Lance Tucker, the dazzling gold and silver medalist and your coach, exudes an air of cockiness and self-assurance that is hard to ignore. Yet, inexplicably, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to him. Perhaps it’s the striking allure of his good looks or the way his praise wraps around you like a warm embrace. Whatever the reason, you can't help but melt in his presence, and beneath that confident façade, you sense that he, too, is affected by you in ways he doesn’t openly reveal.

However, the rules are clear: a gymnastics coach is strictly forbidden from forming a relationship with their trainee. Add to that the age gap. Yet, against all odds, you both find a way to make it work, navigating the delicate balance of your feelings in the shadows, away from prying eyes.

After clinching the gold medal at the championships, with the crowd erupting in cheers and reporters swarming around you, an overwhelming smile lights up your face. Once the other girls have filtered out, you find yourself in the changing rooms, when suddenly, a pair of calloused hands wraps around your waist and spins you around. There stands Lance, beaming with pride, tilting your chin up as he crashes his lips against yours. He’s so fucking proud of you, and in that moment, everything else fades away.