Burnout (The Holland Brothers Book 1)

We travel to Lakeshore College for our exhibition meet on Saturday. It’s less than two hours away so we take a chartered bus, arriving early to warm up and prepare.

Nearly all college meets are held on the host team’s university basketball court. Mats and all the special flooring needed for the events are placed on top of the hardwood floor and the equipment is placed in the four corners of the gym.

The size and setup are always so similar that it should make it feel more like home, but everything is different. The spring floor is green instead of blue and feels harder than the one I’m used to, and the beam is cold and unfamiliar as I run a hand along it before I warm up.

I’m an all-around gymnast, usually competing in all four events for Valley U, but today Coach Weaver has me only on beam. I try not to let that mess with my head. I know she’s giving me an opportunity to get back into things without overwhelming me at a meet that doesn’t matter in our overall season standings, but that constant worry nags at me that I’ll never climb my way back to where I was before my injury.

As my teammates and I stretch, I block everything else out and visualize the routine, imagining myself flawlessly executing every movement.

Beam is our last rotation today, so I cheer on my teammates on vault, floor, and bars. Upbeat music plays over the speakers and there’s an energy that hums in the air. Even when it’s hard and my future is uncertain, I can’t imagine giving this up.

A fresh wave of nerves rolls over me when we finally make it to beam. I peel off my warmup pants and jacket and stand on the sidelines. I’m in the anchor position so I have a little time before it’s my turn. More time. I feel like I’ve been waiting an eternity.

In my bag, I dig out my phone and reopen the text Knox sent earlier.

Knox

Good luck today even though you don’t need it. You’ve got this. Text me after. x

That little x makes my heart flutter. Knox isn’t really a hugs and kisses kind of guy. He’s been clear about what he wants, hanging out and hooking up. But we’ve been spending so much time together the lines have blurred. I know he likes me beyond hooking up, but that could just be friendship on top of sex. Is it possible he’s falling for me like I am him?

The guys’ team isn’t competing today, but a few of them drove up to watch. Tristan walks over in his Valley blue warmup pants with a gray T-shirt.

“You ready for this, Ollie?”

“If I’m not, are you going to give me a rousing pep talk?” I ask dryly.

“Would you listen if I did?” One side of his mouth lifts and I feel some of the tension in my shoulders relax.

He’s been distant since the night of the pajama party and I’m not sure if it’s because he finally realized I’m not going to make out with him again or if I’m finally practicing hard enough that he decided to stop holding it against me.

“No, probably not.”

He holds out a fist and I tap my knuckles against his.

“Kill it, Ollie.”

When it’s finally my turn, I walk to the beam like I’ve done a million times. I lift my hands over my head and smile at the judges, then turn and mount the beam. Sitting on it with my legs dangling on either side, I arch back and let my head graze the beam before sitting up and getting to my feet. My hands scoop down and then with my feet pointed, I walk to the middle of the beam and do my first full turn.

Because we switched the difficulty level of my dismount, the starting value of my beam routine is only a 9.9. That means I really do need to kill it.

My hands move gracefully as I move to the other end now, standing sideways and facing the judges while smiling like this is no big deal. And that’s how I feel. In this moment I am invincible. It’s a fleeting feeling. It happens so quickly I almost don’t recognize it.

A half turn on my toes places me back into position for my first combination. Side aerial layout step out. My heart soars with excitement and pride, but I don’t acknowledge it yet. I shove it down with my other feelings and focus on the next forty seconds of my routine.

My only thoughts are about execution. Not just in the technical skills but in my dance movements as well. Practiced grace on top of precision is the goal. I land my final cartwheel and then Gainer dismount with my chest high.

Relief like I’ve never felt washes over me as the world around me comes back into focus. I raise my hands for the judges and then jog off to a smiling Coach Weaver. She’s a force in practice, but on competition days she’s our biggest cheerleader.

“Fantastic job, Avery. Your final combination was perfection.”

“I wobbled a little on the half turn.”

She shakes her head like it doesn’t matter, but it will in my final score. “Today, you proved that you’re back and ready to dominate beam like you were meant to do.”

She releases me as my teammates come over to congratulate me. High fives and hugs. Tristan doesn’t approach, but he tips his head to me.

My final score is 9.825. I try not to be disappointed. I know it was a good first routine of the season, but I’m already wanting to get back up there and work on my turns and switch out my dismount.

I’m also dying to text Knox and my family, but I know I need to celebrate with my team so I wait until we’re on the bus headed back to Valley.

Me

Your girl is heading home with some bling.

I second-guess the phrase “your girl” and hope he reads it in the playful tone I meant it. His reply is almost instant.

Knox

Congrats! Knew you could do it.

Me

Thanks. How’s Flagstaff?

Knox

Not bad. Looks like we’re staying tonight though so I won’t get to congratulate you in person until tomorrow.

Me

Bummer, I guess I’ll have to entertain myself.

Knox

Only til tomorrow. Gotta make some adjustments to my bike before tonight. Go celebrate with Quinn. I’m sure she’s dying to take you to some party.

That does sound like Quinn.

Me

Okay. Good luck with your double nac four sixty

And to Quinn…

Me

We’re on our way back. I got third place on beam!

Quinn

My bestie is a badass! Congrats. What time will you be here? Colter and Knox aren’t getting back until tomorrow.

Me

I’ll be there in about two hours.

Quinn

Putting my party pants on!

Me

About that…how do you feel about celebrating in Flagstaff?

It takes basically no convincing on my part to get Quinn to agree to surprise the guys by driving up to Flagstaff.

We turn up the music in my Bronco and sing nonstop for the three hours it takes to get there. We arrive a little after the event has started. Quinn gets us seats and I weave through the crowd, trying to get as close to the back as I can to see if I can spot Knox.

I know from watching him practice, and him and Colter talking about the show that Knox doesn’t ride in the first half. The other riders have a series of jumps that are more technical and he helps in the back until it’s time for him to go out.

I can see where the riders are disappearing out a side gate when their turns are over, so I walk that way. Lucky for me, there isn’t anyone to stop me. I guess they aren’t worried about superfans getting back here, although the way some of the girls are dressed up for this event, I think they maybe should be. I feel a spark of jealousy at the thought of one of them hitting on Knox.

My smile widens when the man I’m looking for comes into view. He’s sitting on his bike watching the event just out of sight from the crowd. He glances in my direction as I get to the last fence that separates us. He does an actual double take and then a wide grin splits his face.

My heart leaps out of my chest as he gets off his bike and walks toward me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, linking his fingers through the fence around mine.

“I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to celebrate with you.”

His smile is crooked and sexy. He removes his gaze from mine and searches down the fence. He walks to a shorter section and hops over to me. He’s decked out in his riding gear, black jacket, black pants, black boots. Nobody should be able to make a single color look this good.

Knox’s arms immediately wrap around my hips and he picks me up. I drape myself around him and kiss him. Or really, I should say I do my best to kiss him back. He’s got full control of it and I’m just along for the ride.

His hands slide up the back of my shirt and then his fingers tangle in my hair.

“Missed this mouth,” he rasps.

His words feel almost as reaffirming as nailing my beam routine did.

My mouth is tender when he finally pulls back. He gives my bottom lip one final nip. “I better get back before I miss my signal.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

He shakes his head as he walks off. “Don’t need it now that you’re here.”