In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) (17 page)

“When do you swim here? I haven’t seen you in the pool.” That was something she would truly enjoy watching. He was a beautiful swimmer, surgery notwithstanding. His strokes were long, clean, and smooth.

“Sawyer and I work out in the mornings before you all get down to the pool.”

“That’s got to be at like, four-thirty in the morning!” Morning person or not, Jessi hated getting up for practice. She couldn’t imagine getting up any earlier than she already did.

“More like five, but yeah, it still sucks. That’s why you guys work with the assistant coaches early in the morning. The schedule varies, but we try to lift while you guys eat breakfast, use the time to plan out the day, and then...well, you know the rest.”

She could imagine the two of them working out side by side. That had to be a thing of beauty. They both stood somewhere around six feet, four inches. Height was a plus in swimming. The simple fact was that taller people needed fewer strokes to get where they were going.

While Sawyer and Dalton were both fit, Dalton was bulkier. Sawyer’s body was more ripcord lean. The two body types had their advantages and disadvantages. Dalton’s bulkier form could pull more water, but his larger muscles also caused him to sink. He had to work harder to propel himself through the water than the leaner, less muscular Sawyer. Still, it was pretty much a wash as to who had the advantage. Speaking of which...

“Do you guys race?” She tried to keep the amusement out of her voice, but her lips twitched.

“Of course.”

“Who wins?” She wasn’t bothering to hide how funny she thought this was any longer.

Dalton glared down at her. “We swim in Lane 1 and Lane 10,” he grumbled.

Jessi burst out laughing. The two idiots were over thirty years old for Christ’s sake and still racing like they were twenty. They had literally separated themselves by the
entire
width of the pool, no doubt just to keep the peace. Jessi couldn’t help herself.

“Who benches more?”

Dalton snorted. “Please. You’ve seen Sawyer’s scrawny ass.”

“I have, and I will tell you what. It isn’t scrawny.”

“Is my woman looking at other men’s asses?”

“Your woman?” Jessi looked up at him, a little startled.

Dalton sighed and leaned back to run a hand through his hair. Finally, he nodded to himself. “Jess, let’s face it. You’ve been mine since we started working together. And before you get all upset,” he added quickly, “I’ve sure as hell been your man, because I gotta tell you, I’ve been trying to keep my hands off you from day one. For a man who has trouble focusing, your ass has caused me all kinds of trouble.”

Jessi smiled at that. “Yeah?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he replied, just as softly. He kissed her then and smoothed back her hair. “Now, let me see your boobs. I wanna look at ‘em naked.”

She laughed and tried to squirm away. His ability to lighten any situation always amazed her. The seriousness of the moment had been forgotten just like he’d probably intended. Neither of them appeared eager to discuss the larger implications of their actions. Happy—for the moment—to acquiesce, Jessi rolled over and started to push herself up.

Just as she started to rise, Dalton reached out and grabbed her butt. “God, you’ve got the tightest little ass.”

Jessi smiled and blushed. She loved that he liked her butt. It
was
tight and little. She worked damn hard for that muscle, and it was nice to have it appreciated. So when Dalton continued to do just that, Jessi let him look—and touch—at his leisure. “Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off this, watching you walk around in a suit all day?” He squeezed appreciatively.

Jessi laughed. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Well, Coach, get your fill because tomorrow is going to come early, and I have a feeling you’re not going to let up on me just because I gave you head.”

“Probably not,” Dalton admitted. “But you can give it a shot.”

She squealed as he pulled her on top of him. It was going to be a very long night.

Chapter 16

Jessi was exhausted. She was also pissed. She hadn’t expected Dalton to treat her any differently in the pool—she was well aware he couldn’t let on that they were sleeping together. That didn’t mean he had to act like a jackass.

He’d left her room early that morning to meet Sawyer for their morning workout. Just like he’d said, she didn’t see him until after breakfast started. He was decked out in his coach’s get up: dark blue sweats with a white line down the side; dark blue T-shirt that was nicely straining over his biceps, damn it; and bare toes in rubber flip flops because no one wore real shoes with socks on a pool deck. Dalton wouldn’t be caught dead in
Crocs
.

Without so much as a “Morning, Jess,” he’d gruffly given her instructions on what she was supposed to warm up with. His eyes never left his clipboard. In fact, he hadn’t looked at her at all since he’d kissed her goodbye on floor of her room. What an ass.

Jessi made it through morning warm-ups with a serious chip on her shoulder. Because of her anger, she swam too fast. Dalton had yelled at her for not pacing herself. He had asked how in the hell she thought she was going to make it through her afternoon workout.

She had ripped her goggles off her head and slapped them onto the water. “Let me worry about that. You just focus on the other swimmers, like usual.”

It was a patently unfair statement. The majority of Dalton’s attention—and his job—was focused on her. That made her even more upset.
His
job. His woman. After one night! His, his, his. Well screw that.

For the rest of practice, she kept her head down and busted tail. The noise in her head filled the quiet peace she usually found as she glided through the water. When practice ended, she hurtled herself out of the pool and headed toward the locker room.

“Jessi, how does the shoulder feel?”

Well, well, well. It was Mr. Dalton McKinney, here to push her around again.

“Fine,” she clipped out.

“Make sure the trainer works on it. You swam like an idiot today.” Dalton’s voice was full of authority.

Jessi snapped. Who the hell did he think he was? He was the freakin’ screwup here, not her. “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away.

Before she could take a step, Jessi felt a hand clamp down on her arm in a vice-like grip. She looked up at Dalton, shocked out of her pissed off inner ranting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she seethed. “Take your hand off me, Dalton. You’re going to cause a scene.”

“You’re already causing a scene, and this is exactly what a coach would do to a swimmer who was mouthing off.” His voice was low but menacing, and his eyes were glaring daggers into hers. “Knock it off.
Now
. We’ll talk after we view tape. Get your ass to physical therapy.”

He let her arm go roughly and walked off. Jessi covertly glanced around the pool. Dalton was right. People were staring. They were looking at her like she was the crazy person in this situation. Jessi wasn’t used to feeling that way. Everybody looked up to her. She was reliable. She was one of the team captains, for crying out loud. She was America’s Olympic Sweetheart, goddamn it!

She mustered up what dignity she had and calmly walked into the locker room. She showered and dried herself off in a daze. Then she headed to her physical therapy session. She didn’t know what was going on with her. She felt wild and out of control. Dalton had that effect on her. He always had. She needed to find a way to control it this time.

What the hell was going on with Jessi
? Dalton made his way up to the observation deck to meet with Sawyer. He had no idea if Sawyer had witnessed their little scene down there, but Dalton would bet money that he had.

Shit. How was he going to explain this? He had no idea what Jessi’s deal was, but she was being ridiculous. And in front of everyone. He supposed, at this point, it would be better if he just told Sawyer the truth.

When he made it to the top of the stairs, he peeked into the observation room. Sawyer wasn’t there. Relief washed over him. Despite his intentions, telling the truth in the face of authority didn’t come naturally to him. His years as a punk had taught him to never explain himself until he absolutely had to. When that time came, he needed to be sure of what he was going to say. Since he had no idea what he and Jessi were doing, he had no fucking clue what he would tell Sawyer.

Dalton’s head was spinning. At this precise moment, he wished he was on the medication that would keep him from wanting to do everything at once. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Usually, he’d lash out when he was pissed off or confused, just because there was so much going on in his head as he tried to make sense of the problem.

If he could just control this for a second, things would start to make sense. Dalton knew that. He closed his eyes to shut out the rest of the world. In this moment of self-clarity, he realized something very disturbing. He was being the rational one here. Shit. How fucked up was that?

Dalton turned and headed back down to the pool. If Sawyer wasn’t up here, there was no reason for him to be. Plus, he needed to be down by the pool in case people were talking about his and Jessi’s little scene.

Keeping this thing quiet was going to be hard. Dalton wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort. At the moment, it seemed to be driving both him and Jessi nuts. The last thing they needed was more tension between them, the pool, and the gold medal.

Chapter 17

Jessi finished her physical therapy and headed toward Dalton and the film room. She tried to make the journey last as long as it could. Anger came with its own hangover. Right now, she felt like an idiot with a headache. After stopping to chat with anyone and everyone who crossed her path, Jessi could no longer put off talking with Dalton.

When she reached the film room, she took a moment to steel herself and stepped inside. As soon as she closed the door, Dalton lit in on her. He’d been sitting in his normal seat, but when he saw her come into the room, he stood up and walked over to her. He didn’t waste his time on pleasantries.

“What the hell is going on here, Jessi?” That comment alone made her upset. How could he not know?

“What’s wrong with me? I’m not the one being a jerk, Dalton.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure that was you throwing shit and mouthing off down there.” Dalton pointed in the general direction of the pool to emphasize his point, as if she might be mixing up the various locations of her little tirades.

“You were being an ass! You didn’t even acknowledge me this morning, you worked me harder than anyone else, and then you yelled at me.” She paused. “And I didn’t
throw
anything!” Jessi took a moment to calm herself. She was not going to lose it. “I put my goggles down in the water...hard. I admit they may have slapped the surface.” She tilted her head to the side and nodded gently, conceding that she may have been a bit rough with her goggles. But that was it. That was all she was admitting to.

“Jessi, I didn’t treat you any differently than I have any other day. You and I have always had a love-hate relationship in the pool, and today was just standard operating procedure. I can’t all of a sudden start treating you differently, or people are going to ask questions. And yes, I work you harder than the rest. You are better than the rest. But you’re also older, and you’re hurt, and I’m here to make sure you win.”

“I am
not
hurt!” Jessi was so sick of being coddled, and she was sure as hell tired of the veiled references to her age. She was twenty-five for Christ’s sake! “And I’m not old,” she said in a small voice.

“Yeah, baby, you are,” he said softly. His hand came up to cup her face.

“Don’t you
‘baby’
me,” she pouted, but didn’t jerk her head away.

“Okay, I won’t,” Dalton said carefully, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “But I’m not going to lie to you, Jessi. You can hate me all you want, but I will always be honest with you. It’s my job, as your coach and otherwise. You wouldn’t want it any other way.” He stared at her, forcing her to maintain eye contact.