AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Darcy Rowsthorn has a plan: Graduate high school, then college, then become the world’s greatest sports journalist. That is, until she is assigned an interview with Kane Bryson, Fankirth High’s swim team captain. She has no room for dark, handsome boys with olympic sized ambitions, but his quick humor and dark past—so eerily similar to her own—have her second guessing everything.
CHAPTER 1
The humidity was smothering as I pushed through the double-doored entrance. I could almost feel my hair standing on end in protest. Who would choose to spend their time in this environment? Chlorine burned my nostrils, and I flinched as a sharp whistle broke the rhythmic slap of many hands on the surface of water.
I looked toward the diving blocks to see a perfectly carved body slice through the air and land in the pool with barely a splash. He surfaced past the flags strung from one side of the pool to the other, and powered through the water like he was made to be there.
And he was.
Kane Bryson was captain of Fankirth High’s swim team for a reason.
Pointedly turning my attention away from how his muscled shoulders rolled in an easy stroke, I made my way toward the whistle wielder. Coach Turner was a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and the build of a former athlete who had softened under the weight of time and apathy.
I smoothed my palms down my skirt and, with a deep breath, marched up to the gatekeeper of the man I was here to see.
“Coach Turner,” I said, extending my hand professionally. He glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the pool. Forgetting the handshake, I took a step in front of him and looked into his face, trying to meet his eyes. He wasn’t particularly tall, but at five-foot-three, I had to crane my neck to see most people.
“Coach Turner, I’m Darcy Rowsthorn. Miss Flint said she spoke to you about an interview with Kane Bryson for the school paper?”
“Still fifteen minutes left in the pool. Wait in the stands and he’ll speak to you when I’m done with him.”
He didn’t bother to drop his gaze while he spoke.
I refused to be deterred. All the best journalists had to face difficult interview conditions, and one day, I would be the best.
With as much dignity as I could muster, I marched past him to take up a spot in the bleachers. If I flipped him the bird behind his back, surely no one could blame me.
Thirty minutes later, I watched the ink on my English paper smear under a rain of water droplets. Towering over me in tiny, skin-tight swim shorts, moisture dripping down ribbed abdominals right at my eye level, was Kane Bryson. I licked my lips before I could stop myself and looked way up into laughing brown eyes.
“Do you mind?” I asked, scowling as I flicked water from my homework.
“Not at all.”
Shit. He had dimples.
“You’re late.”
In all honesty, it wasn’t as though I had anything better to do, but he was throwing me off-kilter. No teenage boy should have that much muscle. Especially if he was going to stand so close to me.
His lips spread into a smile I didn’t appreciate. At all. Really, I didn’t.
“I came as soon as I could. Sorry if you have other places to be.”
“Do you want a towel or something?”
He stretched, glancing around as though surprised to find himself almost naked.
Those black shorts really were snug. They fit so nicely around his... I was looking at his crotch. Shit. I had to look away.
“I’m fine as I am. Thanks for your concern,” he said, sliding into the seat beside me.
I let out a slow breath through my nose as my ears burned.
Professional. I could be professional.
I tucked my wet homework into my schoolbag and pulled out my latest notebook. This one was purple and black with a beautiful galaxy pattern across the cover. I knew I had an unhealthy obsession with my notebooks, but it was always important to be prepared when you were a journalist.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
