Page 124 of Forbidden

He shrugs, gently tugging me to walk with him. “Do I need a reason?”

“I suppose not.” I laugh, his good mood infecting me until we reach the doors. Pausing, I take in a breath. “I can’t believe the season is almost over.”

Aldo squeezes my hand before pushing open the door and standing back to let me through. “I know. Although, I can’t say I’m going to miss the early mornings.”

We’re a few strides from the locker rooms when Lane appears at the other end of the hallway, a clipboard in his hand. His handsome face lights up when he sees us and my body fills with warmth at the sight.

“If it isn’t my two favorite captains,” he says, coming to a stop in front of us. He glances both ways before dipping forward and kissing us both briefly on the lips.

“Lane,” I hiss. “That’s reckless.”

He shrugs. “I can’t help it. It’s yours and Aldo’s fault for looking so kissable.”

“Ew.” Aldo laughs. “What’s with the cheese?”

Lane shoves his shoulder playfully. “Show your coach a bit more respect, Rossi.”

“Does someone need to be taught a lesson?” Doug’s voice sounds from behind us, and I turn, a smile already on my lips.

Lane’s deep laugh rumbles behind me. “Rossi has an issue with my moves.”

“Lies,” Aldo says. “All lies.”

Doug chuckles. “I don’t know. His moves are pretty crap.”

Lane folds his arms over his chest, his eyebrows raising. “You didn’t seem to mind my moves last night.”

“I’m good at faking it,” Doug says with a shrug.

My heart beats a little faster knowing that anyone from the team could walk around the corner at any second, or could overhear us, but the guys don’t seem worried. I suppose anything they’re saying could be explained away as friendly banter.

“What’s everyone doing after practice?” Doug asks, looking particularly delicious in his tight black tee and green sweatpants.

Lane moves around to stand next to him, bumping him with his hip. “We have that online meeting with the other coaches for the final meet.”

“Gross.” Doug groans before looking at me and Aldo. “Do you two have class?”

“I have one at eleven but then I’m free,” Aldo offers. “I have a paper I need to work on, but I did half of it already.”

“You’re such a swot.” Doug teases with an eye roll. “What about you, Minx?”

My skin heats at the nickname, and I cast a look over my shoulder. “I have a class at ten and then an online class at two. Dinner?”

“Dinner’s good,” he says with a smile. “My place?”

Before any of us can answer, Wes appears round the corner, coming to an abrupt halt as he finds us all blocking the corridor. He’s been quieter than usual these past few weeks, if that’s even possible, but I haven’t had the chance to ask if everything’s okay. I make a mental note to ask Aldo, because I know they speak a little more often.

“Did I miss a memo about a meeting?” he asks, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

“No,” Lane replies, stepping away from us and heading to the men’s locker rooms. “We just got chatting about next week’s meet. You ready, Bowers?”

Wes shifts his kit bag higher on his shoulder and nods. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” Doug adds. “I hope that fundraiser isn’t going to pull your focus.”

Wes’ eyebrows shoot up. The fundraiser he’s organizing with Sol Brooker, the captain of the lacrosse team, is taking place the night after our swim meet. I’m DJing half of the event, sharing the evening with Trey.

“Absolutely not,” Wes says. “My focus is on the team.”

---