I looked over my shoulder at the brunette peacefully breathing on the pillow. There was a tattoo of a butterfly on her shoulder blade I hadn’t noticed last night. It had bright blue wings and something written in Portuguese along the side. I rubbed the top of my head. Shit. What was her name? What was her sport?

I couldn’t remember if she said she played soccer or field hockey. Whatever it was, she was hot as shit. Her long tanned legs reached the end of my bed.

She stirred slightly and I hopped up to get dressed. I didn’t have much time before Scott would bang on the door. He was never late for anything.

He didn’t stay in the village with the other athletes. Reyna insisted he stay with her in a hotel. He was missing out. This place was fucking insane. The women were unreal.

But what did he know about women anymore? He was married. We didn’t party together. We didn’t trade stories over breakfast. There were no more epic nights that ended up in the headlines. Those days of Miller-Lauer were over.

And they had been the stuff beach volley ballers dreamed of. It wasn’t easy to find a partnership on and off the sand, but Scott and I had—until Reyna.

Now the only time we were together was on the court. Practices. Matches. Press. My best friend was still around, but I barely recognized him anymore. Reyna had changed everything—and because of that I vowed never to let a woman get under my skin the way Scott had. Never.

The girl I had met last night at the village lounge sighed before her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me.

“I have to get going,” I explained. “I have a match.”

This kind of thing happened all the time in the village. It wasn’t as if she would be looking for something other than what we had last night. It was a pretty sweet gig hooking up with girls here. They had no expectations. Sex was sex. Exactly as it should be. No strings. Nothing but one amazing fuck after another.

What I’d heard about the Olympics was true. It was one big party, starting with the Opening Ceremonies.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, leaving her to sleep for a few more minutes before I kicked her out. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. The mirror was almost too short. With so many athletes here, you’d think the designers would have designed the rooms for guys who were six-five and two-twenty. I stooped to get a full picture of my face.

Yesterday’s practice had been shitty. The wind had carried every ball I had served out of bounds. It didn’t make my confidence rock solid going into today’s first round of the tournament. We didn’t come to Rio de Janeiro for silver or bronze. We were here for gold. Only gold.

I ran my fingers through my hair and met the brunette on the other side of the door. She had wrapped the sheet around her chest, covering up that gorgeous body of hers.

She scooted past me into the bathroom just as Scott pounded on the door.

“Pierce, come on. Open up.”

I whipped the door open to greet my partner.

“Good morning. Ready to do this?” I asked.

He walked inside. “What in the hell happened in here?” His eyes fell to the condom wrappers littering the floor. They made a path around the bed.

“A good time, brother.” I slapped his back and turned to pick up my Team USA bag. It was loaded with all the gear I needed for today.

“Holy shit. Are you going to have any energy to play?”

I laughed. “She left me a little.”

Just then the door cracked open and the girl shuffled into the room, holding the sheet a little tighter.

“And she’s still here? Nice.” Scott rolled his eyes at me.

“Don’t tell me you and Reyna didn’t have a wild night last night.” The sarcasm was heavy on my words. I didn’t know what kind of sex married people had. I never planned on finding out.

“Shut up.” He threw me a nasty glare.

“Just fucking with you.” I pulled the heavy bag to my shoulder.

I turned to my latest conquest. “See you around.” I planted a quick kiss on her full lips. “Just lock up on your way out,” I instructed.

She waved goodbye. I had no idea if she understood or not. It didn’t matter. What we had served its purpose and now it was over. For all I knew she had a game today too. We both had burned off some pre-competition nerves.

I followed Scott down the hall to the elevator.

“You’re just going to leave her in there?” he asked.

“Why not?” I shrugged.

“Let me guess. You didn’t get her number.”

“Fuck no. I don’t do that. You know better.”

We waited impatiently for the elevator. This place was practically a city. With over ten thousand athletes staying in the village each building was like its own neighborhood.

“Do you even know her name?” He kept on with the questions.

“Now why would I bother with those details?”

“One day you’re going to wake up a very lonely and sad man, Pierce Miller.”

I laughed. “Then I’ll grab a beer and look back on all the nights I had like last night.”

The elevator dinged and the doors retracted.

I wanted to change the subject. I hated it when Scott got on me about my personal life. We couldn’t go into the tournament like this.

“Have you heard from Eric?” I asked.

“He said he’ll meet us at the at the beach. He wants to go over strategy before warm-ups.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded.

Eric had been our coach since Scott and I first teamed up. No one knew our strengths or weaknesses better. He also had a wicked way of sizing up the competition. He could scout out their deficiencies better than anyone in the sport. It was exactly what we needed going into the first match against Italy.

“We’re going to have to take some risks today,” Scott announced. “I don’t think we can play it safe the entire game.”

I chuckled. “You’re preaching to the choir, brother. When do I ever play it safe?”

The doors opened and we stepped into the lobby. It was packed. We weren’t the only ones trying to get somewhere early this morning.

We pushed through the crowd to the outside.

We had a match to win.