In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) (5 page)

Jessi spared Dalton a glance over her shoulder. Just as she’d thought—he was currently looking at her plate with some disgust. As her coach, he would have all the stats on her, from when she started her period to how much she weighed in the morning and at night. His knowledge would extend to what she consumed at her carefully appointed meal times, too.

So, yeah, he probably knew what she was being forced to eat this morning: a meal carefully planned out and individualized for each swimmer by the team’s nutritionist. The reality of actually seeing the food, as opposed to reading it on a spreadsheet, seemed to be bringing back some bad memories for Dalton. Jessi aborted her earlier plan and leaned to the side so he could get a better look.

Dalton scowled at her, then turned around and headed for the doors of the cafeteria. Man, he was taking this coach thing seriously. He was playing the jerk well. Then again, that was really his forte.

“You’d better go,” Amelia whispered, even though Dalton was well out of earshot.

Damn it. Jessi’s conscience was getting the better of her. After her inspiring speech about following coaches’ orders, she could hardly skip out on Dalton now. She smiled at Amelia reassuringly. “His bark is meaner than his bite. Don’t worry.”

Amelia didn’t really have to worry. She was a distance swimmer, and a breaststroker at that. The likelihood of her working directly with Dalton was slim. He was all about fast and hard. Long distance breaststroking didn’t fit that description.

Nevertheless, Jessi reached across the table and gave Amelia’s arm a little squeeze. Then she got up, grabbed her tray, and walked out of the cafeteria. Better to get this over with so she could focus on fixing her stroke and getting rid of Dalton McKinney.

Chapter 5

Jessi entered the film room that was reserved for watching tape. In this day and age, it was actually digital media; the vocabulary hadn’t caught up with the technology. Dalton was queuing the footage of her practice at the computer. He’d had ample time to get things set up.

She looked at his face. He was working hard to keep his features in check, but she could see a little pink on his cheeks. Ah, the curse of the Irish--beautiful, blushing cheeks. She’d have to keep that in mind. Dalton McKinney did have tells after all.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?” He didn’t look up.

“For keeping the lights on. I really do appreciate it, but it’s not like I’m uncomfortable with you.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I saw you, I was doing something a little...inappropriate. I thought you might be more comfortable if the first time we were in a room alone together it was a lit one.”

“Um, so you know I’ve had sex at this point, right?”

Dalton’s eyes popped open.

“It’s not like I was traumatized by what you were doing in Brazil. Well, at least not forever, anyway. I’m well over the shock and awe of Dalton McKinney. Turns out you’re not a sexual deviant after all.”

It annoyed her to no end that she was letting him off so easy, but the fact that he’d left the lights on was just the tiniest bit touching. He must have really thought he’d scarred her.

Well, he kind of had. She took it as the olive branch it was.

Her forgiving mood deteriorated substantially as her eyes fixed on the croissant sandwich and hash browns encased in a take-out box on the desk next to him. The box was wide-open and sinfully aromatic.

“You rat bastard!”

Dalton’s head jerked back up from the screen. He followed her eyes to the food and grinned. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Oh, you know what. You are
not
supposed to have that stuff in here!”

“Jessi, coaches have been sneaking food in since the center was opened. I once caught Coach Burt and his buddies killing three different kinds of deep dish pizza.” He paused and tilted his head. “Although, I think that was part of Burt’s sick and twisted coaching style. He enjoyed making cocky swimmers suffer.”

“Speaking of Burt,” Jessi huffed, “You seem to be following in his footsteps nicely.”

Dalton snorted. “I wouldn’t say that, but I’m trying.” He smiled.

Dalton’s eyes were still as unnerving as they had been eight years ago. Framed by dark brown curls, they stood out like beautiful, light blue jewels. The rest of him looked good too, unfortunately. He was still fit as ever, fatty breakfast foods notwithstanding, the ass.

Jessi chided herself once again for being in any way attracted to this man. He was trouble for her, through and through. But his eyes told a rough and hard story, and it was a story she’d always been a sucker for.

“Jessi, seriously. I’m trying to be a good coach here. I’m sorry for the past, and believe me, I wish it wouldn’t have happened. I really do want to get you where you need to be. So...” Dalton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Take it for what it’s worth.”

Jessi cocked her head. “Why is that, Dalton?”

He looked confused. “Why is what?”

“Why, after all these years of being blessedly absent from U.S. Swimming, have you so graciously returned, and to help
me
win, no less? I find that odd.”

He glared down at her. “What does it matter, as long as you win?”

She shrugged. “You’ve got a point. I guess it really doesn’t matter much to me. I’m just curious.”

“Yes. I remember that about you,” he said dryly. He reached over and gave her a friendly pat on the back.

Jessi glared at him. They weren’t getting all buddy-buddy here. Dalton needed to keep his hands to himself. “All right. I’m done talking about the past. I can’t say that I like you, Dalton McKinney, but I really do want to win. Badly. If you can make that happen, then I’ll play along.”

A line ran between Dalton’s furrowed brows. She was happy to see that, at least in private, he was affected by her, because she was certainly affected by him.

That touch, however small, reminded Jessi that it wasn’t just the boy she’d been in love with that she’d lost in Brazil. She had lost a friend, too. And they
had
been amazing friends.

Thoughts of affection abruptly ended as he grabbed his sandwich, took a huge bite, closed his eyes in what could only be described as deep satisfaction, and started the tape.

“You really are an ass, you know that?”

“Hey, I left the lights on for you.”

“Only so I could watch you eat.”

He grinned and shrugged.

“Dalton?”

“Yeah?”

“Every time I’ve ever said that I hated you, I meant it.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” He said with a grin full of greasy sunrise sandwich.

With that said and done, they went to the tedious and depressing work of figuring out what was wrong with her butterfly.

“Right here. That’s where I start to lose it.” Jessi was leaning forward, pointing at the screen.

Dalton rewound the footage to get a good look. “Yep. See, you’re pulling too hard at the start of the race. I know you’re trying to distance yourself so you’ll have time at the end to slow down, but it’s not going to work in Canada. Your shoulder’s just not strong enough to hold them off or get the kind of distance you’re going to need. Kristen VanEmmerick is going to catch you quick.”

“No, she won’t. Don’t get me wrong, I love that girl, but she is more ready for retirement than I am.”

“Don’t underestimate her, Jessi. The woman can swim.”

“So can I.”

Dalton threw his hands up in the air. “Have I ever suggested otherwise? Damn it, Jessi. This is about your swimming, nothing else. You know she’s good. Stop disagreeing just for the sake of disagreeing with
me
.”

God damn, this woman was frustrating. He never should have touched her. That had been a mistake. Now he was sitting here wondering what the hell was going on in his head while concurrently trying to figure out how to save the woman’s stroke.

“Fine. But let me say this: I don’t think Kristen is the threat she appears to be. She’s just not that into swimming anymore. She hasn’t been training hard. I think it’s going to be some kid that’s got nothing to lose and two strong shoulders.”

“Don’t you just hate those little fuckers?”

Jessi laughed. It was like seeing her at eighteen again, cute and carefree. He realized then and there that regardless of how fucked up this situation was, he’d always been more attracted to Jessi Pruitt than was good for him.

“Yeah, I do.” She looked down and shook her head. Maybe she was just as surprised that they agreed on something as he was. “By the way, I was rude. I never asked—how’s your shoulder?”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You were busy thinking up clever insults.”

She snorted in what Dalton supposed was begrudging agreement, so he went on.

“It hurts sometimes. But it’s not so bad. It helps to remind me how stupid I used to be and keeps me from falling back into old habits. Can’t say I enjoy that during my workouts, but whatcha gonna do?”

“Yeah, whatcha gonna do?” Jessi repeated. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms. “Look at us. Two old folks with bad joints. Maybe we should quit this swimming thing and start an old folk’s home for swimmers.”

“Food couldn’t get any worse, that’s for sure.”

Jessi laughed again. “Despite being a royal ass, you’re funny. You know that.”

“Yep. I do. So are you, by the way. That’s why I always liked you.”

That hadn’t been the right thing to say. It had just slipped out. But he wasn’t going to take it back because it was true. He really hadn’t meant to start anything romantic with Jessi eight years ago. He had just liked to hang around her. She had been a little intimidated by her first Olympics. He had been more than a little jaded and helped her take a cynic’s view of all the hoopla. They had started joking, and that was when Dalton had realized Jessi Pruitt had some serious wit behind those blue eyes and bright blond curls. She had made him laugh. And that had been attractive.

“You sure had a funny way of showing it.”

“And I’ve said I’m sorry for it.”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know that I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

God, the woman was stubborn, but right now, she held the cards. “Fair enough. As long as it doesn’t screw with your swimming. Now get to PT. I’ll meet you at the pool when you’re done.”

As Dalton left the film room, Jessi couldn’t help but notice his ass was just as tight at thirty-one as it had been at twenty-five. Pushing herself out of the chair, she did her best to erase that thought from her mind. Dalton was hot. No question there. Noticing it wasn’t to going change anything.

She had to be a hard ass with him. She couldn’t give him an inch because that was all he needed to turn her world upside down. This had to be all about swimming. She doubled down and pushed all thoughts of attractive coaches out of her head as she struck off for her appointment.

Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to want to talk about the man.

“Dalton’s doing a good job, isn’t he?” Marla, the team’s massage therapist was getting her ointments ready as Jessi walked up.

Forcing nonchalance, Jessi replied, “I can’t say he’s not, though I’d appreciate it if he did his job a little worse.” She gave Marla a rueful grin and stretched her shoulder.