My breath came in short spurts as I leaned against my front door. Done. I had just completed my daily pre-BUD/S regimen. A two-mile ocean swim, a four-mile fast paced run, and a series of pushups, pullups, squats, lunges, and sit-ups. My legs quivered and my shins burned. But I knew that this workout was a piece of cake compared to what torture would await me in BUD/S. Training for the Olympics had been rigorous, but people had believed in me. And I had been training alongside women. This time, everyone would expect me to fail. And I’d be the lone woman in a sea of men.

I opened my front door and collapsed on the sofa as Flounder ran over to lick the salty sweat off my face. The urge to hobble over to the tub and take an Epsom bath tempted me. But I had to get ready for my date with Erik.

My date. How strange that word sounded. Dating was for other girls—I just had meaningless hookups. My head ached, but I couldn’t tell if it was from exercising under the warm San Diego sun or from nervousness about tonight. Erik was gorgeous, cocky for sure, but as Isa had pointed out, he seemed sweet for bringing his family. Why would he put in so much effort to go out with me?

Maybe he had an ulterior motive.

In the past, men had pretended they were interested in me. Only later had I found out that they wanted to use me to endorse their products or be a spokesperson for their company. It was easier for me to believe he wanted something from me than to believe that a man that hot could actually be interested in getting to know me. Me, not just the gold medal winner, but Aria, just Aria.

I hoped for the best and tumbled into the shower like a drunk trying to sober up. Remind me why I was doing this to myself again? What drove me to this compulsion to want to always be the best? Sometimes I scared myself—I had the tunnel vision of a serial killer.

As the warm water beaded against my flesh, I exhaled. The watermelon scent of my shampoo filled the steam, forcing my nerves to calm down. I emerged from the shower, dried my body, and slathered myself up in cocoa butter.

I dropped my towel and stood naked in front of the mirror. My stomach turned when I saw my freckled skin, flat chest, boyish hips, and toned arms. I felt like Carrie in that horror movie. Maybe his interest in me was some cruel joke.

The ring of my phone jolted me out of my insecurity.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, Aria. How are you?”

“Good.” I paused.

Did I dare mention to her that I am going on a date?

I wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about how men were only after one thing and would only stop me from achieving my goals.

“Good? Nothing will be good until you give up this ridiculous idea of becoming a SEAL. I don’t understand you, throwing away all your lucrative endorsements. You could be the star of Cirque de Soleil or a coach at top college, but instead, you pursue a life of poverty. You may be intelligent, but you have no common sense.”

I didn’t have the time for her nagging. I’d heard it all before.

“I got to go.”

“Why? What do you have going on that’s more important than talking to me?”

I felt almost nauseous as I spit the words out. “Actually, I have a date tonight.”

“A date? With who? You have only been there a few days. Are you on one of those dating apps where men swipe women for hookups? I told you not to put your picture on those. You are a celebrity. It would be a public relations nightmare if someone screenshotted you. It’s pretty desperate if you ask me.”

God, did she ever let up? “No, mom. I’m not on Tinder. I met this guy named Erik. He’s a SEAL. He invited me out and—”

“On a date? Why would a SEAL want to date you? I thought they were attracted to feminine girls.”

I gulped. I didn’t need this right now. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, honey. That’s not what I meant. You are strong and fierce, but you should be suspicious of his motives. You are a champion. He could be using you for your connections. There are so many beautiful women in San Diego. You need to ask yourself—why would he want me?”

My lungs constricted, making it hard to breathe. “How can you say those things to me? Why is it so hard for you to believe that a man would be interested in me?”

“Honey, I didn’t say no man would be interested in you. I just questioned a Navy SEAL’s intentions. Your decisions in life affect me, too. I didn’t sacrifice my happiness and goals for you to give up on yours to go chasing a man.”

My heart accelerated. “I’m not chasing a man, Mother. He asked me out. And I’m going. Plus, I won an Olympic gold medal. How am I not achieving my goals? I just ran four miles in twenty-eight minutes in boots and swam two miles in the ocean. Just leave me alone and live your own life.”

“Don’t you talk that way to me, missy. I gave up everything for you. I didn’t date. I worked three jobs, and I never spent any money on myself. I organized BINGO nights to fundraise for your synchro club. All for your dreams and your goals.”

“I never asked you to do that. That was your choice. You cut my father out of your life, never even telling him you were pregnant. He didn’t even know I existed. And thanks to you, he never will. And these were your goals. I was four! What did I know about synchro? Bye, mom.”

I hung up the phone and tried to push away the cruelty of her words. My face, neck, and ears seemed impossibly hot.

I had sacrificed my life too. As fearless as I pretended to be, I was scared to death of doing anything that jeopardized my success, including having a personal life. What about what I had given up?

As tears streamed down my face, a realization hit me.

I needed to spend some time on nurturing Aria the woman instead of just focusing on Aria the athlete.

I made a vow to make a change in my life.

I found a matching lavender lace bra and panty set and slipped them on my body. Next, I applied my makeup, softer than I did for competitions, spritzed on perfume, and blew dry my hair. My polish bottle beckoned me, and I spent the next half an hour painting my nails. Once they had dried, I walked over to the closet and debated my clothing choices. I didn’t want to overdress. I picked out the sexiest, casual outfit I could find—a strappy, aqua tank top and white linen shorts. I slipped my feet into some cute brand new tennis shoes.

A floating sensation overtook me like all my burdens had been lifted. I took another glance in the mirror. But this time, I didn’t see a hardened Olympian. I saw a sexy, feminine woman.

And I couldn’t wait to get to know her.