Page 2 of Stalked By the Coach

But as we run drills, I find my gaze drawn back to Lydia again and again. The way she explodes from the blocks, her lithe body unfolding like a spring. The determination etched on her face as she powers down the track.

I force myself to look away, to focus on the task at hand. But her image burns in my mind, an obsession I shouldn't indulge, but cannot seem to resist. She's my student, I remind myself. I need to maintain boundaries, no matter how strongly I'm drawn to her.

Lydia lingers on the track as the other athletes head to the locker rooms, her cheeks flushed from exertion, tendrils of blonde hair escaping her ponytail. I know I should dismiss her, maintain a professional distance. But some reckless impulse propels me forward.

"That was an impressive practice, Lydia. I think you have a shot at states if you keep up this level of work.”

She brightens at the praise, those striking green eyes meeting mine. "Thanks, Coach. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Your starts need some refinement, but your speed is incredible. I'd be happy to work with you on technique sometime. How'd you like to join me for some one-on-one sessions?" The words spill out before I can stop them. I know I'm crossing a line, yet I can't make myself pull back.

Lydia nods, ponytail swishing. "I'd really appreciate that." She holds my gaze, something unspoken passing between us. My pulse quickens.

I’m getting into dangerous territory. I know what kind of one-on-one training I’d like to give her, but I remind myself that she really is a talented athlete, and I must hone her talent and help her achieve all she can. I can keep my cock in check. Ihaveto.

But as we talk details, I'm only half listening, distracted by her lean muscles glistening with sweat, her intense gaze that seems to see right through me. Jesus, this girl would be jail bait if she wasn't eighteen. And sheiseighteen. I made sure of it in the research I did on her last night. I force myself to focus. She's my student. I need to remember that, no matter how alluring I find her.

I feel a flutter in my chest at her words.Get a grip, I tell myself. Thiscannothappen. But still I find myself moving closer, drawn like a moth to her flame.

This has to stop. Yet as we talk, I find myself leaning in closer, drinking in her every word.

I finally take a step back, clearing my throat. "Well, great job today. Hit the showers and get some rest."

Lydia gives me a searching look, then heads for the locker room. I let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through my hair. I came dangerously close to the edge today. If I'm not careful, we'll both pay the price for my lapse in judgment. But even now, I cannot get her out of my mind.

I know I'm playing with fire, but I can't pull away. She is magnetic, and I am utterly under her spell...

***

I amobsessed. I look forward to practice more than ever before now. Just to seeher.

I watch Lydia from across the track, unable to tear my eyes away as she goes through her warm-up routine. Her lithe body arcs and bends with a fluid grace I've never seen before. She makes it look effortless, though I know the strength and control it requires.

I force myself to turn away, to focus on the other athletes. But my thoughts keep drifting back to her. The way her hair shines like gold in the sun. How her eyes flash with determination as she pushes herself to the limit.

I know it's wrong, that I'm risking everything by allowing myself to feel this way. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot resist her pull. She invades my dreams at night, my every waking thought consumed by longing.

At practice, I push her harder than the others, desperate to see that fire ignite within her. I crave those moments when it's just the two of us on the track, the thrill of her undivided attention feeding my inappropriate obsession.

I know there will be consequences if I continue down this dangerous path. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine seems to have chosen Lydia, for better or worse. I can only pray that I'm strong enough to maintain my distance. But as I watch her now, hair flying like a banner behind her, I fear that this girl may prove my undoing.

Especially when I realize that I would give upeverythingfor her.

CHAPTERTWO

Lydia

My heart poundsas I jog up the front steps of my house, sweat dripping down my back. The familiar white picket fence and manicured lawn give me a sense of comfort, a place I can escape from the chaos in my mind.

Inside, the air conditioning hits my flushed skin. I grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and guzzle it, the liquid soothing my parched throat.

Dropping my duffel bag in the foyer, I head upstairs to my bedroom. My muscles ache in the best possible way—the burn from pushing myself to my limits, proving I have what it takes. Proving I'm good enough.

Collapsing onto my bed, I close my eyes and see his face. Those warm brown eyes gazing into mine, his hands gently guiding me into the perfect form. The heat rises in my cheeks as I remember how his body felt pressed against mine, our limbs intertwined as we practiced take-downs.

My heart flutters at the memory of his smile, rare but intoxicating. The way he looks at me, like I'm the only thing that matters. The only one who understands. We're two of a kind, driven by the same passions, chasing the same dreams.

I know it's wrong to feel this way about my coach. But I can't control the surge of desire that courses through my veins whenever I'm around him. I crave his touch, his kiss, his everything. I want to get lost in his arms and forget about right and wrong.

---