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He is a totally different man than I remember—and, at the same time, he's precisely the same. His face looks more well-groomed after he shaved off his long beard and had a haircut. But his body... Those muscles are too big to hide them under the teacher's school uniform, especially if it's only a tight T-shirt and shorts.
"Why are you acting like a child?" he continues, his words sharp. "Stop whining, let the coach leave the school without any regrets."
What is he talking about? I make a surprised face, and he continues, realizing that I have no idea about the topic of our conversation. "His wife is in the hospital, hasn't he told you?"
Mr. Fitzpatrick's wife is sick? What? No, he hasn't.
All of those words run in my mind, but all I can do is shake my head in response.
"She has cancer, last stage. The doctors said she has four to six months max."
I didn't know, I swear.
Poor Mr. Fitz. What is he going to do?
But he seemed fine...
"So, once again, princess," Alex continues, emphasizing the nickname again, "Stop complaining and start working. I don't like loafers."
I open my mouth to say something but then close it again. I am so annoyed with this man. I want to punch him in the face.
"And don't tell anyone about what happened," he adds in a lower voice, unlocking the door and finally releasing me from his grip, letting me go.
He didn't really touch me, but it felt like he held me in his arms for hours because now I feel relieved.
"There's nothing to talk about. It was just a kiss," I hiss, finally feeling some courage coming back to me.
I open the door, deciding to slam it as hard as I can, but instead of that, I add, "And not the best one, to be honest."
And then I add a smile and rapidly get out of there before he manages to respond, closing the door carefully behind me.
Because I know for sure that there is nothing more annoying than a calm person responding to your rudeness.
Chapter Nine
Alex
The next day, before classes even start, I already feel like I hate my job. I haven't slept all night. I couldn't even close my eyes because each time I did, I was picturing Gabi in that wet bikini sitting on my lap. And we haven't even started our training yet! How the hell will I manage to work with her for the next couple of months?
I didn't know that working at the school would be this hard. I didn’t think it was going to be an easy journey, but to be honest, I couldn't even imagine what I was getting myself into. Twenty-five swimmers, boys and girls, all of whom expect something unbelievable from me. As if just my presence will turn them into Olympians.
Some of the guys I saw admire my achievements as if I'm some kind of chosen elite, even though I'm just a human who worked hard for what he wanted. Others already hate me for who I am, probably thinking that jealousy can somehow help them get better at swimming.
Most girls flirt with me, even though they have no idea if I am single. I haven't given any interviews since I quit swimming. What if I tell them all that I'm gay? Would they stop then?
No, I immediately wipe away that thought. If I say that I like men, some of the boys will quit because they won’t want to get naked in front of me in the locker room. Or, what's even worse, some of them might start flirting with me.
And only one person completely ignores me. Her name is Gabrielle Marcos. When she saw me in the hallway this morning, she turned around and walked in a different direction right away.
Mr. Fitz gave me her number, even though it's forbidden in a school like this one. He said that Gabi trains so many times a week that we'll definitely have to be in touch because she'll need extra classes, that's for sure.
But it seems like she not only stopped swimming in our school pool, she also wants to have nothing to do with me. She was supposed to come and negotiate a schedule this morning, but she didn't show up.
I haven't texted her yet. I couldn't force myself to, even though I know she has to continue her training; that's what I promised Fitz when I agreed to this job, that I would continue to train his best swimmers after classes. Who would know that he only has one, and it's a girl I wanted to fuck only a couple of days ago?
How can I keep my promise now? I not only think about her twenty-four seven, especially after pressing her to the wall in my office, but I also dream about her when I fall asleep. For the first time in years, I have had a dream, not a nightmare. And in that dream, this girl wasn't wearing any bikini, she was utterly naked...
"Coach Meyers?" A woman's voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to face her.
