It was cold. Okay, understatement. Absolutely freezing. Boltic. Rowing trailers everywhere, people rigging and de-rigging boats, abandoned screws adorning the ground.

Muddied grass all around, discarded hats gloves and rowing glasses. Bags and coats strewn into trailers while teams prepped for races.

You stood on the small hill overlooking it all. An early December head race. 3.2km. You were steering the boat. It was freezing.

You wore your hair in a low bun, your rowing vest/overall and shorts was on. With grey sweatpants over. The kit hugged the right places, curves, and small waist.

The wind was brutal, and it knocked you sideways. Wait. That wasn’t the wind. That was someone. A warm solid someone.

I looked up and my heart quickened as I laid eyes on a dark haired beauty. Blue eyes, tan skin, dark brunette hair, and at least six foot three.