In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) (8 page)

“Ease up, Jess. I get, like, five minutes a day to relax. I’ll put on my coach face in just a second.” Sawyer walked off, leaving her and Dalton alone.

“You’re not going to put on your coach face, are you?” Jessi had lost all hope for professionalism this morning.

“Nah,” Dalton replied, smiling at her. “It doesn’t really work on you anyway.”

“Actually, if I’m being honest, you’ve got a pretty good coach face.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve got the younger kids peeing in the pool.”

“Seriously?” Dalton paused and thought about that. “Awesome.”

“Oh my God!” Jessi shook her head. “It’s like talking to a child.”

Dalton furrowed his brow. “It’s been awhile since you’ve been around men, hasn’t it?”

“No. No, it hasn’t. I’ve been around you all for my whole life. Man-children seem to flock to me. What is wrong with you all?”

“Well, women are tricky, you know? They have all kinds of expectations that are just ridiculous to try and figure out. When we meet one who can hang, we tend to keep her around.”

“You mean when you meet one who lets you get away with your bullshit.”

“Oh, Jessi.” Once again, he put his arm around her as they walked. “I’m not that stupid. You’ve never let me get away with a damn thing, and we both know it.” He gave her arm a squeeze and let go. “You can take just as much as you dish out. Just because I made stupid decisions where you were concerned doesn’t mean I’ve ever thought you were a pushover.”

“Hmm.” Jessi pursed her lips. “You can see how I’d be confused.” She paused. “We’re clear in this circumstance, though, correct?”

“As crystal. Now go eat. Amelia is staring at you.” He winked and left her standing alone.

The room started to fill up. Jessi looked over to her table, where indeed, Amelia was staring, wide-eyed, at her. Apparently, the switch in her and Dalton’s public behavior hadn’t escaped her scrutiny.

“Sooo... You two are getting along better, it seems,” Amelia pointed out as Jessi approached.

“Of course. We are adults who are working together. Why wouldn’t we get along?”

“All right,” Amelia said in a no nonsense kind of way. “Listen. I’m sixteen, so all I think about is sex. Let me just say... so are you.” She finished her thought by pointing her index finger in Jessi’s direction.

“Oh my God! I am not!”

“OMG,” Amelia mocked in a shrill, girly voice, then deadpanned, “You are too.”

“How did you become so jaded? You’re way too young.”

“I was born long after MTV aired
The Real World
. I blame it on your generation.”

“Technically,” Jessi grumbled, “we’re in the same generation.”

Amelia snorted. “Barely. Anyway, blame it on the fact that I’ve pretty much been an adult for the last five years. I set my own alarm clock; I go to practice twice a day. I look over time sheets while my friends go on dates. You pick a reason. In any case, I don’t have time to be a kid, so I watch other people to figure out how to act. You—” she pointed her fork in Jessi’s direction “—and him?” She pointed the fork in Dalton’s direction. “Youse gots the hots for each other. End. Of. Story.”

Jessi glared at the girl. “You’ve got issues. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell the team psychologist. At least I’m honest with myself.”

“Lost youth. It’s a tragedy.” Jessi shook her head.

Amelia flipped her off.

They set into their breakfasts, but Jessi barely managed to finish hers. Between Amelia’s pointed comments and Dalton laughing it up with Sawyer across the cafeteria, she wasn’t all that focused on her food.

On her way to the pool, the day simply got worse. While bobbing along to her music and swinging her goggles around her finger, she saw Dalton headed her way. Losing her rhythm, the goggles flew off her hand and hit her in the face. “Ow!”

“You okay there, ace?” came Dalton’s amused voice.

“Yes. Thank you very much for your concern,” Jessi said, rubbing the offended eye.

“I’m always concerned about my swimmers.”

“Yeah, well right now you seem to be especially focused on me.” She bent to retrieve the goggles that had fallen on the floor.

Unfortunately, Dalton bent down at the same time, cracking his head into hers.

“Ouch!” Jessi clapped a hand to her forehead.

“Mother fuck—are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jessi replied, squinting from the pain.

“Shit, you’ve got a bump,” Dalton said, touching a sore spot on her head.

“I’ll be okay. Really.” She was still seeing stars but knew the world would right itself shortly.

“Damn, I suck at this,” Dalton said under his breath.

“What?”

“Coaching. I suck at it. If I’m not yelling at you or saying something inappropriate, I’m knocking your block off in hallways.”

She laughed. “You don’t suck. You’re just always on full steam ahead.” She tried to rub her head, but Dalton was still checking over the spot with his own hands.

“It doesn’t look like I’ve caused permanent damage.” Then, in a move that seemed as natural as breathing, Dalton bent down and pressed his lips to the injured area.

The second his lips touched her head, they both froze. This wasn’t like the friendly smack after the tape room. This was something more intimate.

“Shit.” His whispered oath was cool against the damp spot on her forehead.

“Yeah.” She looked up at him, her mouth inches from his, and somehow, some way, their lips met. Jessi couldn’t believe she was doing this, but holy hell, she liked the feel of his lips on hers.

Since she’d started it, Jessi supposed she should pull away first. She had a hard time talking herself into it, though. “Dalton, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“I know. Me either.”

They pulled apart. Dalton propped his back against the wall and drew his knees up while looking to the ceiling as if it might provide insight to solving this current debacle. Since she didn’t have a better plan, Jessi did the same thing. After a moment of silence, she spoke up.

“Please don’t think that wasn’t nice, but we can’t be doing that again.”

“It was more than nice, Jessi.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said quietly.

“But you’re right—we can’t do that again. I’m not even sure why I let it happen in the first place.”

“Probably because you’re horny and I’m the best thing there is to offer around here,” she said in a desperate attempt to make a joke of things.

He nudged her shoulder. “Shut up. You know that’s not it.”

“Maybe not,” she conceded. “But we’ve got history, and we’ve spent a lot of time drudging it up. Our past was bound to catch up with us at some point.”

Dalton gave it some thought. “You might have a point there. So we agree that we won’t do that again?”

“Yep.”

“And we’re all good?”

“Yep.”

After a long pause, Dalton simply said, “All right then. Let’s get you to practice.” He stood and gave her a hand.

They walked off together, but neither said a word. There simply was nothing left to say.

Jessi looked down at her schedule for the day. In an effort to break the silence, she grabbed the first thing that popped into her head. “So we’re working with the rest of the flyers today, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ll be coaching all of you for the morning, at least.”

She didn’t know how she felt about that. On one hand, it would be nice to have others present to deflect some of the one-on-one time between them. She was also starting to swim like her old self again and could use some team practice. On the other... God damn it if she didn’t feel disappointed at having to share him.

“Well, I guess it was selfish to hope for your undivided attention forever.” She meant it as a joke, but Dalton didn’t let it go.

“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m pretty much entirely focused on you right now.”

“Kissing me will do that to a guy.”

“I’m aware.”

Somehow, he’d become her friend, of sorts, again. They were so much alike and so different that they came together well as partners. Then of course... he was just so fricken hot! That was the problem. She
knew
he was trouble. She
knew
she had to stay away from him. But there was something about him that had always pulled on her heartstrings. Being a chick sucked sometimes.

“Well, on the practical side, practicing with the others will keep us from doing something stupid. Besides, they need you too.” Jessi wasn’t the only one who would benefit from Dalton’s presence. She didn’t know all of the details of his employment, but she knew he was in charge of the flyers. He took his job seriously. He was setting grueling practices and seemed to have a single-minded dedication to getting them into shape for the Olympics. It would be selfish to try to keep that all to herself.

“There is that.” He nodded and finally looked down at her. One corner of his mouth tipped up.

She was glad to see they could get past that kiss.

By the afternoon, she had realized Dalton hadn’t gotten past anything. The man was frustrated. Her back ached and her ass burned from the miles and miles of dolphin kicks he’d forced the team to do. If they weren’t performing up to his standards, he wasn’t beyond his signature water bottle bombs. Despite her distaste over serving as a target, throwing things was a common tactic among swim coaches. Swimmers can’t hear, at least not well, when they are in the water. Throwing something at them tended to communicate eloquently what words couldn’t.

Still, Dalton seemed to like throwing them a little too much. He was currently at the other end of the pool screaming at some of the younger guys on the team. This particular group was in college. All were every bit as cocky as Dalton and Sawyer had been at that age, and, at the moment, they were being disabused of their overall greatness.

“If you’re whining, you’re not working. Now put your face in the water and
swim
!”

Despite herself, Jessi laughed. Dalton really was funny when he was coaching.

“Enjoy it while you can, Pruitt. You’re getting a reprieve.” Sawyer appeared next to her with his ever-present clipboard.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Today’s the start of the PR campaign.”

“Noooo,” Jessi whined.

“Yes.”

Jessi understood the delicate balance that was U.S. Olympics and press coverage and did her best to navigate between the two. Still, it was a tough job. She didn’t mind interviews. Media attention had never been a problem for her, but only because she didn’t let it. If things started to affect her swimming, she simply retreated to the pool and let the PR folks do their jobs. Sometimes, though, that was easier said than done.

“Why don’t you dry off and head up to Allie’s office?”

Allie was the head of their PR team, and Jessi knew her well. She loved Allie, but even if she’d hated her, getting out of Dalton the Terrible’s line of vision seemed like a wise decision today.

A half-hour later, she was being buzzed into Allie’s office on the other side of the complex. Poking her head through the door, she let out a tentative, “Okay if I come in?” Allie was a busy woman and Jessi always felt like she was disturbing her. She had no idea how to act toward people with real jobs.

“Of course! Come in, come in!” Allie got up from her desk and walked over to give Jessi a quick hug. “How are you doing? It’s been a while.”

Jessi immediately relaxed. Allie was a tall, sophisticated brunette with the ruthlessness necessary for the fast-paced job she performed. Sometimes she made Jessi nervous, but she always seemed to know how to make things comfortable.

“I’m good, Allie. How are you?”

“
I’m
great, but I don’t know how
you’re
going to be when you hear what I’ve got to say.”

“Just give it to me.”

“Okay.” Allie whipped back over to her desk and pulled up her screen. “So far, you’ve got a few satellite interviews with the twenty-four hour news stations. When those are over, you’ve got a sit down face–to-face with Claudel Lemaitre at three o’clock.” She paused. “Is that going to be okay, Jessi?” she asked seriously.

“Absolutely! Claudel and I are good friends,” she replied.

Actually, he was an ex-boyfriend who had just the
slightest
little tendency to forget the “ex” part now and then. Claudel was also a former French swimmer and international playboy. He’d always been a player, and she hadn’t been interested in him at first—not after Dalton. But Claudel had worn her down. They’d had a fun relationship, broken up after college, and remained friends. Claudel liked to push the “friends” part.

Still, he was a good...ish guy. He’d put up his Speedo a few years ago and since then had been working here and there as an announcer and event promoter. He was good at it and made a nice living for himself. He was also markedly dispassionate about his career. As long as summering in the Alps and wintering in Monaco with a woman on his arm kept him from hitting on her, Jessi didn’t really care what he did.