He wasn't really sure why he followed her when he saw her heading towards the driveway. After all, he had a party to host, one complete with a several hot girls and and several kegs of good beer. Why would he want to leave to chase after the girl who basically took every opportunity she could to criticize his desire to have a little fun every once in a while?

Truthfully, he felt bad for her. Yes, he thoroughly enjoyed watching her sweat a little, get a little bit uncomfortable, get knocked off the high horse she had been riding since she won Nationals. But even he had a heart. And watching her get reprimanded by her teammates hadn't been nearly as satisfying as he had expected it to be.

Suddenly discovering that he had nearly caught up to her, he realized he didn't know what he was going to say to her or what he was going to do. Maybe he would crack a few jokes, hopefully loosening her up, even making her laugh. Or maybe he would just let her leave and not give her another chance to call him an arrogant ass. However, as soon as she opened her mouth and her voice betrayed the defeat and hurt she was feeling, he knew.

It was as if some new force, some new presence had entered his body. He had the foreign urge to just reach out his arms for her, hold her, assure her that everything would be okay. But that just wasn't something he did. He didn't kindly hug the girls he liked, he made out with them.

Wait, he didn't like her, did he?

Pushing this newfound conflict to the back of his mind, he settled for just offering her some advice. He was in a pretty similar situation himself wasn't he. After all that had happened today, the least he could do was help her out.

Yet as she continued to unload all of her pent-up frustrations and worries in front of him, fighting off that urge of before become more difficult the longer she talked. She was clearly under a type of stress she was sorely unprepared to deal with emotionally. He wanted to do something to make her feel better, something to let her forgot her worries, if only for a short while.

When the tears began to slowly fall from her eyes, he couldn't take it anymore. It actually hurt him to see how visibly upset she was my everything that was going on in her life. In one swift motion he lowered his head towards her, simultaneously lifting her chin, bringing their lips together.

It was the type of kiss he had hardly ever initiated. It was soft, chaste, confident without being aggressive. And although it only lasted a few seconds, it was long enough for him to feel something, something other than the usual lust that accompanied his interactions with women. He felt strangely full, whole, content. He wasn't entirely certain that he liked it, but he was sure he had never experienced anything like it before.

Not wanting to let things get carried away, he broke off the kiss. Looking down, he was relieved to see that she wasn't upset at him. True, she wasn't exactly happy, but she at least looked content, better than before.

As he said goodbye to her and turned to go back to the party, he was shocked by the feeling of emptiness that suddenly filled him.


Damn you Kaylie Cruz.

Austin Tucker woke up with a throbbing heading, a combination of the rather large number of alcoholic beverages he had imbibed yesterday, as well as the hassle of having to deal with the police who had busted his party. Luckily, being an Olympic gold medalist and having a party full of other Olympians had its perks. Like usual, he had been able to maintain his reputation while still avoiding the consequences. Life was good.

Or at least it would have been if a certain dark-haired female gymnast hadn't been haunting his thoughts all night. For God's sake, he had dreamt about her. Multiple times. Austin Tucker doesn't dream about girls, he sleeps with them.

But then again Kaylie Cruz made him want to do a lot of things that he normally wouldn't do around girls.

Like that stupid urge he had had to hug her or whatever last night. What the hell was that? It was no secret to himself, and maybe even others at the gym, that he had her eyes on her since he had started training at the Rock, probably even since he had met her outside the hotel in France. But when he finally got the opportunity, he wanted to blow her mind, not give her some chaste little kiss that married couples of twenty years give each other.

Whatever. He could have dealt with the botched opportunity if not for the utterly foreign feeling of their interaction. What was with that feeling of fullness when they touched and then that sudden feeling of emptiness upon their separation? This girl compelled him to act differently, to feel differently. And he didn't like it. Not one bit. And if he could've just stopped thinking about her, this problem would be irrelevant.

But it wasn't. Because he couldn't stop thinking about her. Every time he stopped to pause, or god forbid, close his eyes, her face was the only thing that he could see. That stupidly beautiful face that even red eyes and tearing running down her checks couldn't ruin. She really was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

Which was clearly was he couldn't get her out of his head. Because despite the large number of attractive women he always seemed to, well, attract, there was rarely someone who he might be remotely interested in that could portray that type of beauty with even trying. And unlike almost every other girl that came into his presence, she didn't throw herself at him. In fact, she always did just the opposite.

So she was just different, that was all. A refreshing change from the norm that one needed every once in a while to break the monotony of a patterned life. But Austin Tucker didn't need different, he didn't need a change.

And anyways, yesterday she had precisely proved why he never got involved with female gymnasts. Too uptight, too serious, too unwilling to bend the rules and live a little while they were still young. Clearly too concerned with their own goals and accomplishments to take the time to have a life. And on top of all that this particular one had a promise ring. A goddamn promise ring. So it wasn't like he would be getting anywhere with her.

Not that he wanted to. He was his own man. He didn't need to bossed around by National Champion Kaylie Cruz.

In fact, he was perfectly content with the way things had been before he'd ever met her. After all, he was young, good looking, and had an Olympic gold medal.

What more could he want?