Running Deep Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Praise for Bette Hawkins

  Other Books by Bette Hawkins

  About the Author

  Acknowledgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Bella Books

  Synopsis

  Welcome to the world of elite swimming with all its competitiveness and comradery—and sometimes much, much more.

  It’s here that American swimming star Angie Thompson and Australian prodigy Hannah Clark—both the youngest on their respective teams—form a fast friendship that grows into something much deeper. As they train for the Olympics, the long-distance sweethearts exchange loving letters and lengthy phone calls—until Angie suddenly and unexpectedly severs their relationship, leaving Hannah confused and devastated.

  Years later, as Hannah trains for a comeback at the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney, she is stunned to learn that Angie has been hired by the Australian coaching team. Although Hannah is still crushed by what happened all those years ago, the two athletes slowly form a tentative bond and get to know each other again—this time as adults.

  Soon neither can ignore the intense attraction they still feel, now propelled to a higher level by a steamy kiss in a hotel swimming pool. Is it possible for them to win each other’s love…or are they just treading water?

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  Praise for Bette Hawkins

  In My Heart

  Set in 1958 in small-town Southern US and focused on the early days of the country music circuit, this is a really sweet and gentle romance. The setting gives it a bit of a nostalgic feel, but Hawkins keeps things realistic and the setting comes alive. Hawkins provides enough detail to set the scene and give the reader a feeling of being in the moment without resorting to dumping information and context. Narrated by Alice, In My Heart follows her struggle to find her place in the world. There’s a wonderful innocence and inner strength in Alice—smothered by her life in a small southern US town, she wants more than to follow in the footsteps of her mother and sister, she wants to make her own way in the world and make her own mark. I especially appreciated that Hawkins wrote Alice within the context of the time and place—in some novels, the main characters openly, and rather unrealistically, challenge the societal norms but Alice’s resolution and rebellions are subtle and small…This isn’t a long book but Hawkins uses the time she has with the reader to focus on the characters and creates a wonderfully sweet romance.

  —C-Spot Reviews

  In My Heart is a well-written romance with good pacing and dialogue. The interesting plot is about two strong talented women, country music, small-town mindset, being different… All in all, a really enjoyable story which I will read again. I recommend it, and am looking forward to the next book by the author.

  —Pin’s Reviews —goodreads

  Like a Book

  Like a Book is Bette Hawkins’s second book and it has a lot of good things going for it (especially June!). If you enjoy contemporary romances, especially those set in Australia, you should check this one out. I look forward to seeing what’s next from this author.

  —The Lesbian Review

  No More Pretending

  I don’t know what it is, but something about romances that involve a movie star falling in love with a girl-next-door type, are some of my favorites. I must be honest, this book was not on my radar at all. Therefore, it was such a pleasant surprise how much I really enjoyed this. Then to find out this is a debut novel, I’m even more impressed. The way she writes is believable and I thought contained good dialogue. For me, she successfully “showed” the romantic connection, and that’s what I look for in a romance author.

  —Lex Kent’s Reviews —Goodreads

  Other Bella Books by Bette Hawkins

  In My Heart

  Like a Book

  No More Pretending

  About the Author

  Bette lives in Melbourne with her girlfriend and dogs. She loves travel, music, cinema, playing the guitar, and cooking. She’s passionate about lesbian stories.

  Copyright © 2020 by Bette Hawkins

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  First Bella Books Edition 2020

  eBook released 2020

  Editor: Ann Roberts

  Cover Designer: Judith Fellows

  ISBN: 978-1-64247-117-5

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Acknowledgment

  Thanks to my sweet Hazel, and everyone at Bella Books.

  Chapter One

  2000 Olympic Trials - Sydney

  The announcer introduced Hannah, and the spectators cheered. As she stepped up to the block she reminded herself to smile, waving to the crowd.

  She adjusted her goggles and stared into the pool while the announcer moved on to her competitors. She focused on the shimmering water that lay beneath her feet. Her underwhelming qualifying time had placed her in the first lane. Having an empty one beside her would cut down on distractions, and she didn’t mind that her lane meant nobody thought she was going to win.

  For the past eighteen months, a mantra had looped through Hannah’s mind. It played in time with every stroke. At five in the morning, when she dragged herself out of bed to train, her feet hit the floor to the rhythm of the words.

  She was going to win this race. She had to win this race.

  Hannah gazed into the water so she wouldn’t have to look at the spectators, but she was attuned to each sound they made. There were thousands of people shouting, stamping their feet, and clapping. They weren’t just watching for her, but there was feverish speculation about her prospects from every newspaper and trashy magazine in the country. Comi
ng out of retirement had been a secret for as long as she could get away with it. By now, photographers were following her around, circling like vultures to stick their cameras in her face. The press had grown even more intrusive since she’d last competed.

  Hannah sensed the media was poised to tip the narrative one way or the other, comeback stories half-written and waiting for this next chapter. If she qualified for the hometown Olympics, she would be a phoenix rising from the ashes. If she failed, she would be their cautionary tale, a fallen hero who’d overreached. Too old, and who did she think she was, trying to snatch a spot on the team away from more deserving contenders?

  Even if she could block out the ascending rows upon rows of the audience, there was one person whose presence she could never ignore, no matter how hard she wanted to try.

  Angie Thompson stood at the pool’s side, watching her. Weeks ago, Hannah caught a segment on Sports Weekly about Angie joining the Australian coaching team. After that story, Hannah endured sleepless nights contemplating pulling out, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with Angie.

  For years, Hannah was confident they would never see one another again. An ocean separated them, along with so much time. That part of her life was squared away in a box on the highest shelf, and she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on it.

  Their eyes met before Hannah shifted her gaze back to the water. There were a lot of things about Angie that were just as Hannah remembered. In the footage on the morning show, Hannah noticed Angie’s warm green eyes and the way they creased at the corners when she smiled.

  There were many differences too. They’d been only kids the last time they’d seen one another in person. Angie’s honey-brown hair fell in waves, longer and thicker now that she didn’t have to deal with chlorine damage. The warm blond highlights suited her. Since retiring from swimming, she had put on weight that she wore well. She was all soft curves these days.

  After watching the segment, Hannah looked into her own brown eyes in the mirror to check for lines. She didn’t think she’d changed that much, but how could she know for sure? Her black hair was still cut just above her shoulders, and her skin had cleared since then. After some time away from the industry, she’d gotten back into shape.

  If she qualified today, she couldn’t avoid Angie. The best she could hope for was that any awkwardness passed quickly, but she might be making too much of it. Angie loomed large in her history, but there was no way of knowing if the reverse was true.

  The crowd was quiet now, holding a collective breath as they waited for the race to begin.

  It wasn’t possible to forget Angie’s presence, so Hannah reframed it. Folding her body in readiness to dive, she decided that Angie being here was a good omen. Throughout her early swimming career, she was the person against whom she measured herself. Hannah had been a winner then, and she would be now.

  She anticipated the starting gun, every muscle primed. When it sounded, she flew into the pool, her feet leaving the block in a perfectly executed movement.

  The water cradled her body. There was nothing she loved more than being weightless like this, in the quiet. She followed the black line beneath her, only dimly aware of the swimmer in the next lane. There was no room for thoughts of anything but her own pace. She was conserving energy during this lap, adhering to the race strategy she’d worked out with her coach.

  At the first turn, she kicked powerfully against the wall. The chase was what she’d missed, the sense of racing against herself. She worked with the water, letting it propel her forward.

  During the last length, her kicking legs burned. She pushed through the pain, shoving it into the background. It was white noise; only static.

  She was going to win this race. She had to win this race. She was going to win.

  When she touched the wall, she bobbed out of the water and sucked in air. Instead of looking around at the other lanes, she swiveled her head to wait for numbers to appear on the board.

  She pushed the goggles back onto her cap, squinting to make sure. She rose up in the water, holding out a fist to the roar of the crowd.

  Reaching across the lane divider, she hugged Rachel Willis, who’d placed second. Rachel grinned toothily at her, and Hannah was glad they’d just become teammates. She’d have to remember to ask someone exactly how old Rachel was; she must be only sixteen or so. Not much older than Hannah when she’d met Angie.

  Hannah hauled herself out of the water and looked for Angie, who nodded toward her.

  On shaky legs, Hannah approached her coach, Neil. His stubbly cheek scratched against her as they hugged. They’d worked so hard together, and if not for him agreeing to take her on, she would never have done this.

  Neil was the kind of coach who took care of her head and her heart, instead of reducing her to a machine. From the beginning, he’d supported her wishes to concentrate on only the two-hundred-meter race.

  “So proud of you, Hannah,” he said, slapping her on the back.

  Dutifully, Hannah kept her stance opened when the media approached her.

  A blond reporter frowned at her, pointing a microphone toward her mouth. “What are you feeling right now? It must be a relief to know that all your hard work has paid off?”

  “It is,” Hannah said, still trying to regain her breath. There was always a moment when she felt like saying the first thing that jumped into her mind, but she stuck to the stock phrases she’d rehearsed. “It was a very competitive field, and everyone swam their hearts out. I’m very proud that I’ll be representing Australia at the Games.”

  A balding man edged forward, shoving his microphone closer. “You’ve never talked much about why you left the sport all those years ago. Is that something you’d care to comment on now?”

  She forced her smile wider. “I’m sorry I can’t help you with that, but there’s not much more to say. I felt that I was too young to cope with the demands. I wanted to live a little before I came back. That’s all.”

  As she warmed down with slow strokes, the meaning of the last hour caught up with her. For most of the other women in her race, the journey was at its end. It could have been her. And though there was still so far to go, she allowed herself a precious moment to soak up the fact that it wasn’t.

  She toweled off next to the warm down pool and started toward the changing rooms, planning on taking a shower to collect herself before the full press conference. Someone stepped in front of her, the two of them narrowly avoiding a collision.

  “I’m sorry,” Angie said. Hannah’s hands came to Angie’s shoulders to steady her, but she dropped them quickly.

  Angie tipped forward on her toes like she was about to offer a hug. Instead, she put out a hand, painted black nails pointing toward Hannah. Green eyes stood out against her olive skin. “Congratulations, Hannah.”

  Flashbulbs and shutters popped around them. It was a golden photo opportunity, former Olympic rivals meeting years later.

  “Thanks. I have to say, it’s funny to see you in Australian colors,” Hannah said.

  Angie looked down at her green and gold polo shirt. “I know. But I’m proud to be part of the team.”

  “Right. Anyway, I should…”

  “Just a second,” Angie said with her palm on Hannah’s forearm. When Hannah looked down at it, Angie took it away. “I just wanted to ask you. Maybe we could get breakfast or something? Get caught up? I’m staying over in Bondi, but I’ll be here for another week. I’m sure you’re busy, but…”

  “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not here for long. And you’re right, things are pretty frantic right now.”

  Angie pushed her hair behind her ear, her smile faltering. “Of course, I understand. If it’s all right, I’m just going to give you my card. It has my email on it. In case you happen to get some free time…”

  She reached into the pocket of her black pants, toying with the card before handing it over. Hannah dampened it as she clutched it between her fingers.

  “Imagine how di
fferent things would have been if we’d had email back then. It’s a pretty crazy invention when you think about it. Like something out of science fiction. Well, it’s nice to see you. And again, congratulations.”

  When Angie dropped her voice and leaned closer, she bent to hear her.

  “I know we’re not supposed to favor anyone, but I was rooting for you.”

  “Thanks, Angie.”

  They stood in place, staring at one another.

  It was another thing that hadn’t changed. Angie had a way of making Hannah feel important with her kind words, well-placed looks, and touches.

  It was what made it so hard to accept how thoughtless she could be.

  From behind Angie, another reporter advanced. Hannah was sure that she and Angie would be roped into a joint interview sometime, but it didn’t have to be right now. “Excuse me, I should get ready. I’ll see you later.”

  She walked away, pushing her fingers under her swimming cap to draw it off, wincing when it caught on her hair. She was anxious to get through the press conference so she could be away from the attention. All she wanted was a large meal in front of the television.

  As she rinsed off, she wondered how she appeared to Angie. The girl she’d been at fourteen was so far away. She had been so unsure of herself back then and desperate for Angie’s approval. Though Angie had been nothing but respectful toward her just now, her presence made Hannah feel small.

  Maybe the wounds had never really healed, and she’d just patched them up enough to forget for a little while how painful it had all been.

  Hannah scrubbed her skin, hard. None of it mattered. There was too much at stake for her to wallow. She needed to bend her mind toward the idea that having Angie around was a good thing. If she’d learned anything at all from the association with her old rival, it was that swimming was a psychological game.