HOLLIS
“I feel great, Holls.”
“Not tight or anything? You’ve been stretching like I told you? Drinking water, staying away from sweets?”
“Water and stretching for sure.”
“Hollis,” she groans. “You need to stay in prime shape.”
“I am.” I flex my muscles for Holly. In all honesty, I feel better and more prepared than I ever have for the Olympic games. I know Holly has really stepped up my training, which has prepared me to be in the best shape of my life, but I also believe it has a lot to do with Melony. She makes me happy and when I’m happy, I can do anything.
“Eating ice cream isn’t staying in prime shape, Hollis.”
“Ice cream is dairy and according to the food pyramid—”
“Cut the shit.” She laughs. “The food pyramid is a joke for the elite athlete. No more ice cream.”
I tap my finger to my chin in thought. “What about ice cream in the form of a cone rather than a cup. I have to lick it, makes me work harder.”
“No ice cream.”
“What about licking it off a body, like . . . hmm, Melony’s.”
“Ew.” Holly cringes. “No ice cream! God, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk about sex things with me? You’re my twin brother, have you forgotten that?”
I shrug. “We share everything.”
“No, we don’t.” She shivers. “We are done with this conversation.” Moving on she asks, “Have you talked to Mom and Dad?”
“Not really. Are they all packed?”
“Mom got a two-piece.”
“What?” The feeling of my eyes popping out of my head is real. “What do you mean she got a two-piece. Like, shorts and a full bathing suit?”
“No, like a bikini bottom and a bikini top. And to top it off . . . she got Dad a banana hammock.”
“You’re a fucking liar.”
Laughing, she shakes her head as we make it to my car. As I help her get in she says, “I wish I was. She sent me a picture. Dad’s suit literally has a banana on the crotch . . . lying in a hammock. She said they wanted to experience Brazil the right way.”
“By horrifying people?” I ask. I fold up her chair and put it in my trunk before getting in the driver’s side.
“Mom asked if I wanted to get a matching suit. I told her I would rather hang out with the trash pandas lounging on their property, picking through last night’s leftovers.”
“That’s a little rough, but understandable. No one wants to wear matching swimsuits with their mom.”
“Not even a little. Hey, did you catch Rollin’ in the Bacon?”
Christ, my sister and her stupid obsession with this show. “No, when are you going to realize I don’t watch it? You have so much more class than to sit down and watch that shit, sis.”
“I can’t look away. It’s a train wreck. They are only reruns, but I still watch them. Will you watch it when Reese is on?”
Hmm, I never thought about it. A part of me would rather spend the night walking up and down the diving platform stairs than listen to Bellini-the-twit drone on and on about her woes, but another part of me wants to watch just to be able to make fun of Reese. I would bet my left nut there is some incriminating material of him for me to capitalize on. Still, I would have to sit through Bellini to get through it.
“Probably not. Bellini is too much for me.”
“She’s not for everyone.” Isn’t that the fucking truth? “Speaking of Bellini, am I ever going to meet this Melony girl you ditched me for?”
“Yeah about that.” I cringe. More than anything I want Melony to meet Holly. I think they would really get along. Plus Holly is my fucking world and I want my two worlds to collide, but not in an explosive, destructive kind of way. “Not sure when that will happen.”
Looking out the window, I can see Holly nod her head from the corner of my eye. She’s silent for a passing moment before saying, “Are you ashamed of me?” What the fuck?
I nearly drive off the road. “What? Are you insane? Why the hell would I be ashamed of you?”
“Before the accident, you would have introduced me to your girlfriends, but now I’m in a wheelchair—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” I say firmly. “It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
“How so? You don’t even talk to me about your girlfriends anymore. Before I became your coach, you barely talked to me about diving. So what the hell is it, Hollis? Do you feel sorry for me? Is that it? And you don’t want other people to feel sorry for me as well? Because that’s not how I’m living my life, looking for pity from others.”
“I never said that.” I feel panic creep over me. This is not a conversation I want to have with Holly right before I leave for training camp.
Are you ashamed of me?
Fuck, I’m ashamed of myself. I was the one driving, the one who foolishly looked at his phone, the one who ran into a tree, the one who ended my sister’s career.
I’m. So. Fucking. Ashamed.
“Then what is it, Hollis?”
The drive to her place is faster than expected, and I’m pulling into her parking lot when she turns to me looking for answers. Knowing she won’t even consider getting out of my car without an explanation, I capitulate.
I lean back in my chair and run my hands over my face. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.
“I’m not ashamed of you, Holly. Shit, I’m so damn proud of you and the way you’ve risen from the fall I caused for you. I’m . . . ashamed of myself. I feel so guilty for the loss I’ve caused you, it’s tearing me up inside. It’s not that I don’t want Melony to meet you, it’s that I don’t want her to know the kind of monster I am.”
A gentle touch grips my forearm, pulling my hand away from yanking on my hair. Holly nudges me to look at her. Like a dickhead, I have tears in my eyes. So much regret sits on my shoulders, weighs heavily on my chest, it’s fucking crippling at times.
“You’re not a monster, Hollis. You made a mistake.”
“That wasn’t a mistake. You don’t call destroying someone’s life a mistake.”
“Is that what you think you did?” She forces me to look at her, and her crystal-blue eyes meet mine. “You think you destroyed my life?”
I swallow hard, tamping down the raw agony I feel. “Of course I do. I took away your diving career, your passion, everything you ever worked for.”
“You didn’t take away anything, Hollis. We were in an accident. I lost the ability to walk, but that didn’t destroy my life, it just put me on a different path to success.” Turning away, she shakes her head. “What do you think I’ve been doing while you’ve been training? Sitting around, reminiscing on the days I could walk? Fuck you if you think that’s true.” I’m caught off guard by her tone and aggression. “I might have lost my ability to walk but I didn’t lose my heart or my drive. I didn’t lose my will to reach my goals, my new goals. While you’ve been pitying me, I’ve been making something of myself, becoming a role model for others in my position, booking speaking engagements, being a model of hope.”
This is new information to me. “Wait, what?”
Now she punches me in the shoulder. “You’re such a dick. You’ve seriously pitied me this whole time? Well, fuck you.” She punches me again, this time I soothe my arm with my hand. She has muscly arms.
“Hey, stop that. I didn’t pity you, I just . . .”
Fuck, I pitied her.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re an asshole.”
Frustrated with this entire conversation, I say, “I’m sorry, Holly. Fuck, I am an asshole. I thought I’d taken away everything. I didn’t know . . . why didn’t you tell me you had so much more going on?”
“Because you just started talking to me about diving again. You haven’t been very approachable.”
“I couldn’t look at you.” The words taste bitter as they come out of my mouth. It’s the painful truth, but every time I glanced at Holly wheeling herself around, it was a steadfast reminder of what I’d done. “I’ve felt so damn guilty.”
She nods pensively. “I can understand that. I’m not going to downplay your emotions over what happened. It was traumatic for everyone, but I need you to understand something, Hollis. I’ve never blamed you for anything that happened. Yes, I was incredibly depressed for a while because my life had changed. What had been my goals were no longer possible. And for a while, that was really hard. I was in a dark place. But I’ve never once thought you took something away from me. In time I could see that this was how my life was supposed to be, and you know what? I’m happy. What I do is rewarding. I feel more fulfilled now, helping others through the same kind of trauma, than I did standing on a podium with a medal around my neck. Diving was for me, but public speaking is for others.” Holy fuck, my sister is incredible.
“You’re happy?” I shyly ask, wondering where my sister gets the strength to be so damn amazing.
“I am. So I think it’s time you forgive yourself and move on. You’re the only one blaming yourself for what happened. It’s time to let go.”
“But what if Melony asks what happened?”
“Tell her the truth,” Holly says simply. “You were a dumb kid who made a dumb mistake. You’ve paid for that mistake over time with guilt and regret. You’ve suffered and learned from it, and you’ve paid the penance you felt you deserved. Simple as that. She can’t hate you for something you did years ago. I don’t hate you, so what makes you think she will?”
“She has a hard time trusting men,” I answer.
With a serious face, but sarcastic undertones, Holly asks, “So you think hiding the truth from her about your sister is going to help with that situation? Wow, when did you become a dumbass?”
Shit, she’s right. Now that my blockhead of a brain thinks about it, not telling Melony is worse than trying to sacrifice the image she has of me that’s barely hanging on by a thread. Well, that’s not true; my image might be a little more beefed up than a week ago thanks to my awesome fucking and romanticizing skills.
“Fuck, Holly.” I lean my head against the car seat. “Why did I make this so difficult?”
“Because, in the accident, they actually removed your balls.”
“That’s why it’s so airy down there,” I counter with a smile.
Smiling back, she leans over and hugs me with one arm. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. Drop the guilt, be happy for me, and bring Melony around so we can meet her. It’s time I get to embarrass you and tell her all the times you tried to tuck your wee wee between your legs so you could be just like me.”
“And you just lost all visiting privileges with her.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it. Now fetch my chariot, peasant, I have things to do.”
***
“How can you eat such crap food and have an amazing body?”
I bite into my third piece of pizza, loving the way the cheese melts in my mouth. Holly would just about kill me right now, so it’s a good thing the next few weeks will consist of a complete detox before the games start. Looking forward to gnawing on celery twenty-four/seven. Not.
“Fat is scared of me; it’s heard I shred it, so it doesn’t even bother sticking around.” I wink.
She shakes her head in amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Changing the subject, she asks, “Are you excited to go to Rio?”
“I’m excited to see you in a bikini on the beaches in Rio. There are topless beaches there. I’ll go topless if you go topless.”
She laughs, that fucking sweet-as-hell sound. “You’re always topless.”
I shrug, “I’m a bit of a whore like that. Glad you don’t leave me for my provocative nature.”
“You should be glad I don’t leave you for being a smart-ass.”
“What?” I feign horror. “And here I thought women like smart men. Well there goes that college education down the drain. Thanks, society, for steering me wrong.”
“Do you always have a comeback stored up in you?”
“I always have come stored up in me, yes. Want to help me get rid of some of it?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
“I can’t stand you.” She laughs as I grab her waist and place her on my lap. Taking both of our pizzas, I set them on the coffee table in front of me.
She’s straddling my lap, her humor-filled eyes beating down on me, her tank top loose and billowing away from her chest, giving me an amazing view of her breasts.
“You know, you shouldn’t say hurtful things to the man that delivers such powerful orgasms you cry for hours afterward.”
“I don’t cry,” she counters.
“Oh, then it must have been your pussy weeping.”
“Yeah, because she hates having to fake the fact that your cock just isn’t big enough for her.” Mouthy, I like it.
“Baby, if you’re faking it, I will go over to Meryl Streep’s house right now and steal one of her Oscars for you, because that is some award-winning performance.”
She starts to get off me. “Better get going. I would like the Oscar she won for Sophie’s Choice.”
“Fuck that.” I pull her back on my lap and grip her hips. “I guess I’ll just have to fuck you better.”
Her eyes light up with intrigue. I know for a fucking fact she’s not faking it, but if she wants to play this game, I have no problem making her little lie a living nightmare.
Let’s play a little game called edging.
Holding her close to me, I lift both of us off the couch and work my way back to her bedroom while she giggles into my ear from the kisses I’m peppering on her neck. This woman was so closed off, so anti everything I’ve been living my life for, and for once, I see the lightness in her features. It’s refreshing, heart-warming, fucking fantastic.
When we get to her bedroom, I toss her on the bed and take no time getting rid of my shirt. My muscles flex for her as I drop my shirt to the floor. Her eyes roam my body, her tongue wetting her lips in the most delicious way possible.
“Take your shirt off, baby.” Following directions, she does as asked. “Your shorts too, I want to see you completely naked.” I don’t even have to ask her to remove her underwear because I know she’s not wearing any.
Once she’s naked, I slip my phone out of my pocket, go to my Spotify app and select the perfect song for what I have planned.
Not pressing play yet, I set my phone on her nightstand and walk over to her little desk where I take the chair and put it in the middle of the room.
“Are you expecting a lap dance?” she asks, her voice a playful sneer.
“No.” I point at the chair. “Sit.”
“What are you going to do to me?” She crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts.
Her defiant attitude is not appreciated at the moment. “Sit in the chair, Melony,” I say with a forceful voice. Her eyebrows lift in surprise, yet to my shock, she listens. Note to self, she pays attention to my commanding-Hollis voice.
“Keep your legs closed, I don’t want to see that pussy until I’m ready.”
Turning my back to her, I let me shorts ride low on my hips, knowing fully well I’m not wearing underwear either, and with the press of the button, a remix of Pony by Ginuwine starts to play.
Time for Melony to learn a little something about myself: I love to dance . . .