In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1)

by Evie Anderson

  Sawyer’s little bit of news had put the nail in his coffin. Yes, he was pissed that Lemaitre would be messing with his schedule. But mostly, he really hated the thought of Jessi spending an hour or two every night rehashing old stories and remembering good times with a guy that had meant a lot more to her than Dalton ever had.

  Yep, he was attracted to Jessi. His reaction to Lemaitre’s presence couldn’t be explained as anything else. He’d just have to deal with it. Jessi was his swimmer, and his most important duty was to make sure she was in optimal shape when they headed to Canada. Beyond that, she wasn’t and couldn’t be anything more.

  With that settled, he turned around to find his own office. He couldn’t do a fucking thing about the two of them hanging out together. Still...he would be damned if he let Lemaitre weasel his sneaky little French ass into his best swimmer’s suit.

  Chapter 10

  “Can you believe I’m working with Claudel for the next week?” Jessi stared dubiously at Dalton.

  “Trust me. Not my idea.” Dalton’s voice was gruff. His eyebrows were drawn in an annoyed scowl. He was all pissed off coach, which, unfortunately for her sanity, was kinda hot.

  “Well, then why am I doing it? Don’t you have the final say in my schedule?”

  Dalton tilted his head and gave her a look that simply said, “Really?”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Golden Boy and Allie seem to think it will be fine, so you’ll be meeting with him every afternoon after practice. If it’s messing with your swimming, just say so. I’ll figure out a way to pull the plug.” A hopeful look entered his eyes.

  Jessi couldn’t help but laugh at this man-child standing in front of her. He was sexy as hell and cute as a button all at the same time. It wasn’t fair, really. Shaking off these unhelpful thoughts, she patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Coach. I’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever,” Dalton huffed. He was clearly unhappy with the situation but coming to terms with it. “All right. I gotta go yell at some kids. Have fun with your interviews—and be good.” He pointed at her for emphasis.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m onto the bastard. I know what that little ass is up to. Don’t give him an inch.”

  Jessi giggled. “Really? Seriously?”

  Dalton didn’t say anything, just stared at her.

  “Okay, Daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

  Dalton pursed his lips, then turned to leave. “Not your dad,” he sing-songed over his shoulder.

  Didn’t she know it. Jessi shook her head and headed for her interview. She wasn’t excited, but at the same time, she wasn’t as put out as Dalton was. As long as this didn’t mess up her schedule, she was good with it.

  Fifteen minutes later, she regretted ever laying eyes on Claudel Lemaitre. He’d been flirty before, but now, when they were alone, he was downright obnoxious. At the moment, Jessi was fending off a pair of dark blue bedroom eyes that peeked out of what were, admittedly, really good, shaggy blond bangs. She needed to ask Claudel where he was getting his hair cut—probably at some thousand-dollar-a-service spa located on the Spanish Mediterranean coast. Ugh.

  “I’m sorry, Claudel, I wasn’t listening. Can you repeat that?” Jessi asked.

  “You seem preoccupied, chéri.”

  “Knock it off with the accent, Claudel. It’s not like that right now,” Jessi replied with a scolding look. Despite Sawyer’s mocking criticism of Claudel’s voice, particularly when he watched film where Claudel was announcing, Claudel really didn’t have much of an accent when speaking English. He’d spent a lot of time in the States. The accent was for her benefit, or whomever he was trying to sleep with at any given moment. Given his current inability to pronounce consonants, the honor appeared to be all hers.

  Her annoyance surprised her a bit. Claudel had always been handsy. She had known that from the first day she’d met him. He had also always been particularly handsy with her. His flirting was nothing new. It shouldn’t bother her now at all. It was just...not Dalton’s flirting. Oh, shit.

  Claudel’s shoulders shook as he laughed to himself. Even that little movement annoyed Jessi. This was bad.

  He gave her a sardonic grin that made her cringe and replied, “Does that mean I can hope that it will be like that later?”

  Oh, that was so gross. In comparison to Dalton, every cocky thing that came out of this man’s mouth was just...creepy. “No. We’re done with that, Claudel,” she said firmly, trying to regain some control on her reeling thoughts. “You know that. Right now, I’ve got to focus on swimming.” Not sexy coaches she had no business thinking about. “I’m more than happy to work with you on this exposé, but that’s all we are doing right now. As for later, we agreed the last time was the last time. Besides, that one was just...stupid.”

  “Hmmm. We were certainly drunk and maybe a little stupid, yes. But I seem to remember it being pretty hot and wet.” Claudel grinned at her with a flirty expression. “I also seem to remember that I agreed to nothing and you always seem to come back for more. Face it, Jessi, you can’t get enough of me.”

  If she had ever had any warm and fuzzy memories of their relationship, they’d just been dashed. She did not need this right now. What she needed was someone to throw her a bone. Here she was, doing her best to get Dalton McKinney out of her head, and the powers that be had thrown her a sad excuse for a man who just highlighted all the things she really, really liked about Dalton.

  Jessi tilted her head and glared at Claudel. “You do realize how egotistical you sound, don’t you? Does that actually work for you?” She could not comprehend why grown women found him so irresistible. Her excuse was that she’d been young when they’d dated and it had always been about having fun.

  “Yes, Jessi, my dear, I do. And yes, as you know, it does. But fine, we won’t talk about sex right now. I’ll keep things professional while we are shooting this exposé. However, make no mistake, when we are done, it is game on. We are far from finished.”

  It was always a little humorous to hear Claudel say things like “it is game on” when he was trying to be tough. “Claudel, I am not talking with you about this right now. If you want this exposé, you better start focusing your interview on that. Otherwise, I’m pulling the plug.”

  Claudel huffed a bit, but at the end of the day, his ego took over and the inner player within rose up. He affected nonchalance at her rebuff. They started talking about the outline of the project and the way the network wanted it to go. The whole thing would be a nostalgic recap of her career. Jessi Pruitt: Then and Now.

  “All right, Claudel. I’m good with the layout. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  Claudel rose with her as she stood to leave. “I look forward to it, my dear.” He kissed both of her cheeks in what should have been a customary goodbye gesture. Claudel, of course, made it creepy.

  Resisting the urge to wipe off her face, she hustled away from the crazy little man and toward her upcoming viewing session with Dalton. Why, in dear God’s name, did she have to be so excited for the latter?

  So far, said sessions had proven to be exercises of hours in frustration, sexual and otherwise. Yet, here she was, gladly taking those hours over and above even a few minutes alone with Claudel. The fact that she was looking forward to seeing Dalton bothered her to no end. She wanted him. There was no other explanation.

  As usual, Dalton was waiting for her. Currently manning the control panel with a serious frown, he was rewinding and reviewing the same twenty-five meters of her butterfly over and over again. Taking a moment to enjoy the view, she watched as he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and tilted his head. Then he squinted as if that would make the answer somehow appear to him. He looked so damn cute, all serious and brooding. Despite herself, she burst out laughing.

  Dalton snapped his gaze over to her. “Something funny, Pruitt?”

  “Nope, just watching you go crazy over my crappy str
oke.” It was getting better, but she still lacked consistency. She finally allowed herself to walk into the room. This wasn’t the first time she’d enjoyed watching him in the viewing room, but today she’d found herself standing in that doorframe a little longer than the day before.

  Dalton stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Well, knock it off and get over here. I’ve got a killer practice planned, and we’re behind schedule.”

  Dalton looked good stretching. His body was strong and lean, and Jessi wanted it. “Back hurt?” she croaked out.

  “Everything hurts. Believe it or not, bending over to yell at you all takes it out of a guy. I need a massage something fierce.”

  Jessi needed a breather. She jerked her eyes away from his abs of steel only to have them land on his heartbreaking face. Dalton’s strong cheek bones created wonderfully bold facial features. His remarkably large, see-through blue eyes had been put in with a sooty finger. Long, dark lashes almost created the illusion of eyeliner. Totally unfair.

  “You’re quiet, Pruitt. That little French reporter piss you off?”

  Then of course, there was his mouth. When it wasn’t flinging out vulgarities, it was actually quite beautiful. She imagined if he was using the right vulgarities it could be down-right orgasmic.

  “What are you staring at? Do I have something on my face?”

  “Sorry, I was just taking in Mr. Serious at work,” she lied. “It’s nice to see you so focused.” Watching Dalton work was undeniably sexy.

  Jessi decided it was best if she stopped looking at him. She hustled the rest of the way to her chair, sat down, and willed herself to keep her eyes off the baby face that had won the hearts of women all over the world, including her own back in the day. The man was a walking, talking cologne ad and dangerous as hell.

  “So, how’s it looking today?” She nodded toward the screen.

  He stared at her a bit longer as if trying to figure out what was up with her. Then, perhaps deciding that question was a lost cause, he promptly returned his attention to the screen without a word.

  Dalton took the cursor back to the previous fifty yards of her stroke and pushed the play button on the screen again. “Okay, right here. Do you see that, Jess?”

  Jess. He never called her Jess. Other people—like her friends—did, but not Dalton. Is that what they were? Friends? Why did that seem so grossly inadequate?

  Dalton had been many things to her throughout the years—obsession, crush, villain, heartbreaker, and yes, once he had been her friend—but now, something as innocuous as “friends” didn’t seem to come close to describing their relationship.

  “Are you listening?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jessi said, shaking her head to clear it. “I got preoccupied for a second there.”

  Dalton raised an eyebrow.

  She laughed and replied, “Yes, even I get distracted sometimes.”

  “Not you. Not the teacher’s pet. You’re supposed to be my good girl,” Dalton snorted.

  She really didn’t like that. “Whatever, Dalton.” She said it lightly, but still didn’t enjoy being treated like his swimmer. Which, of course, was exactly what she was.

  “Okay, enough chitchat. Now we’ve got to focus on this hot mess of a fly. Look here, on your second fifty. You start to pull to the left, just a little. I think you’re getting tired, or at least starting to feel strain. Let’s focus on that today. I’ll look for the pull and stop you. You tell me right then what you’re feeling.”

  “By stop me, I assume you mean that you’ll throw your water bottle at me,” Jessi said dryly.

  “Yep.”

  Dalton went back to the tape. One of her other coaches came in shortly after, and Dalton spent the rest of their time talking with him about practice.

  Jessi stayed quiet for the rest of the session, letting the two coaches talk it out. She couldn’t shake the sense of...something...that she felt with Dalton right now. There was something there that wasn’t hate, or disappointment, or pity, or, for that matter, obsession. None of those unhealthy feelings were with her now. Now she just felt camaraderie, respect, and a shared desire to win. Maybe that was what this new friendship was between her and Dalton.

  Unfortunately, Jessi was also disturbingly aware that she didn’t think what she was feeling was friendship. They had never been able to keep their hands on that side of the line. Now she was fighting to win gold. Jessi couldn’t afford to cross that boundary again.

  Chapter 11

  Dalton stopped Jessi as she headed for the locker room after practice. “Jess, hold on a sec.” He grabbed her arm to turn her toward him. “You were quiet in our film session today. What’s going on?”

  Jessi raised an eyebrow. “Why? Am I normally talkative?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t call you effusive when we watch tape, but you usually have more to say than what you did today. I’d say today you were downright contemplative.”

  “Canada’s coming up. I get quiet when I get closer to the Games.”

  “That’s not it. I’d be fricking ecstatic if you were thinking about the Games. You’re not. I don’t know what’s in your head, but you ought to be worried. We have a hell of a lot of work to do.”

  Something altogether different from Jessi’s reclusiveness was bothering Dalton too. As he watched her try to weasel her way out of the situation, he became increasingly aware of how beautiful she was. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that before, of course, but the thing about Jessi was, she was always moving. She never stopped long enough to let anyone get too much time. Today, however, he’d had the distinct pleasure of observing Jessi at ease, in the solitude of her own thoughts. It had been a heartbreakingly beautiful sight, if not a bit worrisome.

  She looked even better now than she did walking into the film room. Her damp hair was drying fast and was starting to spring into that ridiculous riot of bright blond sunshine that framed her sweet face and swept down to the middle of her back. Looking down at her scowling face, he smiled to himself. Jessi still looked seventeen sometimes. But mostly she didn’t. Mostly, she had matured into an achingly beautiful and confident woman.

  “Very eloquent, Coach. Thanks for the pep talk,” she replied tersely. She shifted and looked at the floor, as if trying to put a name on what she was feeling. Suddenly her head popped up and she blurted out, “Why are you calling me ‘Jess’?”

  “Uh, because that is your name?”

  “No, my name is Jessi.”

  That kind of hurt. “Okay. Let me try again.” Dalton cleared his throat as if getting ready to recite lines for a play. “Hey Jessiiiiiiii,” he exaggerated, earning him an eye roll that only egged him on. “Hold up a second, please. I’d like to speak with you, if you don’t mind,” he added in a formal tone.

  She rolled her eyes once again, popped her hip to one side, and pursed her lips, but this time she was trying to suppress a smile. “God, you are an idiot,” she said.

  “I know,” he replied, grinning like the little shit that he was.

  She went to playfully hit his arm, but he caught her hand before she could make contact. Their playful mood changed abruptly. He couldn’t say what made him hold her hand tighter and draw her closer to him, while at the same time grabbing her hip to put her in contact with the lower parts of his anatomy.

  He hadn’t moved by any conscious thought, but instead from instinct. If this were another situation and another woman, he’d continue the little game, teasing her a bit more before he proceeded to kiss the hell out of her. As it was, he was standing in the middle of the Olympic training facility, and the woman he was messing with was the nation’s best shot for a gold medal, not to mention the kid whose heart he’d broken. Oh, and the swimmer he was coaching. Fuck.

  “Jessi...” Dalton let the sentence trail off. He didn’t know what he wanted to say anyway. He definitely wanted to proceed with the festivities, but he knew he had to let her go, even if his cock had an entirely different game plan in the works.
/>   “Dalton, you need to let me go. We agreed. We can’t do this.”

  Her face was serious, but her voice was barely a whisper, and Dalton noticed she wasn’t pulling away. There was also a hint of fear in her eyes. She wasn’t afraid of him though. He could tell by her breathing and the liquid state of what were normally very taut muscles. She was afraid because she felt something too. A thrill shot through him, but damn, he needed to get off her now. This was a really bad situation.

  “Is this why you were quiet today?” He asked the question while staring into eyes the exact color of the pool she swam in.

  “Look, I don’t...God...Ugh!” she stated with extreme frustration. “I don’t know,” she muttered quickly, glancing down at the floor. Jessi paused and then jerked her head up, looking directly into his eyes. “Don’t think that it’s like it was before. It’s not,” she stated vehemently. “I’m not a stupid kid who thinks she’s in love with you.”

  “I know. I know, okay. I’m not...it’s not like that for me either. But, Jessi, it’s something, isn’t it?”

  Dalton didn’t know if it was because he was asking her for once, rather than highhandedly assuming he knew the score, but for some reason, she cut him some slack.

  “Yeah. It’s something. But it can’t be anything. It’s probably because we’re working together as adults who have history and haven’t seen each other in a long time. It’s just, I don’t know, the need for closure or something.”

  He let go of her hand. He needed to. There was no good explanation for the way they were touching each other should anyone walk by. She was hands-the-fuck-off.

  “I don’t think this has anything to do with closure. In fact, I don’t think this has anything to do with eight years ago. At least not for me.”

  “Of course it doesn’t. Eight years ago, you didn’t give a shit about me.”

  “Not true.” He held up a figure to emphasize his point. “I cared about you very much. Just not the way you wanted me to.”