In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1)
Read In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Evie Anderson
Tags: #Contemporary, #Sports, #Romance
Evie Anderson
IN THE FAST LANE
Published by Evie Anderson
Edited by Val Hatfield, Finish the Story
Cover Design by May Sage
Copyright © 2016 Evie Anderson
All rights reserved. This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. All of the names of characters and incidents that bear any resemblance to actual people, places or events are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Push. Push. Push.
The mantra beat in time to the pounding in Jessi’s head. She felt the burn in her lungs with each gasp of air she took. The searing pain that started in her shoulder ripped through the rest of her arm with every pull of water. Finally, she hit the wall.
“Get out of the pool, Jess.”
Damn it.
Sawyer was worried. That was fair. Jessi Pruitt, Olympic gold medalist, America’s sweetheart, and best chance at gold in the upcoming Olympic Games, was worried too. Pulling off her goggles and swim cap, she looked up at Sawyer, her coach, mentor, and friend.
“That bad, huh?”
Sawyer sighed. “Yeah. It’s that bad.”
That was the thing about Sawyer—he gave it to you straight. Grabbing the wall, she pushed herself out of the pool and sat on the edge. Feet dangling in the water, head hanging in dejection, she felt like a kid who’d just disappointed her first coach.
Sawyer squatted down next to her, hands hanging between his knees. “We gotta do something different, kiddo. This just isn’t working.”
“It will, Sawyer. You can do it. You can fix this. Just give me more time.”
“We don’t have time, Jessi. We’re behind as it is. We’ve got two weeks before the Games, and Jess, you can’t win like this.”
“You’re the best, Sawyer. You’ll come up with something.” Jessi had complete faith in Sawyer’s ability. He was the most decorated Olympic athlete in the world. He’d won everything there was to win in the world of swimming and held all the world records... except for one. Dalton McKinney, Sawyer’s lifelong rival—and the person Jessi disliked most in this world—held the record for the 400 Individual Medley. Jessi did her best not to think about that.
Jessi knew Sawyer could fix her stroke. She fully admitted that sometimes her faith in him erred on the side of adoration, but it was well deserved. Eight years ago, he had mentored her through her first Olympics. She had been a teenage girl entering the international swimming world and it had been scary. Sawyer had celebrated with her when she’d won. He had also been there to pick up the pieces when she’d had her first heartbreak—thanks to the same Dalton McKinney. Sawyer would pick her up now, like always, when she needed it most.
Unfortunately, at the moment, he was looking down at the pool deck in resignation.
“Sawyer?” She’d never seen him like this before. His lack of confidence scared her.
“Jessi, I don’t know how to fix this. We’re out of options.”
“No. No, we aren’t.” She grabbed his arm and gave it a shake. “This will work itself out.”
“Jessi, your shoulder isn’t the same. It’s undergone reconstructive surgery. You pushed it too hard at trials—”
“I
won
at trials.”
“Exactly. You didn’t need to win. You needed to place. But that just doesn’t register with you, does it? It’s all or nothing. Now we’re sitting here with a strained shoulder, a shitty stroke, and a real possibility that you won’t make it out of the first heat, let alone medal. Jessi, I’m not kidding. We are
out
of options.”
“Well then, what the hell do you suggest?” Jessi rarely got mad at Sawyer, but they’d been at it for the last couple of days. They’d start practice out strong and then end up at each other’s throats. Clearly they were both desperate.
“What I suggest is that I start working with the rest of the team. I’m their head coach, after all. I can’t spend all my time coaching my pet swimmer.”
“What? Are you seriously saying this?” Apparently, it was the time of day to start going for the throat. Jessi ripped off her swim cap and slapped it on the deck. “I’ve never asked you to focus on me! I told you I could work it out, and you insisted that I need more help—”
“You do.”
“Fine. Go help the kids. I’m just a washed-up old lady anyway.”
“Oh my God.” Sawyer rolled his eyes at her. “Seriously? Stop with the crap. You’re not that kind of athlete.” He took a deep breath. “You’re not washed-up; you’re injured. You’re not old; you’re twenty-five and retiring so that you can start on the next phase of your life. You’ve also been swimming since before you could walk, and you’ve never once, not once, Jessi Pruitt, thrown a temper tantrum until now. So look at me, kid.” His voice had softened.
Jessi looked up at him. He was five years her senior, blond, blue-eyed, and beautiful. Confidence radiated off him. He had the medals to back up the attitude, and he was as sincere as they came.
“It’s time to bring in someone else,” he muttered.
“No.”
“Jessi—”
“I don’t like other coaches.”
“You like everyone.”
That was pretty much true. Jessi was a people person. She loved to smile and joke and have fun, but she could pout with the best of them. “Fine. But I only work well with you.”
Again, Sawyer sighed. “Maybe that’s just because we’ve worked together for too long. I’ve probably spoiled you.”
If by spoiling her he meant kicking her ass day in and day out for the last eight years... “You have not.”
“I’ve made it hard for you to work with other coaches.”
“Maybe, but don’t worry about it, Sawyer. I can fix this.” He was right about one thing—even though she hated to admit it, he spent way too much time working with her. It was his job to get the
team
ready for the Games, not just the girl he thought of as a kid sister. And if she was his little sister, he was her big brother. She owed it to him to fix this.
“I’ll fix it, Sawyer. You go work with the rest of the team.”
“How are you going to fix it?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Like I always do. Balls out until I slap the wall.” She grinned up at him.
“God, you’re just like him, aren’t you?”
Jessi’s smile immediately fell. “Like who?” Something cold and dark swept into her heart. She had a really good feeling she wasn’t going to like what Sawyer would say.
“You know who.”
“No, Sawyer Jameson, I do not. Why don’t you elaborate?”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re the best butterflyer the U.S. women’s team has ever had. You’re the best in the world, Jessi. It just makes sense—”
“Sawyer, I don’t like the way this conversation is going.” She tried not to panic as a horrible possibility solidified in her brain.
“I’m bringing Dalton McKinney in to coach you.”
Jessi felt herself go numb. Her body went still in the preternatural way bodies do right before everything goes to shit. “Oh,
hell
no.”
“Jessi, he’s the best at the butterfly.”
“No. He is not.” Jessi held on to her temper with everything she had. Taking a calming breath, she continued, “You are. You have the gold medals.”
Sawyer just stared at her.
Jessi took the last step from pissed to panicked. Dalton McKinney was the one man from her past that had no business in her present. He had quite thoroughly broken her heart when she was a young swimmer in her first Olympics. He had been young himself at the time, but more seasoned—and far more jaded. After a few short weeks of pouring their souls out to one another, he had promptly let her know she was no longer needed for emotional support. The bartender she had caught him screwing would apparently do nicely for that kind of thing.
Sawyer sighed and continued to stare her down. “I’m the most disciplined in the pool, Jessi. He’s the better swimmer.”
“Is not.”
“Jessi! Damn it, be a grown up here. It was a kiss, and it was eight years ago. Let it go. He broke your heart. I know—I was there. I was also there when you went to college and started dating and forgot all about him. Why in the hell do you still hold a grudge? It wasn’t that big a deal. This isn’t like you.”
“Do
not
insult me. It doesn’t matter why the hell I still hold a grudge. This is not happening. It was a big deal to me, and even if that is stupid, it’s my career. I’m the one who wants to go out with a bang—”
“Yes. And I’m the one trying to prove that I can handle being a head coach here. You think it’s easy being thirty and in charge of the U.S. Swim Team? You’re America’s goddamn sweetheart. No one cares about your damn shoulder. They want you to win. I have to deliver that.”
“So you’re going to bring in a playboy with a drinking problem? Smart, Sawyer. Way to prove your capabilities.”
“He’s not a drunk anymore.”
“Yeah, a tree fixed that little problem, didn’t it? How about the playboy part?” She’d been such an idiot to think that Dalton had ever loved her. His poorly timed peep show had helped nicely to alleviate her of that mental deficiency.
“Probably. Is that what bothers you? That he likes women a lot? That he just didn’t like you?”
Sawyer couldn’t know how much that hurt, even now. There was still a part of Jessi that was a young girl in love with a troubled boy. Cliché it might be, but the fact was, that part of Jessi—a part that she loathed—was simply the good girl attracted to a bad boy she thought she could change. She had worked damn hard to make that girl stay where she belonged—in the past. Jessi had been horribly and humiliatingly wrong about Dalton. She would not make the same mistake again.
“You are such a jerk.” She started to walk away.
“Stop right there. Like it or not, I’m your coach here, not your friend. You are going to do what I say, and you’re going to let some crush from eight years ago lie in the past where it belongs. You were a kid in puppy love. You’re a grown woman now. Act like it.”
Sawyer might have gone and lost his ever-loving mind about coaching, but he was right about that. She was an adult. Which meant she could pull a few punches of her own. “Sawyer, if you bring that man in here to coach me, I swear I will drop out of these damn Games.”