Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Zeke
Icarve my way through the water, cutting the fastest line I can manage.
I’m pushing hard this morning, no signs of tiring, and every time thoughts of frat stuff sneak in or my mind slips in images of Charles on our walk, I push all that noise back out again.
The only focus I should have is my goal.
What I want more than anything. The reason I get up at ass-crack o’clock every day.
Pretty boys with sweet smiles and explosively short fuses should not distract me this easily.
I hit the edge and resurface, sucking in a long breath before I turn to Coach. His lips purse, and his head jerks sharply from one side to the other.
Fuck.
I don’t pound the side like I want to. I redirect that energy to climb out for attempt number two.
This time, I’ll stay focused.
This time, I’ll nail my—
Charles.
I freeze at the sight of him sitting huddled on a bench a few feet away. He’s snuggled into his hoodie, hands clamped around his coffee while he watches.
I fight my immediate reaction to smile. He’s not the first person I’ve had come watch me; my frat brothers stop by occasionally, and sometimes I haul Doomsen’s ass out of bed to time me on the days Coach isn’t here, so I’m not self-conscious about him being here. I’m … something else.
And he got to witness a terrible swim.
I flick him a quick wave so he knows I’ve seen him, then snap my goggles back down and step up onto the starting block.
Okay, Zeke. Time to show off.
Wow. That’s the most like Robbie I’ve ever sounded … I’d be disgusted in myself if I didn’t mean every word.
Coach calls for me to get ready, so I roll out my tight shoulders and take position.
The second the whistle sounds, I dive, and as soon as I’m underwater, everything else disappears.
My stroke feels perfect, effortless, thoughts completely clear, and I push that high to last me for the entire one-hundred-meter swim.
I flip turn at the other end, picturing him watching, impressed, maybe turned on, who knows, and it forces me faster.
Every stroke is long and clean, and when I hit the end and flick my goggles back to look at Coach, this time, he’s smiling.
He nods my way. “Much better. Again.”
Yesss.
It’s hard not to be cocky when I practically bounce out of the pool and go again.
When we wrap it up half an hour later, Charles stands and carries my towel over to me. This time, I can’t hide my smile as I take the towel and wrap it around my shoulders.
“This is a surprise.”
He’s still clutching his coffee like his life depends on it. “I woke early. Thought I’d wander down and see what all the fuss is about.”
“And now you get it, right? Why everyone is so obsessed with me?”
“With dreams like that, are you sure you’re not still asleep?”
I wink. “If I was asleep right now, you’d be wearing a lot less clothing.”
He laughs and scans the area, like he’s checking there’s no one around, but there are only three other people here this early, and none of them give a fuck about what we’re doing.
“Come with me.” I start toward the change room and feel him follow.
His nervous energy is infecting me, and I hurriedly reach up to pull off my swim cap and goggles, then pointlessly comb my fingers through my damp hair.
As soon as we’re alone in the empty change room, I turn to him, my amusement growing by the second.
“Are you now going to tell me what you’re doing here?” I ask.
“I told you, I—”
“Got up early? Right. You nearly peeled my skin from my face when I woke you at six thirty. You’ve been here since five. Try again.”
His gaze darts away, body language drawing in on himself when he suddenly shakes his head and looks at me again. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s been days.”
“And?”
His bottom lip pouts. “You’re in a Speedo, Zeke. You can’t expect me to word right now.”
“Ah, so you want me for my body, huh?”
He scowls.
I smile wider.
“You’re the one who said we’re sorta friends. Sorta friends do things like this.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Sorta friends meet up at parties. Borrow each other’s notes in class. Good friends show up to early morning swim practice. Are you saying we’re good friends, Chuck?”
“You’re impossible.”
“Just working out where we stand.”
“Fine. We’re good friends, then. What are you going to do about it?”
For one thing, not stop smiling apparently, because watching him get all prickly over this conversation is making me desperate to touch him. “Why don’t I show you tonight what a good, attentive friend like me can do?”
He swallows thickly. “Here.”
“What?”
“You have keys to get in early, don’t you? Let’s … you know. Because of your … and you …”
“You want me to fuck you in this locker room?”
Almost his entire face goes red as his stare darts toward the shower stalls. “M-maybe in there?”
“And if we’re caught?”
That question cuts through the lust taking over him. “We don’t have to,” he says, sounding more like himself. “I … I just thought—”
“Yes.”
“Y-yes?”
“But we need to meet here early. That way, if anyone catches us, we can say I wanted to practice and you’re here to time me. Tomorrow morning at four. Think you can get up then?”
“Yes. I can be a very, very good friend too.”