” says Trevor. “And you say you don’t lift? Fucking liar.”
I cross my arms, covering my chest. A Bad would smirk, maybe even put on a show. But I need to be awkward and uncomfortable, like I’m as shocked by my body as they are. “I … um, it’s not that impressive, is it?”
“You’re gorgeous,” says Natalie. “Own it, man!”
I blush on cue, then scratch the back of my neck, tensing my muscles as I move. If I’ve pulled it off, I’ll look nervous but still mega sexy. It’s a fine line, but it’s one of the textbook Nice moves and I’ve practiced it countless times. I think I’ve got it down, but I can’t bring myself to look at Juliet to see if it’s had the desired impact.
“Let’s go, Tyson Beckford,” says Trevor. “You’ve given the girls enough of a show.”
We turn and walk away. As we step down off the bleachers I turn and look at Juliet. She’s whispering something to Natalie, which could mean anything. She could be talking about, I don’t know, how cute/buff/handsome I am, or about how she now thinks I’m a huge douche with no class for stripping in front of her. Trevor steps closer to me.
“You can wear your shirt to the pool,” he says. His eyes have lit up with maniacal glee. “But you should’ve seen Juliet’s face. You’re going to be in her dreams tonight and you’re welcome for that, man.”
I scratch my forearm. “I’m that obvious, huh? Do you think she knows I like her?”
We reach the sign-in area, which is just a row of plastic chairs basking in the sun guarded by a man holding a clipboard. He writes our names, then lets us pass.
Most of the spots in our row are already taken, occupied by guys in various stages of undress. I check them out, then realize what I’m doing is out of character, so I turn to Trevor. He’s also looking at the other guys, but it’s pretty clear he’s just sizing them up as threats rather than, well, appreciating them in the way that I do.
He notices me staring and points to two free seats. We make our way to them and sit down. My eyes snap open as the bare skin of my lower back starts to sizzle. I leap forward and rub the middle of my back with one hand, then lean forward so my back doesn’t touch the backrest. Still, I can feel the heat of the seat through the thin material of my shorts.
“To answer your question, Juliet is the smartest person I know,” says Trevor, who is seemingly oblivious to the hellfire he’s sitting on. “If I figured it out, she probably has as well.”
But you haven’t got it figured out. You’re so wrong it hurts.
Dyl appears out of the bathroom and starts walking toward us. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and track pants, and his hair is swept back behind his ears. He reaches the sign-in area and quickly signs in. Then he walks up to our row and picks the seat right next to mine. I sit up straighter and breathe out. Come on, man, don’t blush. That’s embarrassing. But he’s about to take his shirt off, I know he is, and I’m also shirtless, which is making the whole thing feel dangerously sexy. Like he could grab me at any moment and kiss me and I’d finally find out what it’s like to touch another guy’s naked chest. My stupid body betrays me, and I go kinda hard and my cheeks grow warm. Fan-freaking-tastic.
Dyl glances at me, then, silently, he pulls his shirt up and over his head.