Chapter 3 Little Exhibitionist
CHAPTER THREE
Little Exhibitionist
IRINA
The Sydney University women’s student athletes were getting out of the pool when I arrived.
All eight of them, tugging off their caps and goggles, dripping on the pool deck as they headed for their towels.
I eyed them defiantly as I dropped my bag onto a chair poolside, stripping out of my sundress.
Underneath, I was wearing my university swim club speedos.
Finley Williams, their captain, rolled her eyes before turning her back on me, muttering something to one of the other girls, who giggled back like the little suck-up she was.
Finley hated me because I broke her club record in the women’s 200 metre freestyle—during training, which royally pissed her off. Plus, at the last UniSport meet, I was selected for the university’s freestyle relay team over her.
I hated Finley right back—I coveted what she’d enjoyed for the last four years.
Her entire degree was paid for by her student athlete scholarship.
She was given the flexibility to fit her class schedule around training and race meets.
She had a future in representing the country she loved in the sport she adored, while international students like me weren’t eligible for athletic scholarships.
Bernard Hayes, the swimming head coach, resented the stupid rule almost as much as I did.
He was pissed that he couldn’t have me on his student athlete squad, and he’d been vocal about it more than once.
Which only gave Finley another reason to hate me.
“She bothering you?” my ex-coach Simone asked as I adjusted my goggles, ready to hop in and begin a warm-up set.
I shook my head. “Since when have I ever been bothered by her jealous bullshit?”
Simone smiled and patted me on the back. “Kickboard first, then we’ll switch to the pull-buoy, really give those arms a workout before we do some proper training.”
I blinked. “Uh, Simone, not sure if you got the memo, but I’m actually a graduate now.”
“Congratulations!” Simone said with a sly smile. “Now, kickboard.”
“But that means I’m no longer competing with the university swim club. I’m just here as a casual member now.”
“So? I have a spare hour, and I want to coach you.” Simone tossed the kickboard into the pool. “I mean, am I resentful that Romania is going to absolutely slam our Aussie swimmers in women’s freestyle at the next Olympics? Fuck yes. But will I be secretly cheering you on? Also, fuck yes!”
I managed what I hoped wasn’t a grimace, slipping into the water and dragging the board towards me.
If Simone wanted to spend an hour of her own time focusing on my training, I was going to make the most of it.
She didn’t need to know that my Olympic dreams were dead in the water, since I had no intention of being in Romania to qualify, let alone compete, ever again.
Pushing that depressing thought from my mind, for the next hour I focused only on my stroke, my speed and my power in the water. And it did help me to forget my dire situation for a little while.
When I got out of the water, my muscles were buzzing with the pleasant ache of having worked hard, and Simone was beaming at me.
“You’re a huge loss to the club … and to the country, Ri,” she said, squeezing my hand before passing me my towel.
“I wish there was a way we could sponsor you to become a permanent resident … but I’m just being selfish, I’m sure you’re very excited to finally go home to your family after four years. ”
I managed a twisted smile and a nod, quickly ducking my head under my towel so she couldn’t see my expression. If only she knew …
When I had myself under control and my swim cap and goggles off my head, I sat, not quite ready to leave the pool deck yet.
Who knew how many more times I could safely come here?
Simone was across the deck, chatting with Lincoln, my boss, who oversaw the kids Learn to Swim program.
I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to draw his attention.
In two weeks, my job at the Learn to Swim school would be just another thing I had to leave behind to keep my slightly illegal presence in Australia under wraps.
Sighing shakily, I let my eyes roam the aquatic centre, inhaling the chlorine scent, the splashing sounds and the echoing giggles of the kids in the Learn to Swim pool.
Several casual members were lap swimming in the far lanes of the fifty-metre pool.
My gaze caught on one man, moving with sleek grace through the water, hair dark, body leanly muscled.
He reached the end of the pool and surfaced, tugging off his goggles, and I got a proper look at him.
My lips parted. He was gorgeous! His features were carved in sharp, handsome lines, but softened with full lips that made me want to know what they would feel like on my skin.
Flicking water from his black hair, he pressed his palms to the pool deck.
I watched, practically salivating at the way his muscles bunched as he emerged from the pool.
My eyes trailed the beads of water as they sluiced down the planes of that body.
His arse—la naiba, his arse, encased in a pair of navy-blue speedos.
Italian Renaissance sculptors would have given their right foot to have this man as a model—not their hand, obviously, because they would need that to sculpt him.
He ran his fingers through that hair, and I watched it bounce back towards his scalp.
It was going to dry curly; I could just tell.
Dracu, I suddenly ached to run my fingers through silky black curls and feel muscles ripple under them as I slid them lower, towards that arse that needed to be immortalised in marble—
“Morning, Irina.”
I flinched, turning to find Lincoln standing over me, ruffling his salt and pepper hair. “Can I have a word … when you’re dry and dressed, of course.”
“Sure,” I muttered, my stomach churning.
I’d worked with the kids in the Learn to Swim program since my first year at uni.
Me—a girl who was a self-taught swimmer—helping young kids be safe and strong in the water.
I’d loved watching them strive, and thrive, and slowly (or sometimes quickly—I’d had a few who I was sure would go on to be swimming superstars one day) find their form and move on from LTS to junior squad.
The thought of not being able to do it anymore … it was just another gut-punch.
“I’m going to need you to put in your two weeks’ notice, Ri,” Lincoln said without preamble when I closed the door to his tiny, cluttered, chlorine-infused office and turned to face him.
I swallowed back a sigh. “Is that really necessary?” I leaned on the chair in front of his desk. I wasn’t sitting. I just wanted to get this over with and get out. “We all know I’m done in a fortnight.”
Lincoln’s sympathetic smile made me want to punch something. “We do, but I need the paperwork—the club is playing silly buggers, and they won’t let me advertise for a new hire because we’re at capacity. But if I have your letter of resignation, they’ll at least let me start the process.”
I shook my head, a bubble of laughter burbling up from my chest. “Sure. Give me a pen and paper, and I’ll write it now, if you like.”
Lincoln must have sensed my mood, because his cheeks flushed, his lips twitching. “Oh … no, you can just email me one through when you’re home, I—”
He snapped his mouth shut when I leaned over, snatching up a Post-it pad and pen from the desk.
“Irina Rusnac officially resigns her position at Sydney University LTS program, effective immediately, because the club is too fucking dense to understand that she can’t keep working here past the end of February anyway, and she doesn’t want to work for people who are so fucking stupid a second longer,” I read aloud as I scrawled the words across the paper, my hand shaking.
I signed a messy signature, tossing the pad and the pen down in front of Lincoln. “That should be enough to get your new hire.”
“Ri, I—”
“Just don’t,” I muttered, spinning for the door.
My eyes were prickling, but I wasn’t about to let Lincoln see me cry.
I swallowed back my misery, stalking out of his office and down the humid corridor.
I passed the dry land room, keeping my head high in case Finley and her cronies were still in there.
The last thing I needed was any of them witnessing me losing my shit.
By the time I got back to my bag, I was shaking all over and furiously blinking back tears. What the hell had I just done? I mean, I knew I couldn’t work with the Learn to Swim kids forever, but I could have had another two weeks to say goodbye to my current group of little humans.
Not to mention, the extra money would have come in very handy …
“Fuck,” I muttered, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
“G’day, Ri.”
I turned, finding Gus Wolff, hair still damp from his training, standing behind me in a muscle shirt and gym shorts, a lopsided grin on his face.
I swallowed back my misery, stepping closer, walking my fingers up my past fuck-buddy’s torso. He would be the perfect distraction from this deluge of emotions that was threatening to choke me.
“Got condoms?”
Gus gulped, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. “Uh… yeah, back in my room, I—”
I grabbed him and his bag from the nearby chair. “Let’s go!”
I was already stripping out of my sundress before the door to Gus’s tiny dorm room had swung fully shut. My bra and panties followed, left in a puddle on the floor.
“What’s brought this on?” Gus asked, gaze roving my body as he lost his clothes in the same no-nonsense way that I had. “I thought you were dating that Asian chick.”
“We broke up,” I muttered, then grabbed him by the neck and tugged his mouth to mine, licking desperately at his lips until he opened for me. I plundered his mouth, hooking my leg around his hip until he gripped my backside and rocked against me.