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A twinge of familiar jealousy tightens my chest. Ultimate FOMO. The bus ride to Idaho was a new form of torture. Watching Aldo and Joy cuddled up together, sleeping for most of the way, while I had to sit by myself. It was a solid six hours of wishful thinking. It felt like the most unfair thing in the world that I couldn’t cuddle up with them and sleep the journey away.

I internally roll my eyes at the memory of Doug on that trip. Sitting across the aisle from me with his headphones in the entire way. I bet he wasn’t even listening to something. He’s just the type of douchebag that wears headphones to get people to leave him alone.

I smile to myself before calling out to the lingering team members. “Come on, Team! Get in and get warmed up!”

It’s not long before Joy shows up, flanked by Theia and Erica. They’re chatting and laughing, and I take a minute to just appreciate her in her natural element. Then it hits me. It’s been years since I coaxed any sort of birthday celebration out of Joy Blake. The last one was when I’d sneaked flasks of Southern Comfort and lemonade and her favorite cookies into her room for her seventeenth birthday, almost five years ago. A lump forms in my throat. I missed her eighteenth. By then, I’d already broken her heart.

Shaking off the past, a sense of panic settles over my skin. I’m acting like I know her, like I’m the keeper of all things Joy. But she’s not the girl she once was. She’s a woman now. One that I’m still getting to know.

What if she loves birthdays now? What if she has huge plans with her sorority sisters?Fuck.

I’m full on freaking out when Aldo steps out beside the pool. He’s already wearing his forest-green swimming cap, his goggles resting on top, and I take a second to admire his muscled shoulders and slim waist. And that ass. My stomach flips and I bite down on the inside of my cheek, hoping no one is paying me enough attention to notice me blatantly checking him out.

“Hey, Coach.”

Joy’s voice startles me, and I turn to find her standing beside me, a grin on her gorgeous face. “Hey.”

“You know,” she whispers, leaning into me. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be eye fucking your team.”

My skin heats. “Totally wasn’t.”

“Liar.”

She smiles up at me, and it’s like everything in the world has fallen into place.

“You okay?” she asks.

I blink, realizing I’m just staring at her. “Yeah. Sorry. I just really want to kiss you.”

Her eyes widen, and she glances around as though someone might have heard me. I bump into her side with a grin, but before I can say anything else, Doug’s voice rings out around the pool.

“Okay, you bunch of wankers. You’ve got three seconds to get in the pool and start swimming or you’re doing an extra half an hour of laps after practice with pull buoys and paddles.”

The poolside erupts with grumbles and splashes as the team dive in and start swimming. Joy sticks her tongue out at Doug, shedding her robe and shoving it at me, before pulling down her goggles and diving in from the side of the pool. When I glance over at Doug, I catch the ghost of a smile before his features return to stern indifference.

I’ve replayed our ‘encounter’ in his office several hundred times, with a whole spectrum of feelings about it. The main one still being guilt. Even though I’m one hundred percent sure Doug would punch me again if I admitted to it. But as I watch him frown at the team, shouting out his special brand of derisive encouragement, a new sort of curiosity fills me.

What does he look like when he’s blissed out? When we’d fucked, I couldn’t even see his face. I still haven’t really seen his dick, although I remember the weight of it in my hand clear as day. What was he like with Joy? With Aldo? Does he relax? Smile? Or is he literally a grumpy fucker? I chuckle to myself.

“What’s so funny, Masters?”

I turn and look at Doug, completely unable to wipe the grin from my face. “Nothing. Nothing at all, Coach.”

He narrows his eyes at me, then walks away, crouching down at the end of the pool and talking to Elsie, who’s rotating her shoulder like it hurts her.Shit.I hope she’s not injured. That’s all we need before the big San Francisco showdown in a couple of weeks. But after a minute, she pushes off the side and her form seems fine. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Halfway through practice, as the team takes a water break, Aldo walks over, his eyes clouded with concern.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “What’s wrong?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“You look stressed as hell,” he says, and I watch his hand flex at his side as though he wants to reach for me.

Frustration flickers over my skin and I sigh. This sucks. “I’m fine. Just worried about tonight.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Aldo grins. “I managed to work it into conversation. We’re all set.”

“What do you mean?” My pulse races and it takes a lot of willpower to not look over at Joy.

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