In the Fast Lane (Fast Series Book 1) by Evie Anderson Page A

just watching you go crazy over my crappy stroke.” It was getting better, but she still lacked consistency. She finally allowed herself to walk into the room. This wasn’t the first time she’d enjoyed watching him in the viewing room, but today she’d found herself standing in that doorframe a little longer than the day before.
    Dalton stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Well, knock it off and get over here. I’ve got a killer practice planned, and we’re behind schedule.”
    Dalton looked good stretching. His body was strong and lean, and Jessi wanted it. “Back hurt?” she croaked out.
    “Everything hurts. Believe it or not, bending over to yell at you all takes it out of a guy. I need a massage something fierce.”
    Jessi needed a breather. She jerked her eyes away from his abs of steel only to have them land on his heartbreaking face. Dalton’s strong cheek bones created wonderfully bold facial features. His remarkably large, see-through blue eyes had been put in with a sooty finger. Long, dark lashes almost created the illusion of eyeliner. Totally unfair.
    “You’re quiet, Pruitt. That little French reporter piss you off?”
    Then of course, there was his mouth. When it wasn’t flinging out vulgarities, it was actually quite beautiful. She imagined if he was using the right vulgarities it could be down-right orgasmic.
    “What are you staring at? Do I have something on my face?”
    “Sorry, I was just taking in Mr. Serious at work,” she lied. “It’s nice to see you so focused.” Watching Dalton work was undeniably sexy.
    Jessi decided it was best if she stopped looking at him. She hustled the rest of the way to her chair, sat down, and willed herself to keep her eyes off the baby face that had won the hearts of women all over the world, including her own back in the day. The man was a walking, talking cologne ad and dangerous as hell.
    “So, how’s it looking today?” She nodded toward the screen.
    He stared at her a bit longer as if trying to figure out what was up with her. Then, perhaps deciding that question was a lost cause, he promptly returned his attention to the screen without a word.
    Dalton took the cursor back to the previous fifty yards of her stroke and pushed the play button on the screen again. “Okay, right here. Do you see that, Jess?”
    Jess. He never called her Jess. Other people—like her friends—did, but not Dalton. Is that what they were? Friends? Why did that seem so grossly inadequate?
    Dalton had been many things to her throughout the years—obsession, crush, villain, heartbreaker, and yes, once he had been her friend—but now, something as innocuous as “friends” didn’t seem to come close to describing their relationship.
    “Are you listening?”
    “I’m sorry,” Jessi said, shaking her head to clear it. “I got preoccupied for a second there.”
    Dalton raised an eyebrow.
    She laughed and replied, “Yes, even I get distracted sometimes.”
    “Not you. Not the teacher’s pet. You’re supposed to be my good girl,” Dalton snorted.
    She really didn’t like that. “Whatever, Dalton.” She said it lightly, but still didn’t enjoy being treated like his swimmer . Which, of course, was exactly what she was.
    “Okay, enough chitchat. Now we’ve got to focus on this hot mess of a fly. Look here, on your second fifty. You start to pull to the left, just a little. I think you’re getting tired, or at least starting to feel strain. Let’s focus on that today. I’ll look for the pull and stop you. You tell me right then what you’re feeling.”
    “By stop me, I assume you mean that you’ll throw your water bottle at me,” Jessi said dryly.
    “Yep.”
    Dalton went back to the tape. One of her other coaches came in shortly after, and Dalton spent the rest of their time talking with him about practice.
    Jessi stayed quiet for the rest of the session, letting the two coaches talk it out. She couldn’t shake the sense