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Jamie muttered something I couldn’t hear and slipped beneath the surface before Coach could make him swim more.
I laughed under my breath and glanced at Ryan who was in the lane right beside me.
He was the best freestyle swimmer Elite had, and he was also my friend. A friend I didn’t know I needed until he basically took me under his wing and started helping me train so I could keep up with him.
“Go—” I’d barely opened my mouth to call to him before something grabbed my ankle and yanked me below the surface. Water filled my partially open mouth and tried to force its way up my nose. Some of it must have gotten up there because it burned like a bitch even as I forced air out, creating a wall of bubbles.
Twisting, I glanced at Jamie who was still towing me deeper. Reaching down, I shoved his massive shoulders, trying to dislodge him, and he looked up, grinning like some kind of underwater Cheshire cat.
I gave him the finger, and bubbles escaped his lips when he laughed and let go. Instead of heading for the surface, I dove beside him, and we raced toward the bottom, seeing who could touch first.
The tips of my fingers grazed the smooth bottom just before his, and I looked up as my ears popped from the pressure. Jamie gave me the finger, and I imitated his Cheshire cat impersonation before pointing to the surface.
We both shoved off the bottom, bursting up and gliding through the cold waves until our heads cleared the surface.
Dragging in a deep breath, I smiled, water dripping onto my teeth. “You owe me dinner.”
“It ain’t right, bro.” Jamie shook his head. “You’re smaller. Of course you’re quicker.”
“He beats you every time,” Ryan said from the side. “At this point, I think you just like buying him dinner.”
“You jealous, bro? You know you’re my boo. I’ll buy your dinner too,” Jamie called.
Ryan opened his mouth to likely say something funny as hell, but Coach had to go and ruin it.
“Don’t even think about it, Walsh.” He warned Ryan. “Keep your language clean.”
“I just love when you show up at our optional second practices, Coach,” Ryan said, hauling himself out of the pool.
Coach looked like he’d smelled a bad fart, the whistle falling from between his lips to knock against his chest. “That why you started having second swims, Walsh? So you could pretend to run my pool?”
Ryan’s back muscles bunched, and he straightened as if he didn’t even feel the water dripping off him. The mood in the air turned rapidly, shifting from relaxed to tense in about two seconds flat.
I swam forward, but Jamie was already there, pulling his bulk out of the pool like it wasn’t even work. He stepped up beside his best friend, both of them mirroring the other’s posture and stance, something that was even more pronounced because they wore matching black Speedos.
“When I first started swimming extra, it was alone. It was to better my own time. Then some guys wanted to join. Was I supposed to ask you for permission?” Ryan said, his voice low and steady.
“Thought this was the Elite pool, not yours,” Jamie reiterated.
“Jesus,” Coach muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “You two are always on the defense.”
“You’re always on the offense,” Ryan countered.
“Enough.” Coach Resch sighed, likely taking note of a few of the other guys who came to swim this afternoon watching the exchange.
It was a pretty bad secret around here that Ryan was the one the entire team looked to for, well, anything. No one bothered swimming twice a day until he started. No one cared what kind of reputation Elite had on campus until he did. Hell, one time he refused to swim, and half the team walked out with him.
Technically, we weren’t even a team. Swimming is an individual sport, but Ryan Walsh inspired loyalty. Even before he helped me with my swim, pulled me into his friend group, and didn’t bat an eye when I told him I was gay, I’d been loyal.
Now I considered him family.
Out of the pool, I stepped up on the other side of Ryan, leaving Coach to stare at a wall of three instead of two.
“I have no interest in a battle of wills with any of you. This is the Elite pool, and you all have carte blanche access, as you well know. But when my swimmers start practicing extra on the regular, I’m gonna show up sometimes to make sure you’re following protocol and not forming any bad habits I’m gonna have to break you of at the required practices. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” all three of us affirmed.
“Good.” He was gruff. “Now get out of here.”
