He shakes his head. “We only have a men’s team.”
My face screws up at that as I take off my goggles, tossing them to the side as he slowly starts walking towards me.
“Why?”
He shrugs, choosing not to fully answer which I find odd. His steps take him all the way up to me, crouching down so he’s closer to my eye level as he speaks.
“You should start training again. You could be really good.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face, even if I try. I do try to bite it back, but it’s no use.
“Why are you trying to hide your smile?” he asks, that half smile of his own tugging at his lips.
“I’ve just never heard that before. It’s nice,” I say softly, cringing at how insecure I sound.
His hand reaches out to my cheek, cupping it tentatively, like he’s giving me space to pull away. Yeah, like that’ll happen. I lean into his touch and his thumb pulls at my lip, freeing it from my teeth.
“You should hear it more.”
There was nothing I could do, no way it could have been prevented. My smile turns megawatt, as I grin up at this deliriously good looking older man, cupping my face tenderly and giving me all the words I’ve longed to hear from anyone before.
We stay like that for several seconds, just staring at one another before I speak.
“Are all teachers as caring as you?”
Something flickers behind his eyes as he lowers his voice, still holding my face as he does.
“If any of them are to you, you let me know.”
With that, he pulls away, standing up to his full height as he turns on his heel. I don’t let him go that easily, though. I lift myself out of the pool, climbing to my feet before I start after him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
He continues walking for several steps and then he pauses, causing me to bump into his back before he turns to face me.
“It means, if a teacher is looking at you the way I am, you should definitely report them.”
My stomach flips at his words as I look up at him curiously, doing my best to keep my tone light.
“Doesn’t that mean I should report you?” I test.
He shrugs.
“You could, but I’m a coach, not a teacher.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Definitely,” he nods.
I let out a laugh at that as I nod.
“I’m not sure my father would see things that way.”
“I don’t know, I can be a pretty charming guy,” he says with a smirk.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. Regardless, you’re definitely too old to be flirting with students, Coach.”
“Who said I was flirting?” he asks, that flirtatious smile speaking volumes.