Edge of Glory (Friendship, Texas Book 1)

Edge of Glory

Friendship, Texas #1

Magan Vernon

Text copyright© 2016 by Magan Vernon

All rights reserved

www.maganvernon.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

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Summary:
 
"
Welcome to Conti's. I'm Lia and I'll nguhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
I froze. Directly facing me was Olympic swimmer, Jay Morningstar…and I just made an idiot of myself. 
The rest of the table looked up to see me standing there with my mouth practically gaping. His coach, who I recognized from TV interviews, and even two other swimmers from the Olympic team. They didn't say anything, they didn't even blink. 
"Uh…I mean…" 
I couldn't even put together my words and Jay Morningstar was just staring at me with that Wheaties box smile and those icy blue eyes. 
What was I supposed to say? Sorry I just made a weird noise, it's just that I have a poster of you on my wall where you are wearing nothing more than your gold medals, a smile, and a pair of man panties?

On the night of his father's presidential election he takes a detour and meets a waitress at a local hole-in-the wall. Samantha "Sam" Green is just as broken as he is, but covers it up with enough snark so no one tries to get too close.

First Edition, July 2016

Cover Design by Kassi Snider https://kassicoop.com/

Edited by Anna Gorman

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Dedicated to my fake husband, Ryan Lochte

No restraining order needed.

They're for quitters.

You're not a quitter.

You're an Olympian.

I think that everything is possible as long as you put your mind to it and you put the work and time into it. I think your mind really controls everything
.
- Michael Phelps

You could literally be perfect and people would still hate you for being perfect. - Ryan Lochte

I'm trying to do the best I can. I'm not concerned with tomorrow, but with what goes on today - Mark Spitz

With but a few exceptions, it is always the underdog who wins through sheer willpower - Johnny Weissmuller

In Sicily, Women are more dangerous than shotguns - The Godfather

To the person reading this book,

You may have picked up this book because of my Ryan Lochte obsession and wondered when the heck this girl was going to shut up about swimmers.

Writing this book was more than just writing about swimmers.

In 2008, Michael Phelps received a historic number of medals in the Olympic games.

It was my friend’s twenty-first birthday and we were all going out to the bars in our college town. Before we could leave, we all stayed glued to the TV, watching Michael Phelps’ hand hit the wall before everyone cheered and the announcer yelled that he’d won another gold.

We went out to the bars after that race.

I drank too much.

We went to a party.

I continued to drink.

Continued to get compliments from guys.

Advances.

Then they were more than advances.

My life changed forever after that night.

The night that should have been about celebration turned into one of the worst nights of my life. One that still haunts me years later.

I started writing Edge of Glory (at the time titled Imperfect) in 2010, thinking about Phelps and his victory. But the words wouldn’t come, so I wrote other books.

In 2012, I watched Ryan Lochte take on Phelps and was enamored with this grill-wearing swimmer. He inspired me to pick up this story again and use him as my muse for Jay Morningstar.

I followed his sudden rise to fame and watched the rise and fall of one of the biggest swimmers to take on the sport, only to have him come back with a vengeance.

A comeback I wanted.

But something was still nagging in the back of my head, something that wouldn’t let me finish it.

That night kept ringing in my head.

With the 2016 Olympics approaching, I decided to dust of Edge of Glory and finish it.

The words kept bringing me back to that dark place, but I had to push them away. I couldn’t let that night be about what he did anymore. This book had to be finished to make that night about swimming and not about him.

This is why the sport of swimming and these athletes are so important to me. Writing this book did more for me than I think anyone will ever know.

And to you, the reader who picked this book up, thank you for being on the edge with me.

Xoxo

Magan Vernon

(Or Magan Vernon-Lochte)

(Or Magan Vernon-Lochte-Phelps)

Some girls have all the luck and some girls spend New Year's Eve working at their parents' restaurant.

"Order up, Lia."

I turned toward the kitchen just as a wave of steam from a plate of linguini rose up and hit me in the face like a giant, pungent cloud.

"Ack." I vigorously wiped my eyes and hoped I didn't have dough underneath my fingernails that would blind me.

"Sonny, can you warn me next time you are about to put down a plate of food?"

"Ey, I said order up," My brother, Sonny, yelled over the clanging of pots and pans. The only thing I could see was the top of his head and the shine on his slicked back hair.

"Hey, no fighting the two of you.
Che Cazzo
!" Ma's voice boomed.

"We weren't fighting, Ma, Lia just can't take a joke," Sonny said, giving her his trademark shit-eating grin.

I glared at my older brother. The pain in the ass. Of course, Ma smiled at him. Every Italian mother loved her son, and my ma had two of them. My oldest brother, Nicky, was married and living with his wife in town, but I had a feeling Sonny would never move out of my parents’ house.

Sonny graduated from Texas A&M and then moved right back in. I thought maybe with him back home my parents would ease up their strictness on me. No such luck.

Just like always: Sonny could do no wrong and Rosalia was the delicate flower.

"It's not bad enough that I have to spend my New Year’s Eve stuck here," I mumbled, grabbing the tray of food and quickly darting toward the nearby tables, so I wouldn't have to get an earful from my mother.

The air was stiff in the restaurant, every single booth was full, and every time the front door opened, everyone leaned in to catch some of the cold, Texas air, which was an oxy-moron in itself. It never got cold in Texas and now that it was in the teens, everyone thought it was the end of the world. Stores were out of milk and bread, and everyone coming into the restaurant was layered in whatever warm clothes they could find.

I dropped off the tray of pasta to its respective table and headed over to a corner booth that had just piled in. I tried to put on my best smile and then a squeaky voice caught me from a table behind one of the lemon trees.

"What is with this restaurant? We've been waiting like forty-five minutes. It's times like this that I really miss Austin. At least they have more than one decent restaurant."

As if my night wasn't bad already, it had to be Christy Quinn's whiney voice behind the tree. I would rather be cleaning up Nonna's goat’s poop than deal with her. I put on the best smile that I could and walked over to her booth where, of course, she had to be sitting with the rest of her drones. Seriously, carbon copies of her that just said what she wanted them to say.

Why. Why. Why couldn't she stay at University of Texas over winter break? It had been so nice these last few months without her.

"Welcome to Conti's. I'm Lia, and I'll be your server tonight, is there anything that I can start you out with?" I could have said that line in my sleep and no matter how much I hated staring at Christy's stupid powder-covered face, I could still take an order.

"Do you have anything that is, like, not carb filled or fried?" Teagan Munson's hair was so blown out and hair sprayed I wondered if she was hiding an entire colony of bees in there.

"Teagan, you know this is an Italian restaurant, right?" Marcus Benjamin laughed. He looked even more like a horse face when he laughed, with his stupid overly bleached teeth taking over his whole face.

"Yeah, but they have to have something else." Teagan turned toward Joey Bianchi. "You're like Italian, or whatever, don’t they have something else?"

"Yeah, Joey, you even dated our friend Rosalia back in the day, so I'm sure she could show you all of the best sausages," Marcus quipped.

Neighhhhhhhhhh, Neigggggggggggggh.
It was the only thing I could think every time the guy opened his mouth.

"Oh please, Marcus, you know that Lia doesn't like sausage." Christy tossed back her glossy, black hair.

Obviously, I was still standing right there.

"Do you guys still need a few minutes to look over the menu?"
Don't cry Lia, don't cry. A few more months and you'll be away at school and away from the lame lesbian jokes.

With very strict parents, I didn't have much of a social life in high school. I had an early curfew and didn't do many extra circulars. Since I didn't dare try to date anyone and have to bring them home to my overbearing parents, I was labeled as a lesbian early on. I guess it was the best comeback that kids could come up with and it stuck.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Joey didn't even try to look at me.

Grow a foot, learn to play football, and all of a sudden you forget who your friends are
.

I made my way back to the kitchen when my overly pregnant sister-in-law, Dana, stopped me.

The girl was petite, blonde, and a complete sweetheart. The opposite of my brooding oldest brother. They always gave me a little bit of hope that maybe I could find a guy for me, but then of course my parents would have to remember that I'm almost twenty and not a little girl that couldn't leave the house.

"Hey, Lia, do you mind covering this next booth for me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Really, Dana? I'm already covering half your tables."

"Please," she pleaded with those pre-natal vitamin dilated pupils.

"Ugh, fine." I rolled my shoulders and craned my neck from side to side.

"Thanks, Lia, you're my favorite sister-in-law!" She beamed and then waddled toward the bathroom.

"I'm your only sister-in-law," I yelled back as I reached into my apron to pull out my note pad.

I turned toward the booth, not looking up as I flipped through my book for a fresh page. "Welcome to Conti's. I'm Lia and I'll nguhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

I froze. Directly facing me was Olympic swimmer, Jay Morningstar…and I just made an idiot of myself.

The rest of the table looked up to see me standing there with my mouth practically gaping. His coach, who I recognized from TV interviews, and even two other swimmers from the Olympic team. They didn't say anything; they didn't even blink.

"Uh…I mean…"

I couldn't even put together my words and Jay Morningstar was just staring at me with that Wheaties box smile and those icy blue eyes.

What was I supposed to say? Sorry I just made a weird noise; it's just that I have a poster of you on my wall where you are wearing nothing more than your gold medals, a smile, and a pair of man panties?

What the hell was he doing in Friendship anyway? Not that I was stalking the guy, but there were a lot of rumors floating around the internet about him and unflattering pictures of him partying along with a mug shot. I never believed all of the celebrity rumors, or followed them like my best friend Sofie, but I knew he'd disappeared for a while. I guess Friendship was the place to go and not be noticed.

"Don't worry I get it all the time." His coach tossed his hand out and the rest of the table let out a stifled laugh.

"Well, is there anything that I can start you out with tonight? Our house wine is a—"

Shit. Jay was my age and pretty sure the mug shot was from a DUI. But the other guys were older, maybe I needed to offer it to them. Gah. I couldn't think. 

"Lia, that's an interesting name, is it short for anything?"

Oh em Gee, Jay Morningstar was actually talking to me and addressing me directly. I could literally feel the blood rise to my face.

I tried staring at his chiseled jaw and that damn dimple on his chin, but my eyes kept lingering over the shirt that stretched across his broad chest. He supposedly had a wingspan that was longer than his six-foot-two frame and what a girl wouldn't give to be wrapped in those long arms.

"Uh, it's actually short for Rosalia, the Patron Saint of Palermo, where my parents are from."
Geez, Lia, I'm her probably didn't want to hear your whole life story. Way to go.

"I like it. It suits you."

He was still staring at me. I was trying my hardest not to stammer or faint or just trip over something and look incredibly stupid.

"Are you going to keep flirting with the waitress or can I order some food? I'm freaking hungry," Scotty Forrester, the red-haired, freckled face Olympian whined. He broke some records in the pool and supposedly some other ones outside of it for most hook ups post games.

At least that's what Total Celebrity Network said.

Christy poked her shiny head through the lemon tree and was looking right at Jay. "There's really no point in flirting with Lia, she's not into dudes."

Ugh, Really? Right now?

"Well I'm sure that Scotty could change that." The other swimmer, Johnny Laughlin, laughed, pointing in Scotty's direction.

"Well if you'd like a girl that doesn't smell like olive oil, my friends and I will be up at the Q Ranch in the hot tub all night after this." She fluttered her too-long-to-be-real eyelashes and all of the attention was definitely off me.

"Um…I'll go get you guys some waters and be back to take your order," I squeaked, practically running toward the kitchen.

"Is that..?" Sonny leaned on the counter as I approached it. I rested my hands on the cool, granite top, hoping that would do something to keep my temperature from boiling over.

"Yeah, that's the Olympic swimming tri-fecta and I just made an ass of myself in front of them." I couldn't look up. Christy Quinn, once again, made an idiot of me.

"I was actually going to ask if that was Julie Quinn's hot little sister, but that answer works too." He shrugged, turning back toward the kitchen.

"I'm really not in the mood to hear about all the girls you want to bone in the restaurant tonight." I picked at a piece of dough that had managed to get stuck on the hairs on my arm.

"Well, I don't want to hear about you boning that spiky-haired dude whose poster takes up your entire room." He turned back to me, flashing that cocky grin of his. I swear I didn't know how he got so many girls. Our Nonna always said he reminded her of a young Marlon Brando, I just thought he was a
minchia

"Would that be the cereal box poster or the underwear ad?"

I turned to find myself face to face with the spiky-haired one himself. He was grinning, making that damn dimple and pearly white smile shine. I couldn't stop staring at him.

"Uhhhhhh…"  If my face wasn't already red enough, it was now probably darker than the pizza sauce.

"Oh, it's definitely the underwear ad." Sonny poked his head out from behind me in the kitchen.

"SONNY." I whipped my head around, hoping that I didn't hit Jay in the face with my ponytail.

"Well, he asked." Sonny leaned back, holding his arms in the air.

"It's cool. I like that one better too." Jay leaned in so his face was just inches from mine, I could almost smell his toothpaste and it was very minty. I wonder if he tasted like that. Mint and Chlorine I imagined.

"Uhhhmmmmm…" I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound stupid and of course trying to suck in my stomach at the same time. Try meeting the man of your dreams and you’re covered in pizza dough and been eating breadsticks the past hour.

"I'm sorry about my teammates back there, they were just messing around, so don't worry about them." No wonder he was on the cover of a cereal box, in person, his smile was even better. No neighing horse teeth.

"Oh, it's fine, I'm used to it. I have two older brothers and, well, you already saw what I have to put up with." I let out one of those silent giggles where it's just blowing air out of your nose. But my nose isn't all that small so I was a little afraid that I might have blown the hair off of his head or scared him with my large, Sicilian nostrils.

"And sorry about that rude chick. I don't know what her issue is with you, but I just wanted to come and say something because...well..." He laughed slightly. "I don't know, I guess I didn't want to come off as a dick."

"I'm not a lesbian, you know," I blurted without even thinking what I was saying.

He blinked slightly then smiled. "Good to know that trying to flirt with you could actually work."

My eyes widened and every part of my body awakened. Was Jay Morningstar really flirting with me? Did he flirt with every waitress at every restaurant?

"Rosalia! Does this young gentleman need a drink order?" Dad's gruff hand was on my shoulder.

Dad was a few inches shorter than me and balding with a thick, graying mustache, but still commanded power like he was the biggest Don in Texas. Though, I was pretty sure the man never had any mafia ties.

"No, sir, just apologizing to the waitress for my table's rudeness." Jay put on the extra charm with each word, but Dad's stern expression didn't change.

My eyes trailed down to the Olympics ring tattoo on Jay's arm. I’d only seen it in pictures, but I found myself staring at it and wondering about the other tattoo that I'd only seen in pictures. The one that his Speedo barely covered.