14. Meggie

14

Meggie

Em: Meet me in the cafeteria ASAP

I yawn and blink at my phone. It's barely six in the morning, but if Em needs me, I'm there. That's just how it is between us.

Careful not to wake up any of the guys, I slip out of the nest, throw on some sweats and head downstairs. There's only one cafeteria in the Olympic Village, situated between the apartment complexes that house each country's athletes. There are a few people up already, a group of gymnasts doing yoga on the grass, a few people running along the river, but it's quieter than it will be later.

The cafeteria also isn't as crowded as normal. I wonder if Em got up this early for breakfast just so she wouldn't have to face as many people, but that asap in her text message makes me think there's more to it than that.

She's sitting at a table in the back corner of the room and waves when she sees me.

There are already enough pastries on the table for us to share. Nothing beats a French croissant.

I clock the fanny pack she's wearing as a crossbody. I'm glad I was a cautionary tale after nearly losing all my shit.

"Alright, what's the emergency?" I pull out the chair next to Em rather than the one across from her.

"I have an ingrown hair." Given the seriousness of her tone, she might as well have just told me she puked on Oz's sneakers.

I give a snorted laugh.

"I'm serious!" She protests. "Multiple! More than one ingrown hairs." Em glances around to make sure we can't be overheard, then drops her voice to a whisper. "Down there."

Reaching for a chocolate croissant, I try to match her energy. "I think we have to amputate, then. A full crotch removal."

With an annoyed huff, Em jerks my croissant out of my hands, licks it, then hands it back.

"Whatever, I'm still eating it." I flash her my biggest smile and take a huge bite.

"They look like crotch pimples!" Her harried whisper sets my lighthearted mood in check. "There will be cameras everywhere!" She lays her head on the table and gives a tortured moan. "Why can't we wear swimsuits like the boys? They can wear a speedo or those full shorts bodysuits."

"Ok, well, let's finish breakfast and then we can fight the patriarchy. I'll add that to our agenda next to Omega rights and free feminine hygiene products."

Raising her head, Em shoots me a sympathetic glance. I wasn't trying to give her any guilt by reminding her of my Omega problems, just that our list against the patriarchy is sizable.

Setting down my pastry, I reach over to hold her hand. "When's your first dive?"

We spend the rest of breakfast discussing tweezers, razors, waxing, heavy concealer, and wearing underpants beneath the stupid regulation skimpy swimsuits.

As we talk, the cafeteria fills up. Two men wearing t-shirts with the green Brazilian flag purposefully walk up to our table. One guy has a buzz-cut and arms that are like mountains. Maybe he's a wrestler? The other is taller with tan skin, like he spends a lot of time in the sun, and long hair that he's got pulled back in a messy knot. He's also got killer quads.

"We are hosting a party tonight. Will you join?" The beefier one hands Em a flier with a flirty smile before he turns his attention to me. "You are with Pack Hart, yes? I am Gabriel. I know Harrison."

"Do you compete tomorrow?" The taller one asks, eyes flicking only momentarily towards me before locking on Em.

"Um, no." Em shifts in her seat, awkwardly twirling her hair. A nervous tick I recognize well. "I don't have my first dive until the end of the week."

"And you?" Gabriel asks me.

I've had our schedule memorized ever since it was first announced. We play five preliminary games this first week, with one already out of the way. Then, the second week, if we make it to the quarterfinals—no, when we make it to the quarterfinals—we'll play one game on Monday. Then the semifinals on Wednesday, and two days later, the final on Saturday.

I know I'm way too cocky for a new Olympian at this sport, but I've been an athlete since primary school and the pulse of competition is a heady drug.

We're all feeling a little more relaxed after beating Serbia yesterday. They took the gold in the last Olympics, so it's great that they were our first match in the preliminary rounds. Get the biggest competition out of the way early.

Em breaks her focus on the guy with the soccer vibes and toned legs to give me her best puppy dog eyes, clearly wanting to go to the party, but not wanting to go alone.

"I've got a game tomorrow, but maybe we'll stop by." I take the flier from her and look it over. It says that everyone needs to wear white, and that makes me curious what they have planned for this party.

"Good. Good." Gabriel says.

The other one smiles quietly at Em before extending his hand. "I am Lucas."

Emily shakes his hand and offers her own name as his smile grows, then he turns to join his friend to hand out a flier at the next table over. Em stares not-so-discreetly at his ass as he walks away. I hide a smile behind my croissant. It's not often she shows so much interest in a man.

"So, you really want to go to this?"

I get why she'd want to. The parties at the Olympics are legendary. I mean, there's a reason they hand out over 300,000 condoms. Personally, I'd rather spend a night in with my alphas. But I won't leave Emily to go on her own if this is what she wants.

"Um, maybe?" She chews on her nail. "I mean, this is part of the experience, right? Going to parties, making memories, and international connections."

Her cheeks turn a bright pink, a sure sign that she's even more interested in that guy than I thought. I pull her into my side for a quick hug. "I'll go, of course I'll go."

"Go where?" Ellis asks, striding over to our table with Dante and Nils.

"A party." I hand him the flier.

Ellis studies the slip of paper as Dante grabs an extra chair from another table and sets it next to me for Ellis. He and Nils take the other two seats, one across from me and the other kitty-corner.

"Rugby or weightlifting?" Dante asks with a cock of his head to the right.

"What?" Emily and I both spin to follow his gaze.

"Guess the sport," Dante explains. "Those two dudes have massive legs. Do you think they're here for rugby or weightlifting?"

Finding the pair he's gesturing to, I can't help but admire their physiques. Honestly, the whole cafeteria is a visual buffet of gorgeous athletes. Sports bras, elastic shorts, slung low sweatpants, and an array of spandex and lycra over ample muscle.

"Alright, alright." Ellis nudges my knee. "You've been looking too long. It's making me jealous."

"Rowing?" Em queries as she sneakily points to a table of ladies with well-defined arms and shoulders. "Beach volleyball?" She gestures to a pair of men thoroughly sun-kissed and in sandals. "Ohhh, they're bonded, too!" Her excited whisper is beyond precious, and I can't stop my own fluttery heart at the sight of the bite marks on the suspected volleyball players.

The rest of my pack soon joins us, all crowded around the four person table, stealing food off each other's plates, and trying to distract ourselves from the stress of our upcoming games. Dante keeps his arm around my shoulder. Oz sits on my other side between Em and me, splitting his attention, but always keeping a hand on my knee, giving my leg little squeezes now and then.

Grabbing my phone, I have us all turn for a group selfie and shoot it off in the group text to my mom and sisters. I send it to Ashleigh with a "gh" too, along with a quick text.