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I continue on my way down the hall, passing classrooms and then the gym, turning a corner to head toward the door closest to the staff parking lot, and I hear a whistle blow, muffled behind glass doors that are fogged over. The door to the indoor swimming pool where the swim team practices. I don’t know Nate’s practice schedule, but knowing he’s the star of the team, I can’t help but wonder if he’s in there. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I push the door open and step inside, the humidity of the huge room making me take in a thick breath that smells like chlorine, instantly feeling clammy.
I step farther in, seeing four or five bodies sail through the water, nothing but their black swim caps and goggles visible besides their powerful arms pulling them to the opposite side of the pool. Coach Gauntt sits on a diving board, her whistle between her lips and a stopwatch in her hand. When the swimmers reach the end nearest her, she blows the whistle in a short, loud burst and then reads off the time, and I see two of the athletes high-five before they all pull themselves out of the water using the cement edge.
I recognize Nate’s body instantly, even though his sexy hair is covered in the black swim cap and his eyes are covered in goggles. He’s several inches taller than everyone else, and I feel my face heat when my eyes lower to his black Speedo, my heart doing a little flip knowing exactly what he’s packing inside the black material. Even from an Olympic-size pool of distance, his body makes mine tingle, especially now that I’ve felt what it can do to me. He’s like a magnet, and my feet move me closer to him without my telling them to do so. I’m more than halfway to him when I’m stopped in my tracks.
“Evie?” I hear a female voice call my name, and my eyes pull up to Coach Gauntt’s position on the diving board. “You need something, hun?”
My mouth parts, and all that comes out is a stupid-sounding “Uhhh…” as my eyes go back to Nate, who has turned my way, and he lifts his goggles from his eyes, letting them sit on top of his cap. His lips twisting in a little smirk makes my pussy clench.
“You okay, Evie?” Coach Gauntt prompts again, and the last thing I want is for one of my coworkers to think I’m some kind of idiot, so I spit out the first thing that pops into my head.
“Um… yeah. I was just wondering if the pool has open swim hours. I uh… my gym doesn’t have an indoor one, and it’s gotten too cold to use the outdoor one.” That sounded believable, right? I mean, I don’t even go to a gym, but surely that would be a thing. At least I hope so.
“Oh, yeah, sweetie. Right there on the wall.” She points to the other side of the pool to where there’s a bulletin board covered in papers.
I nod and head back the way I’d come, turning the corner at the end of the pool and squeezing my planner tighter to my chest when I feel his eyes following me.
The sound of Coach Gauntt’s whistle makes me jump, and I hurry faster to the board when I hear her yell, “Next up, boys!”
“Hey, Ms. Richards,” one of my sweeter students greets me as I pass by where they’re lining up to start their race.
“Good luck, Alex,” I reply quietly, and make my way closer to the bulletin board. When I finally reach it, I let out the breath I’d been holding and force myself to focus and look for the pool hours, even though I have absolutely no intention of ever coming here to swim.
Two things happen at once that nearly make me jump out of my skin.
Coach Gauntt blows her whistle loud and drawn out, and at the same time a long, muscled arm reaches over my shoulder, a hot and tall wet body stepping up behind me as Nathaniel points to a small rectangular sign on the corkboard, and I squeak, jerking around to face him. He towers over me, especially when I’m in my flats, and with every single one of his muscles on display, and with that darkly hungry look in his heart stoppingly gorgeous eyes, I step back into the wall, squeezing my leather planner to my chest like my life depends on it.
He lowers his voice, looking me in the eyes. “This looks very precarious, little mouse.” I swallow at his words. “Turn back around and act like what I’m saying is interesting as fuck.”
My inner muscles squeeze, enough to show me I’m not nearly as sore I was yesterday. I do as he says without pause, feeling the water droplets from his chest sink into my shirt at the top of my shoulders, and I shudder.
