Gym Rats - Jackson Olson x OC

39

Jackson's POV

I'm sitting in Cecelia's room, waiting for her to finish up in the shower. Her suitcases were literally dropped on the floor, and all she cared about was taking a shower in her own shower. I'm spending the night tonight, which I know means we're going straight to bed, but I played a game earlier today (it's Sunday), so I'm plenty tired too.

I move to the floor and open her suitcases to see her clothes in one, and all of the memorabilia she brought back in the other. I'm not snooping, she said I was allowed to look, but I just can't open the medal boxes yet.

Once it was revealed on the Today show that we are an item, I got a billion messages from friends about how much they loved watching Cecelia. I still can't get the picture out of my head of her breaking that world record, crying on the podium. It was truly poetic. From what I'm seeing on social media, everyone has fallen in love with her. Why wouldn't they? She showed just how human these athletes are, her reactions alone will be remembered for a lifetime.

Cecelia walks back in the room in my bananas shirt and a pair of fuzzy shorts, her wet hair up in a bun. I smile at her as she sits down in my lap, facing me. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, gently squeezing her.

"How are you doing, pretty girl? Did that shower feel good?"

I feel Cecelia's head nod as I chuckle, now squeezing her even tighter. She giggles a bit as I let go of her, and she lets go of me to.

"Show me your medals," I tell her, and she turns around, still staying on my lap, to dig out the two medal boxes from her suitcase. She gets off of my lap and sets the box in my hands, carefully undoing the first box to reveal her silver medal. The gold medal box, she undoes herself. I look at the medal, it's so shiny, with the Olympic logo on one side. I don't want to touch it without her permission. She takes her gold medal out of the box, putting it over her own neck.

"Take the silver one out," she says, to which I do so ever so gently. I hold it in my hands, it has a ton of weight on it. I flip it over to see the Paris logo on the piece of the Eiffel Tower. It's so amazing. I wouldn't dare to put it around my neck. It's hers.

"This is awesome," I say, scooting closer to Cecelia and putting the silver medal around her neck. I am still in awe that I am dating an Olympic gold and silver medalist. She's way out of my league. Cecelia smiles proudly, holding one of the medals in each of her hands. "Can I take a picture of you?" I ask.

"Of course."

I take my phone out of my pocket and scoot back, taking a picture of Cecilia proudly holding her medals. She had a ton of professional photos done in Paris, and I think I have every one of them saved to my camera roll, but this one is special.

"Can I post it?"

"Yes."

I shift over to her to show her my phone screen and what I'm going to post. A simple Instagram story, with Cecelia sitting crisscrossed on the floor, holding up her medals. I put 'Olympic gold and silver medalist in being a bananas fan'

"Cute, but needs work," she says, before taking my phone and editing it to 'Silver medalist in being a bananas fan and gold medalist in being a Jackson Olson fan'.

She hands my phone back to me. I laugh at the caption, "You're too cute," I say as I put her Instagram handle on the picture before posting it. With that, Cecelia gently puts her medals away in the boxes. If I know anything about Cecelia, I know she will take great care of them. But, the boxes go back in the suitcase for the time being as we both get off of the floor and into her bed. I take Cecelia back in my arms.

"Did you really mean what you said at the airport?" She asks me, looking up at me as she now lays on my chest.

"Of course I do," I respond quickly, "Why would I lie to you?"

"It just doesn't feel real to me, that you said it."

"Cecelia, you don't even feel real to me. How did I end up dating an Olympic champion? I'd even argue that you're out of my league. Regardless, I do love you Cecelia. I love how devoted you are to your training and to your sport, I love your competitive flame. I love your relationship with Lola and your parents and the kids you coach. You're something I've never seen before, Cecelia. And I love every bit of it."

I watch as she attempts to dig her head deeper into my chest, her body fully relaxing into mine, "Your words are like magic to me," she tells me, "I love you so much Jackson. Just the way you support me and push me the right way. You bring all of that good stuff you just said out of me."

"I'm glad I can be the spark to your flame," I say, "And I just get the perks of holding Olympic medals and having the best gym partner of all time."

She laughs, "You're adorable, Jackson."

"Stealing my words now, are we? I say that to you!"

"Womp womp. You gotta let me do whatever I want. I am an Olympic medalist after all."

I laugh at this side of her, the one that knows she can get what she wants. I like it when she brags, but she only does it around people she's comfortable with. She would never show off in front of a stranger. "You're right, I can't say no to an Olympian."