Riding the Board, page 1
Riding the Board
Cate Ashwood
Synchronized diver Blake Emmrich has one goal: to make it to the Olympics. When his diving partner suffers a nearly fatal injury, Blake is devastated and walks away from everything he’d worked so hard for. Two months later, though, his coach finds him a replacement partner in an attempt to coax him back into the water. The only problem? His new partner is Nick Freeman.
Despite his reputation for being cocky and impossible to work with, their coach thinks Nick would be the perfect match for Blake. Too bad the two can’t seem to get it together long enough to find out. Desperate, their coach hatches a plan that leaves them handcuffed together for a full week.
Will the scheme to get them in sync take them to Rio, or will they be riding the board on their own?
Riding the Board
Published by Cate Ashwood © 2016, Cate Ashwood
Edited by Sandra Depukat at One Love Editing http://oneloveediting.com/
This is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
All rights reserved worldwide. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
Content warning: Contains graphic language and sexual content. Not intended for anyone under the age of eighteen.
Chapter One
The rain pelted down sideways, almost completely soaking through Blake Emmrich’s jacket and T-shirt by the time he reached the front entrance to the aquatic center. Two months ago, a little rain wouldn’t have mattered. He’d spent most of his time with wrinkled fingertips and water in his ears anyway. Back then, a normal day in Blake’s life would have included the short walk to the pool before the sun started to peek over the mountains, and then hours of dives until he was too mentally and physically exhausted to push any longer.
He missed the water, but until now, he hadn’t felt ready to get back into it.
He pulled open the glass doors and walked across the pale floors toward the pool deck. Although he hadn’t set foot in the building since two days before his last competition, his body moved forward without conscious thought. After running through the same routine day after day for the past sixteen years, some habits just couldn’t be broken.
The smell of chlorine was barely detectible to him, even now as he entered the pool area, but he breathed deep anyway, pulling the faint scent into his lungs. Wearing shoes on the tiled floor felt foreign, but the echoing splashes sounded like home.
When he wasn’t traveling, this building was his home, his apartment merely a place to pass out during the hours between dives.
He walked along the edge of the shallow end and bent down, trailing his fingers in the water. It was cooler than he remembered, and he briefly wondered if there was anything else about his normal routine that would feel strange. Two months was a long time to be away. Blake wasn’t sure how much time it would take before he could pick up from where he left off.
He turned right toward the bank of coaches’ offices that lined the back of the center. He stopped at the second to last door and pushed it open. Alexandre Moreau hunched forward, staring at his computer screen as though he was attempting to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphs.
“Hi,” Blake said, sitting down in the low green chair across from Alex’s desk. He clamped his hands in his lap and waited for his coach to speak. Things had been strained between them since Blake had announced he would be taking the year off. Alex had tried to convince him otherwise, insisting he needed to keep up with his training if he wanted to have any hopes of qualifying for the 2016 Olympics in Brazil.
Blake hadn’t seen much point after the incident at Nationals in March. He shuddered, the memory he’d succeeded in pushing away since it happened now bursting through and making him feel heavy and mildly nauseated.
“Allô, Lou,” Alex said, his nickname for Blake falling softly between them. “Thank you for coming in to meet with me this morning.”
Blake took a deep breath to calm himself, the same technique he applied before diving at major competitions. “I told you on the phone that I haven’t changed my mind about taking some time off. I’m not ready to come back, and even if I was, I still have no partner.”
Alex leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the desk. “That is one of the things I wanted to discuss with you, and I want you to hear me out before you say no. There are still two months left until the second Nationals competition. If you pick up your training, we can have you ready in time for the qualifiers—”
Blake sighed. “With all due respect, we’ve talked about this before. I am not interested in competing individually. I’m a synchro diver. You know that.”
“You’d think you were the one that hit your head, petite loutre. You need to listen,” Alex said, the fluidity of his accent erased by the sternness of his voice.
Blake winced, the blow softened by the term of endearment, but his coach’s admonishment sounded harsh nonetheless. He fidgeted in his seat but remained quiet, waiting for Alex to continue.
“I’ve found you a partner—one of the best in the country. He’s been solely an individual competitor until now, but agrees that expanding his events would be a good move career-wise. He’s coming to meet with you today, and I want you to try—just try—for a week. If you still say no after that, it’s your decision, and I promise I will stop pushing you. D’accord?”
Blake nodded obediently and kept his objections to himself. It was useless to argue with Alex. Calling the man stubborn was akin to referring to Niagara Falls as a puddle.
“Good. Now go get undressed and warmed up. He’ll be here in—” He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. “—half an hour.” Alex turned back to the paperwork on his desk, making little grunting noises as he checked things off. Blake figured he had been dismissed. He absently wondered who the diver was, but he supposed it wouldn’t be long until he found out.
He rose, crossing the pool deck and entering the dressing room. He opened the combination lock with three quick twists of the knob and pulled open his locker. He hadn’t used it since before the last competition, but he always kept a couple of extra suits in there. He stripped off, sliding the tight material up his legs, and stretched out, wiggling everything into place before stepping into the shower for a quick rinse.
Alex was still in his office by the time he’d finished. Blake figured there was no sense in putting it off any longer and walked over to the edge of the deepest end of the pool. He curled his toes around the edge, shivering when the water lapped at them. He hadn’t been in the pool since Patrick’s accident. He’d been afraid that his love for the water had been tarnished by what had happened that day, but now that he was this close, he felt the pull as though the water had its own gravitational field. He took a deep breath and stepped off the ledge. The cool water enveloped him, drawing him under, and then supported him as he floated to the surface.
He swam a couple of easy laps to get used to the feeling and to warm up muscles that hadn’t been used in far too long. He did some quick stretches underwater and then propelled himself up and out of the pool. As the minutes passed, the love for the water ignited in him again. It was like being reunited with a long-lost lover, or at least he assumed that was what it would feel like—a moment of hesitation followed by blooming love in his chest. He was anxious to get back on the board, to feel the taut spring of the plank under his toes as he powered himself up and into position.
He climbed to the three-meter board and walked out onto the edge, the bounce as he walked making the blood in his veins sing. He stepped right to the end and turned around, balancing his body over his toes. He brought his arms up and out to the side, shifting his weight to spring a little, testing out the resistance and position of the fulcrum beneath him. Blake breathed in deep, feeling the air expand in his chest before bending his knees and pushing down against the board. It gave way, that familiar bend of aluminum, and whipped him up into the air. He lifted his hips and brought his legs to his chest into a perfect pike position before stretching back out and entering the water.
It was a simple dive—one of the first he’d learned—but it felt indescribably good to be flying again. In fact, he hadn’t felt this good since the morning of the competition. Blake hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this. Maybe Alex was right. Maybe it was time to pick himself back up, dust himself off, and soar.
Blake surfaced and pulled himself back up and out again, the water cascading off him and running into the grates that edged the pool. He was amping himself back up for round two when he heard Alex call his name. Turning, he watched the last person he expected to see sauntering out across the deck.
Nick Freeman.
Chapter Two
Saunter really was the only way to describe the way Nick walked. Dressed in a teeny tiny purple Speedo with a towel draped around his neck, his hair perfectly messy in that whole this-looks-effortless-but-I-spent-an-hour-in-front-of-the-mirror way, Nick looked like he was expecting to sign autographs from screaming fans rather than work his ass off in a practice.
“Lou, I think you know Nick Freeman. Nick, this is Blake Emmrich.”
There was no need for introductions. They’d met before at competitions, but they’d never actually spoken. Nick was a stuck-up prick who thought he walked on water rather than dived into it. He had a reputation for refusing to talk to the other divers at competitions, one that Blake had experienced firsthand.
Blake tried to keep the disgusted scowl off his face as he stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. Nick smiled his perfect toothpaste-commercial smile, taking Blake’s hand in his and shaking firmly. Blake wanted to rip his hand away but gathered his willpower instead in an attempt to be polite.
“All right, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get to work. Nick, are you warmed up?”
Seriously? Clearly Alex had lost his mind sometime in the two months since they’d worked together last. There was no way he thought Nick would make a suitable partner.
“Yep. All ready to go,” Nick declared.
“Good. We’ll start easy. Up to the ten meter, and I want to see an inward three and a half somersault with tuck. Lou, you count it off. Got it?”
“Uh, actually, Alex, could I speak to you for a moment?” Blake asked.
A flash of annoyance blanketed his features, but he nodded. “Of course. Nick, why don’t you do a couple of test dives to get started, yes? This won’t take but a minute.”
“You bet,” Nick replied before walking off toward the tower, his hips swaying a little with each step. Blake resisted the urge to scoff. He turned his attention to his coach, who watched him intently.
“What’s the matter, Lou?” Alex asked.
“You didn’t tell me it was Nick Freeman.”
“I told you one of the best divers in the country was coming in. Nick is one of the best. Is that a problem?”
“I think it is. He’s a total dick.”
“Maybe he is, but does that affect his ability to dive well?”
“No, but it does affect his ability to be a good partner,” Blake challenged.
“You’ve never tried. How do you know? I’m asking you to work with him. It’s only a week. I will keep my promise. If after this week, you’re still not happy, I won’t push you. You can take as much time off as you want, skip Nationals, derail all the hard work you and Patrick put in to get you where you are.”
Blake felt like a petulant child. Alex was right. Blake hated when that happened. His coach knew him better than anyone, and he’d never done anything but support and guide him. Alex had gotten him as far as he was and he had to trust that he knew what he was doing.
Yeah, Nick was an asshole, but Blake could rise above it. He could be professional. It was only a week. He was doing this for Alex, not Nick. He would be civil for the time that Nick was there, but there was no way he was going to partner with him permanently. Maybe Alex just needed to see for himself that this insane little plan of his would never work.
“Fine. I’ll give it my best shot for a week.”
“Good, now if you think we’ve wasted enough time, let’s get started with the actual diving.”
He turned just in time to see Nick leap from the tower. Blake had seen him dive before, but he’d been in competition himself so he’d never truly taken the time to watch. As much as Blake hated to admit it, Nick was beautiful when he dived. His muscles moved like fluid beneath his skin, contracting then elongating as he twisted his body and kicked out for his entry. The entire sequence only lasted a couple of seconds, but Blake was in awe at the seamless technique.
He watched Nick surface, wiping the water from his face as he reached the side of the pool and pulled himself out.
“Ready to go?” Nick asked, turning without waiting for Blake’s answer.
The spell that Nick cast in the air had been broken the moment he’d opened his mouth, and now Blake was annoyed once again. He turned and grudgingly climbed the stairs behind Nick, trying very hard not to notice how nicely his ass filled out his suit. He was pissed off at himself for even sneaking a look. Now was not the time to be scoping out guys, and Nick Freeman’s ass was the last ass he should be looking at. Not that his dick knew the difference.
Nick was standing at the edge of the platform with his hands resting on his slim hips when Blake walked up behind him. He turned, cocking one eyebrow. “Ready for this, Lou?” he asked, his tone mocking.
“Don’t call me that,” Blake said through gritted teeth. No one but Alex called him that. He knew his words would likely have no effect. Nick was too conceited to be concerned about anyone but himself. He didn’t care about the sport, the discipline, or good sportsmanship; all he cared about was fame and winning. It was a well-known fact.
“Why not?” Nick said, intentionally badgering him. “What’s it short for—Lucy? Because you dive like a girl?”
“Fuck you, Freeman,” Blake spat. “That’s the best insult you could come up with? Danielle Bertrand outscored you in the last three competitions. In fact, I’d be willing to bet the entire women’s team could outdive you, and so could I. You’re a shitty diver with nonexistent technique and a bad attitude.” It wasn’t true. Well, the technique part wasn’t true anyways. That was the most infuriating thing. For all the posturing and bragging Nick did, he had the skills to back it up. Blake wasn’t lying about the attitude, though.
“So you’ve been keeping track of my scores…” Nick winked at him, and Blake rolled his eyes.
“That’s what you took away from that?”
“Let’s go, then,” Nick said. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Blake nodded and stepped forward until he was even with Nick on the platform. He looked Nick up and down, noting the slight difference in their heights. “Have you done synchro dives before?” Blake asked.
“Nope, but how hard can it be, right? One, two, three, and then I jump. I got this.”
Blake snorted quietly but reserved comment. He turned around, balancing himself backward on the balls of his feet. He glanced over at Nick to make sure he was prepared and ready to go before he counted them off. “One, two, three, go…”
He jumped, pitching himself forward and curling himself into the tuck position. He counted the rotations and straightened out, stretching his arms above his head and flexing his hands to break the water for the rip entry. He knew they were off. He could feel Nick enter the water behind him. Alex wouldn’t be happy. If he and Patrick had performed a dive like that, they’d have gotten an earful.
He surfaced and swam the few strokes over to the side of the pool and waited. He knew Alex would have something to say before he instructed them to try again. Nick swam up beside him, shaking his head but keeping quiet.
“Not too bad,” Alex said. Blake’s eyebrows shot up. That was the easiest dive in his program and they’d been way off. He expected much worse than “not too bad.”
“There were some issues with timing, but you both have good technique and that’s the biggest hurdle.” Nick glared at Blake, an I-told-ya-so expression on his face at Alex’s praise. “Now you just need to learn each other’s movements. It’s not called ‘synchronized’ for nothing. You need to be complètement ensemble—totally together—and not only once your feet leave the platform. It takes time, but you’ll get it. Again,” Alex commanded.
They climbed back up to the ten-meter platform, Blake making sure he went first this time. He was becoming more infuriated by the minute with having to work with this asshole. The less time he had to spend looking at him, the easier it would be to get through the rest of practice. Surely by the end of it Alex would see that they were as incompatible as cats and water.
He waited for Nick to get to the top of the tower before positioning himself at the edge of the platform. “Are you ready?” Blake asked.
“I was born ready. Try not to fuck it up this time.”
“Me fuck it up? You’ve got to be shitting me. You were all over the place.”
“Not my fault that you jump like a nine-year-old girl, Lucy. Try to get some height on your takeoff and maybe you won’t hit the water too soon.”
Blake stared at him with his mouth hanging open. He couldn’t believe this guy.
