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“I’m going to go make some changes to your schedule.” I strode toward the door, waiting to put down the clipboard until I’d turned my back to her. “I’ll be seeing you later tonight.”
“What?” I could hear her say before the door closed behind me.
Whatever the male form of a diva was, sure, you could call me that. But I had a lot riding on this next month. And it wasn’t just me. My teammates were relying on me, countless companies wanting product placements, the PR crew working the games. Hell, millions of fans worldwide were counting on me to win.
All eyes were on me, the boy who’d almost drowned, now the man swimming for gold. I knew exactly what I needed to do to reach my goal. My coaches, my teammates, my rigorous, relentless training schedule.
And Emma. All to myself. Any time. Morning, noon or night.
I wasn’t going to share. She would not be working with any other members of the team. I didn’t expect much pushback from our team managers, and definitely not from the coaches. The fact that I’d found a physical therapist so good I wanted her all to myself? They’d probably high five each other. Especially since I could bankroll any additional expense. I’d cover the cost of hiring on a replacement for the remaining team members, no problem.
Emma was mine.
CHAPTER 3
Emma
I didn’t know what, exactly, I’d expected from meeting the famous Chase Carter, but that wasn’t it. I stood in the therapy room re-folding towels, waiting for my next client. The towels didn’t need rearranging, but I needed something to do instead of pace the floor while I tried to take stock of what had just happened.
No, Chase wasn’t warm and fuzzy. He did not give me a big bear hug and welcome me into the swim family. Nor did he tell me how excited he was to be working with me. That all fit with his reputation for being cool and laser-focused on his goal of gold.
But he hadn’t struck me as a jerk. I hadn’t felt treated like a menial hand-servant, beneath his notice. Instead, I’d felt as if he were intensely aware of me, hyper-observant of everything I said and did. And he’d seemed deeply appreciative of the work I did on him. So much so that he wanted more time with me on his schedule.
Why did that make me shiver with anticipation? I told myself it was just nerves. I’d have to put that time to good use. Extracting secrets, getting into his past, searching for the exclusive story he’d never told a soul.
But it felt like more than that.
The way he’d looked at me, so possessive and hungry, as if he were going to devour me. I must have been imagining it. It was probably my nerves, struggling with feeling duplicitous. I was who I said I was—a licensed and experienced physical and massage therapist fully capable of working with him over the next month. But I was also more than that.
It wasn’t as if I were after a smear story. Tori was the one who was all about the colorful splash. I wanted a story with depth and heart. I’d only spent a half hour with the man, and I could already feel he had a lot of both. The powerful charisma he radiated was almost palpable. What made him tick? Why was he so passionately driven? Why had he kept on with swimming, every day taking the plunge into water after almost drowning? Now I wanted to know more than ever.
My phone blipped with a text.
Tori: How’d it go? You just met him, right?
Oh, so now she started paying close attention to time! I rolled my eyes, but as much as Tori exasperated me with her typically laissez-faire, party-till-you-drop attitude, I loved her. Together, we’d been through thick and thin. We were both 25 now, but I still saw the scrawny nine-year-old inside her, wide-eyed and freaked out as her parents screamed, threw things and ultimately divorced. Technically, Tori had lived two doors down from us in Vero Beach, but she’d pretty much moved in with us that year and never looked back. My mom got in the habit of setting an extra place for Tori at dinner without even asking, and the two of us had been joined at the hip ever since.
Even if sometimes my hip hurt from it. Like when Tori drank too much and needed a ride from some guy’s house but didn’t know exactly where she was. Or when she dragged me into one of her schemes, usually involving a guy she was after, or mad at, or both. But Tori was just Tori and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. We shared a little apartment together, as we had for the past three years. Sometimes other roommates got into the mix as well, but the one constant was always Tori.
I texted her back.
Emma: I think OK. He wants more time with me.
She sent me a few thumbs-up emojis. Tori had never met an emoji she didn’t love. A few more popped up on my screen, a flexed bicep muscle, a tongue lolling out of a mouth, a guy swimming. Then she asked the question I knew she had on her mind.
Tori: How hot is he????
A strange possessive growl formed in my throat. Back off, Tori, my fingers twitched to write. I didn’t want her all up in his grill.
But that made no sense. First, he wasn’t mine to warn her away from. Second, even if Tori wanted to jump him—and that’s exactly what I knew she would do the second she got the chance—I shouldn’t care. Tori was just being herself, young and fun and after a good time. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on the international parade of hotness known as Olympic athletes.
And holy hell was Chase hot. I still felt all tingling and alive, the pheromones rushing through my body. The feel of massaging his broad back, those incredible, powerful muscles. He’d felt so good under my hands, so warm and hard and right. I’d wanted to keep right on going, rubbing him, giving him exactly what he needed, taking such good care of him. Only the 30-minute timer I’d set had started flashing at me. I usually didn’t lose track of time, but rubbing Chase I could have gone on and on for hours.
I finally texted back with an honest answer. She was my BFF, after all. She’d see right through me in a heartbeat if I tried to deny it.
Emma: Off the charts
I waited for her reply, half expecting her to tell me she was on her way to San Antonio. We weren’t supposed to see each other again until Rio in three weeks. She was traveling there before me as part of the PR team, but she’d been known to make a change in plans for a hottie before. Especially a hottie of epic proportions.
But the next text I got wasn’t from her. It was from an unknown number.
Extra session tonight at suite 18. 7pm.
Who was it? What did they mean by an extra session? Was someone trying to ask me if I was available at the end of a long day of clients for another session?
Emma: Who is this?
My phone rang in my hand and I clicked it on.
“Emma, it’s Chase.”
“Chase?” I dumbly repeated. Obviously it was. He’d just told me that.
“Yes. I’d like another session with you at seven tonight.”
“Um...” Flustered, I reached for my clipboard, trailing my finger down my schedule. “I’m not done seeing other clients until seven.”
“You’re done now.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re only going to be working with me from now on. I’ve spoken to the team managers. It’s all arranged.”
“It’s…what?” I had been hired to work with six members of the U.S. Olympic swim team. Now I was only working with him?
“You’re good at what you do. I’m going to need you on call over the next month. Your compensation will remain the same, regardless of the change. We can discuss details when I see you tonight.”
Confused, I managed an “OK” before hanging up. So, I guess this was what people meant when they said Chase was a classic Alpha, calling all the shots. But, again, it wasn’t exactly rude, was it? Unexpected, but it wasn’t as if he was giving me more work to do. In fact, I’d be paid exactly the same amount of money but only have one client for the whole month. Piece of cake!
But it sounded like we’d be spending a lot of time together. On call? What did he mean by that? He didn’t exactly strike me as the relaxed and casual type. Being on
call with Chase might be fairly demanding. I’d have to clarify it all with him when I saw him tonight. What exactly was this new agreement?
I still had a few hours before I saw him again. I walked the short distance to the hotel adjacent to the swim complex where we were all staying. Up in my room, instead of making myself crazy with questions I didn’t have answers to, I fired up my laptop and clicked onto our blog.
