Three days of hard practice and Bas was impressed with what he saw in the pool. Medley relay was back to full speed with Alex in the lineup again, and the individual medley swimmers had also bounced back after losing Ryan. Terrence, now their lead IM swimmer and also Jacob’s breaststroke backup, was within a couple hundredths of Ryan’s personal best, and their third IM swimmer, Hunter, Bas’s fly backup, was only a few tenths behind him. Both men’s and women’s teams had rallied behind them, cheering whenever they were in the pool, frustrating Coach as he tried to track the swimmers with his stopwatch, no matter the giant clocks at either end.

Midway up the bleachers, Bas had a better view than all of them, which Alex had recognized too, frequently ditching the pool-side ruckus and joining him with a notebook. Today, though, the captain’s hands were free as he shuffled down the row toward Bas.

“Any new designs you love?”

Alex was used to him sketching at all hours, including during practice, the waterproof graphics tablet making it even easier to draw on deck than it used to be. His sketches usually made it onto his, a teammate’s, or a client’s skin, or onto his LA shop’s walls. The drawings in this folder, however, were for Bas’s eyes only. Tablet angled so Alex couldn’t see the screen, Bas saved and closed the drawing, sliding it into the folder labeled DPR.

“Working it out,” Bas said, as he set the tablet aside. Changing the subject, he jutted his chin at the pool. “Terrence and Hunter are doing well; you’d be doing better.” While Alex raced in medley relay and backstroke, he was a gifted all-around swimmer. Almost as good as Ryan in IM.

Alex shook his head. “That’s the last thing I want to do after what went down with Ryan. It’d only prove his point.” Ryan had been angry at the veterans, like Alex and Bas, who’d returned to take up starting spots again on the squad. “I’m not about to take his one spot, or the two for that matter.”

“I don’t think the rest of the team would see it that way if you’re the most qualified.”

Alex looked out over the pool, then back at him. “Have you heard any similar discontent from the younger swimmers?”

“Not me, but let’s go to the source.” Bas cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Yo, Pup!”

Jacob popped up from where he’d been kneeling by the pool next to Terrence, cheering on and coaching his backup. Selfless, perhaps to a fault, in a sport that required competitive drive. Was this why Jacob “didn’t know how to win”? Did he really choke or was he putting himself second? Letting others take the spotlight instead? Bas would have to talk to him; that mindset would not fly at the Olympics, especially with other swimmers trying to get in his head. For now, though, they had to deal with their own squad’s bigger issues. He waved over the youngest member of their team.

“Ahoy!” Jacob plopped down on the bleacher row in front of them. “What’s up?”

“Any more rumblings from the greenhorns about us vets?” Bas asked, returning a little sailor speak.

“Matey!” Jacob said, holding out a fist for a bump.

Bumping back, Bas laughed, indulging in Jacob’s big toothy smile, until Captain Alex brought them to task. “English or Spanish, no pirate please.”

Still smiling, Jacob returned to attention, following his captain’s orders. “Mike watches you two”—he gestured at Alex and Bas—“and Kevin and Sean, like a hawk. He swam with Ryan at Florida, so I thought maybe he’d be a problem, but I caught a glimpse of his journal the other night in the lounge, and it’s full of swim notes. He’s not resentful at all, just eager to learn. Looking to you vets for expertise.” Jacob rattled off several more hyperobservant tidbits about their teammates that would have made a shrink, or detective, proud.

“You got all that, just observing?” Alex said, shaking his head. “That CompSci degree you’re getting is wasted. You should have gone into psych.”

“Cousin’s the psych major,” Jacob said with a shrug. “I pick things up.” More than a few things, Bas judged. “Honestly,” Jacob continued, “we’re all too focused on the now and terrified about what to expect next.”

“In Madrid?” Alex said.

Jacob nodded. “We’ve heard the stories. How do we keep our focus with all that craziness going on?”

“You’ve all been to meets before.”

“Yeah, but this is the Olympics.” Jacob made a huge sweeping motion with his arms, almost losing his balance, then laughing at himself with Alex and Bas. After a moment, he added more seriously, “No one wants to let the team down.” The no one was a clear substitution for I, consistent with the concerns he’d expressed to Bas in San Antonio. Those doubts and worries obviously still lingered, because what lay ahead was unknown. But what if it could be known? Or at least simulated? An idea sparked in Bas’s mind that continued to take root as Alex and Jacob chatted.

“We’re just trying to keep our heads down and swim,” Jacob said.

“You’ll let me know if anything changes?”

Jacob stood, saluting. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Leah met him at the bottom of the steps, looping an arm through his. “Saw you giving Terrence some turn tips. Think you might share with us too?”

Jacob grinned at her, cheeks slightly pinked. “Yeah, sure.”

“We’re in the water in ten, Pup,” Bas said. “Don’t get too distracted.”

Jacob shot another smile over his shoulder, as Leah tugged him forward. Bas tracked them all the way around to the other side of the pool, where Jacob jumped in with Leah and several of the other women, a mini-splash fest ensuing.

“You still know what you’re doing there?” Alex asked low.

Bas repeated his answer from San Antonio, “Not doing anything,” even as his memories played like a film reel of contradictions. The tattoo parlor; waking up with Jacob in his arms; watching him sleep every night, the pup’s light snores endearing.

“That look on your face doesn’t say ‘Not doing anything.’”

Bas schooled his blasted features and swung his eyes back to Alex. “I made you a promise. I intend to keep it.”

“Are the two things mutually exclusive?”

Bas lost control of his features again, surprise reigning. Was Alex suggesting what Bas thought he was? “You were there four years ago. You’ve got a medley relay silver in your case at home instead of gold.” He pointed at his chest. “My fault.”

“We were all distracted, Sebastian.”

“Because of what I did. Not doing that again.”

Alex tilted his head, dark eyes searching. “If I’m reading this right, you’ll do anything not to hurt the pup, which worries me almost as much.”

“How about you look after your own first timer, and I’ll look after mine?”

“Yours, huh?”

He’d stepped right into that one. “You baited me, motherfucker.”

Alex lifted a brow, giving him a so-what-if-I-did face that morphed into a soft smile when his wandering gaze landed on Dane.

“How are things going with your first timer?” Bas asked.

“A little unreal still. It’s such a one-eighty.”

No argument there. Dane had gone from repressed and fuming, to competing with Jacob for head cheerleader. Out of the pool, Dane was permanently attached to his boyfriend; he couldn’t keep his hands off Alex. “Maybe he’s making up for lost time.” Ten years of it. “You’re happy?”

“I got what I thought I never would, so yeah, I’m beyond happy.”

“And after Madrid?”

Alex shifted on the bleacher, angling toward Bas. “Been meaning to talk to you about that.” Words that rarely preceded anything good. A knot formed in Bas’s gut. Had he been so stuck in his own head that he’d missed some sign of distress in Alex? Was his best friend’s well-earned happiness already in jeopardy?

Bas couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Once Mom’s done with her chemo and feeling better, Dane and I were considering giving LA a shot, if you think your club would still have us. I miss it out there and swimming with you.”

Warmth expanded in Bas’s chest, dissolving the knot of worry. “I think the club would be more than happy to have you and Big Red.” He slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulders, hugging him. “And so would I.”