In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) (6 page)

“You’ll get used it. You’re strong. In the meantime, I’ll take care of you.”

Jessi sat down and Marla started working her magic.

“You’re tense today.”

“I’m getting my ass kicked today.”
And not just physically
.

“Anything else bugging you?”

Yes. Thank you very much.
She had lived a good portion of her life hating the man who was now coaching her. She’d just stupidly given up some of that anger, and now she didn’t know what to feel. She was in a bit of a whirlwind here. She didn’t want to like Dalton, and yet...the grown up version appeared to be nice, smart, funny. And even better looking now than he had been eight years ago. Who did that?

“I’m fine.”
Deny, deny, deny
. She was struggling to hold on to an old grudge that had protected her heart for all these years. Now here was Dalton McKinney, all grown up and hotter than hell. Plus, he was just being too nice and helpful to justify staying mad at him. But she was still
so
mad at him!

She had to remember that all was not as it seemed with Dalton. He might smile and joke, but falling for the façade could be lethal. She had to keep her guard up. Everything Dalton did was designed to help him achieve something. He couldn’t be trusted where other people’s lives were concerned. He was too selfish in what he took from them.

“Hmm,” was all Marla said.

Thirty minutes later, all fixed up and ready to do some strengthening exercises in the water, Jessi made her way back toward the very man that had tightened her shoulders in the first place. Judging by the look in his eye and the exercise bands in his hands, she would be visiting Marla again soon.

Chest work was a total mistake. Race suits squished women’s breasts down. The workout clothes Jessi had changed into didn’t, and as it turned out, she had very nice, full, and round breasts. Dalton didn’t remember those. She’d had a nice body at eighteen, but this was something else altogether.

He had to get her on a different exercise or he was going to get caught staring. He was not supposed to be attracted to Jessi. He was supposed to help her win at the Olympics. Ogling her wasn’t going to get the job done.

“All right then,” he said a little too brightly. Let’s get you running some stairs, and we’ll call it good. Practice starts back up after lunch.”

“Okay. How’d I look on the pecs?”

“Good,” Dalton said too loudly. “Real good. Your chest...looks strong. You’ll be able to pull some good water.”

“Thank God. I feel like I’ve been using my arms for everything.”

Dalton focused on getting his mind out of the gutter. “Well, that’s because you have. We’ll get there though. You’re doing a lot better.” He gave her a nudge with his shoulder.

“Thanks.” Jessi reached out a fist for a bump. At the last moment, she caught herself and pulled her hand away.

She was too late though. He bumped her back. God, she really was adorable when she was trying to be mean.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, so, I’m trying really hard not to like you. Nevertheless—and believe me, it pains me to say this—you’re really not too bad at this coaching thing.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

They both looked around the room for something to stare at besides each other. The novelty of a happy moment was becoming a little awkward.

Dalton slapped his hands together and filled the silence with the only thing he could think of. “So, what’s for lunch today?”

For a second, she seemed relieved for the change in subject. Then she looked up at him with an annoyed stare. “I don’t know. They give you the schedules.”

“I can’t bring myself to look at that part. I get flashbacks.”

“Ha! I bet you do. That’s the part I will miss the least about all of this. The food. Uck.”

“So, you’re really ready to be done. No comeback tours?”

“Nope. I’m really ready. I’m enrolled in graduate school—physical therapy at CU-Denver. Did Sawyer mention that?” She shook her head and plowed on in true Jessi fashion. “Doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’ve got everything set up for the fall. I’m going to do some scouting work for Florida’s swim team with Sawyer. Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m just ready to move on with my life.”

All this had been delivered at breakneck speed. Just like the kid he remembered. Balls out to the wall and back. Jessi Pruitt never did anything slowly.

“That sounds...grown up. And responsible.”

“Yes. Some of us are capable of those things.” From the tone of her voice, she’d probably meant that as a joke, but her words hit a little too close to home.

“Yeah, then there’re the rest of us punks.”

“Hey, Dalton, I didn’t mean it like that. I was joking.”

“I know,” he said lightly. “So was I.”
Sort of.

Jessi looked at him dubiously but let it go. “All right. Well, I’m going to get ready for lunch. You going to be there?”

“I’ll be at the coaches’ table.”

“They feed you guys the same stuff on that side of the tracks?”

“No.”

“Seriously? That is not fair.”

“Okay, they do, but we have the right of refusal...and Jimmy Johns. I sent one of the assistants out earlier.”

“Asshole.”

“Yep.” He bumped her shoulder and walked out of the weight room having enjoyed their verbal sparring and worrying that maybe, just like when they were younger, Jessi Pruitt saw more than he wanted her to see.

Chapter 6

Lunch was the same ritualistic affair it always was. Coaches sat at a table across the room; swimmers sat in small groups. Conversation was limited by food, drink, supplements, and sheer exhaustion. Still, there was a calm sense of camaraderie that cut through the competitive tension and made the group a team.

Jessi was too distracted to enjoy it. She couldn’t take her eyes off Dalton, who was currently laughing at something Sawyer was saying. He was so in his element here. She couldn’t imagine him in a world that didn’t involve swimming. How had he survived the last eight years without it?

“Not your problem,” she muttered to herself. She was spending way too much time thinking about her coach.

“You okay?” Amelia looked up from her tray.

“Yeah. I’m just tired today. I’m going to head up to my room for a little R&R before afternoon practice.” She picked up her tray and started for the doors. She’d almost made it down the hall when she heard Dalton’s voice.

“Jessi, wait.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn’t get away from him. Opening her eyes, she turned to see Dalton jogging to catch up to her. “What do you need, Dalton?”

Reaching out to hand her a sheet of paper, he said, “Here’s your revised schedule for the day. We’re going to start with resistance training in the water. Then we’ll work on the stroke.”

Jessi reached out to take the paper from him. She looked down at the sheet and then up at him, wide-eyed with shock. “I’m with you all day—no breaks.”

He grinned. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of.” She was going for snarky, but it was all smoke and mirrors. Inside, she was reeling. Dalton was going to run her ragged, no doubt. That she could handle. The physical stuff wasn’t the problem here. Not being able to get away from him and being kind of happy about that fact was far more troubling than a little ass kicking.

“Well, get your mind around it. I’ve got all kinds of fun activities planned.” He winked at her and turned back toward the coaches’ table.

Shit, shit, shit
. On so many different levels.

An hour later, she was thinking up far more vulgar phrases.

“Pruitt! God damn it, are listening to a fucking thing I say?”

“No! Because everything you say is stupid,” Jessi yelled back and threw the empty water bottle he’d chucked at her mid-stroke. “You threw a fricking water bottle at me?”

“Yes. Because you wouldn’t stop, and you suck!”

“I couldn’t hear you!”

“Well, you still were sucking.”

They stood there, glaring at each other—her in the pool, him on the deck, a classic case of tough-ass coach and insolent swimmer. They were a perfect match of hardheaded stubbornness. Their stand-off looked to have indefinite staying power until Sawyer suddenly appeared from behind Dalton’s imposing form.

“It’s like watching dogs fight,” he mused lightly. “As much as I enjoy it—and make no mistake, this is really funny to watch—could you two fight somewhere else?”

“Shut up, Sawyer,” Dalton said, keeping his glare fixed on Jessi.

“You know,” Sawyer replied offhandedly, “she’s never going to listen to you unless you prove to her that she’s wrong.” He glanced at his watch. “You’ve got at least an hour’s worth of footage detailing just how crappy her stroke is. Why don’t you go show her how right you are?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Jessi snapped. She broke the glare first to refocus her efforts on Sawyer.

“Yeah, but I’m on his side. You suck right now.”

“I cannot believe this,” Jessi seethed. “It’s like the two of you lose brain cells when you’re in each other’s vicinity.”

Sawyer looked down at her. “Hello Kettle, I’m Pot. Have we met?”

“Shut up.” Jessi splashed water in Sawyer’s direction.

“You let her get away with that, man?” Dalton shook his head at Sawyer. “That shit would never fly back in our day.”

“You’re right. I’ve let way too much insubordination go on here. McKinney, take her to the film room and make her watch her crappy stroke over and over until she finally decides to listen to you.” Sawyer walked away.

“Why do I get the feeling he just pawned me off on you?” Jessi glanced at Sawyer’s retreating back.

Dalton looked down at her with pursed lips. “Because you are finally realizing just how much of a pain in the ass you are. Here.” He reached a hand down to help her out of the pool. “Let’s go do what he says before he brings his annoying ass back here with more sage advice.”

Jessi grunted. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day, Coach.” She took his hand, ignoring how the muscles in his biceps bulged or how little work she had to do when he helped to pull her out of the water.

They walked to the viewing room in silence, but Jessi couldn’t stand the tension for long. Her mind was a whirlwind of frustration and worry. “Is my stroke really that bad?”

“Well...” He drew the word out. “Yeah.”

“Crap.”

“Yep.”

“But you really think you can fix it?”

“If you’ll let me. Of course, that means you have to listen to me, take my advice, and quit yelling at me when you should be swimming.”

Jessi hung her head. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I kind of hate you, you know? It’s hard to admit you might be right.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

She shook her head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“See, that’s a good start.” He pushed her playfully as they entered the room. “Sometimes I think Sawyer is playing the asshole just to get us to work together.”

“You mean if we’re mad at him, we aren’t mad at each other?”

Dalton shrugged his shoulders. “If there is anything you and I hate more than each other, it’s being told what to do by someone else.”

“Do you really hate me?” For some reason, that thought bothered Jessi.

“Nah. You bug the shit out of me though.” He smiled down at her and winked.

Unsure what to think about all this camaraderie, Jessi left a seat between her and what was supposed to be Dalton’s chair. He ruined her plan by sitting down next to her and promptly pushing play on the remote. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms and legs as if they were watching a movie together rather than footage of her in the pool.

The visual brought back memories of them doing just that eight years ago. They had often spent evenings on a lobby couch watching movies, eating whatever contraband they could find, and simply enjoying each other’s company. The first time Dalton had put his arm around her, Jessi had thought she would pass out from excitement. When she had finally relaxed enough to rest her head on his arm, she had thought it to be the safest, strongest place she had found since she had won her spot on the team.