Paris with Love and Gold Medals

Chapter Eight

AS THEY MADE their way out of the arena, Elena could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She could feel a different kind of tension, one that was twisting her stomach into knots.

She turned to Mia, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

"I can't believe you just said that to Ryan. What were you thinking?"

Mia just laughed, a soft, not-so-unapologetic chuckle that made Elena want to bury her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it! It's so obvious that Ryan is really into you, El. Like, seriously. The guy was practically glowing when he saw you."

Elena's heart did a little flip at the thought, but she immediately pushed the feeling down. This was not what she came to Paris for. She was here for one reason-to win gold for the Philippines. She didn't have time to get caught up in some romantic whirlwind, no matter how tempting it was.

"I didn't come all the way to the Olympics to fall in love or... whatever this is," she said, trying to sound firm, though her voice betrayed her. "I'm here to play, to win that gold, not just for me but for our country. I don't have time to entertain these kinds of feelings."

Alex chimed in. "But... he did look pretty into you. And, I mean, come on, El, did you see the way he was looking at you? The guy is head over heels."

Elena opened her mouth to argue, to insist that she wasn't going to let herself get distracted, but before she could say another word, Mia's eyes widened, and she grabbed Elena's arm.

"El, turn around," she whispered, almost breathless.

Elena hesitated but curiosity got the better of her, and she slowly turned around.

There he was. Ryan, walking towards them, his posture was confident yet relaxed, and was wearing a compression shirt that clung to every defined muscle. The shirt emphasized his lean, athletic build, and it was impossible not to notice how the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders and chest.

Elena's mind flashed back to just a few minutes earlier when he was standing there in nothing but his swimming trunks or whatever it was called, water droplets still clinging to his skin, tracing the lines of his chest and abs. The image was so vivid in her mind that it made her catch in her throat. She could almost feel the cool air of the arena, the sounds of the crowd fading into the background as she stared at him now.

Beside her, Mia let out a soft whistle. "How are you even supposed to resist that man, El? He's a total hotshot. I mean, just look at him."

But Elena barely heard her. She was too focused on the way Ryan was walking toward them, the way his eyes found hers and seemed to hold her there as if everything else in the world had faded away. It was like something out of a movie. Except this wasn't a movie. This was real, and it was happening to her.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as if time had slowed to a crawl. She didn't know what to do with her hands, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement she was making. All those thoughts she had moments ago about staying focused, about not letting herself get distracted—they seemed so far away now, lost in the fog of her mind as she watched Ryan approach.

She couldn't tear her gaze away from him, couldn't stop the thoughts racing through her mind. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to keep her focus when he was standing right there, looking at her like that? Jeez.

As Ryan finally reached them, the air seemed to thicken with something she couldn't quite describe, something that made Elena's pulse race even faster. He flashed that easy smile of his, but before he could say anything else, he ran his hand through his still-damp hair.