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No matter how many times I try to chant that in my head, every time Fallon Harris speaks, the crush flares up. I stand there in awe as he goes into detail about the format of practices. How if we’re not in the pool, then we will be in the gym. Dryland exercising is just as essential as everything we do in the water. This isn’t any new information to me, but the absolute confidence in his tone makes me absorb it like gospel. When I chose this college to attend, I didn’t have any expectations of the coach other than to train us for championships without the stress of tuition. With Fallon Harris here, my dreams of the national team don’t seem out of reach.
Chapter Two
Sage
“Peters. Can you hold up for a minute?” The deep timbre of his voice caresses over my skin as it has all practice.
I nod, slowly walking towards him with my hand clasping my waist as I try to catch my breath. I’ve been at a skills camp most of the summer, but he drove us hard today. The camp hadn’t consisted of much working out, so I felt every mile he had us running. I can feel the weight of his eyes as he watches me, so I avoid looking at his impassive face.
Even after hours of being in his presence, my mind is a jumbled mess as I try to form the words of admiration I want to tell him. He is one of the major reasons I pushed myself and hoped to be invited to the Olympic team.
Fallon folds his arms across his chest and I finally look up, standing straighter. My gulps of air have reduced to small gaspsand my arm hangs limp at my side. His eyes are a sea foam green, the reflections of the sun making them shine like crystals. His dark hair is a little longer, and some stubble peppers his sharp jaw, different from what he usually looks like. I almost grimace at that thought, feeling like a stalker for knowing that as he’s standing before me.
“Are you aware what time practice starts?” he asks, his stony stare unwavering as I flinch.
My heart shrivels, my stomach hollowing as dejection fills my chest. I blink, stammering as I fail to answer. “Umm–”
“I would assume you do since Coach Amber stated you were ready to be a part of this team after attending clinics all summer.” One curl brushes over the raised dark eyebrow as he tilts his head to the side.
How the man makes it sound like being invited to train with some of the same players that are on the current national team was an insult makes my blood heat. I clench my teeth, glaring at him. Any admiration I had for Fallon Harris is drying up like a hot summer’s day. “Are you really going to harp on me for being a few minutes late? You haven’t even asked why.”
There’s a flash of something dark in his eyes before it returns to the expressionless gaze. “I don’t care why. Starting is for players who respect everyone else’s time. The bench is for players who don’t.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you threatening to not put me in? They recruited me to take this team to championships.”
He shrugs. “It’s not a threat, but a warning. No one on this team is more important than the other.”
“That’s not what I was saying,” I grit out.
“It’s what you implied.” He steps closer, and the scent of citrus and chlorine makes me dizzy. “The center is nobody without their team behind them.”
“I understand the value of a team,” I say, the frost in my tone clear as he pauses to stare down at me.
Fallon uncrosses his arms, resting them on his waist as his tone softens disingenuously. “Curious why you chose this college when I’m sure you had bigger names gunning for you based on your stats alone.”
Shrugging, I look away and shift on my feet. “I never made commitments to any of them.”
He nods. “I’m aware. It’s just that this campus is known for its partying, not the aquatic program.”
I stand straighter, glaring at him as I speak with conviction. “I don’t drink or smoke. I’m committed to thisDivision Oneteam.”
Fallon’s lips twitch. “Being last place out of the best is still last place.”
Dragging my tongue along the back of my teeth, I give him a bitter smile. “I guess that’s what they’re paying you for, right? To take us to the top.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I give him my back. I hope my hair smacks him in the face and hurry to the locker room. I’m sure I’ll pay for that later, but my rage is boiling to the point I need to get away. My temper has a quick fuse. It’s gotten me into trouble plenty of times with my teachers and coaches. When I started this semester, I made a pact with myself to do better.
“You okay?” Emily asks.
I nod, breathing through my nose and exhaling slowly through my mouth. “Yeah. I’m just gonna rinse the sweat off and change. Wait for me?”
She doesn’t, of course. The goddess that I call my best friend runs and grabs us a coffee while I hurry to get ready for the day. I groan at the first sip as we make our way across the campus. Thankfully, our classes are in the same building.
“What did Coach Harris say?”
I roll my eyes, my previous irritation rushing back as she reminds me of that asshole. “Just giving me a hard time because I was late. It was only a few minutes, so I don’t get what the big deal was.”
Emily bites her lip and then turns to step in front of me, so we pause on the sidewalk. “I think he was looking for you.”
