Page 135 of Whistle

“Damn, Coach. Gonna have them ladies fighting over you tonight.”

“Doesn’t he look so handsome?” Landry said, stepping up to adjust the black bowtie strangling me.

“The whistle really brings out the control freak in you,” Rush lamented.

Jackass.

Landry made a sound and reached for the permanent staple around my neck. “Really, Dad? You can’t leave this home just for tonight?”

“No.”

“You’re edging into the My Strange Addiction territory, Emmett,” Rush mused.

I was not addicted to the whistle. I just… liked it.

“At least put it in your pocket,” Landry suggested, tugging the cord.

Sighing, I leaned down so she could pull it over my head. Grabbing the lapels, I held open my jacket, and she tucked it inside.

She patted the black vest over my white button-up. “That’s much better.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

“How was second swim today?” I asked Rush on the way out the door.

“Wet.”

“Did everyone show up?” I pressed, not in the mood for his baiting.

“The usual plus a couple more.”

“Bodhi?” I questioned, finally asking what I really wanted to know.

“He worked out in the gym.”

“What about the pool?” I asked, frustration clipping my voice.

Rush stopped and turned. “He did one lap.”

So much for hoping our little late-night swim healed his trauma. But I guess one lap was better than his previous none.

Progress is good, but progress won’t keep him on the team.

My tongue slid over my teeth, and I pushed my hands into the pockets of these too-tight trousers. What the hell did people wear such tight pants for?

“He’s not ready,” Rush said, voice subdued.

“Swimming isn’t optional with Elite.”

“Yeah.” Rush nodded. “I know.”

We shared a brief look. A mutual feeling of trepidation.

“No swim talk tonight. Tonight is for fun. We’ll worry about training tomorrow,” Landry said, breaking into our brooding.

“Young lady, the only thing fun about tonight will be when it’s over.”

“Dad!”

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