Page 7 of Stalked By the Coach

Coach Thompson releases me abruptly, raking a hand through his hair. But it's too late. The truth is there between us, as undeniable as the attraction pulsing through my veins.

He wants this as much as I do.

And I don't know what to do with that knowledge.

* * *

My heart pounds as I walk to practice the next day, a riot of emotions churning inside me. Did I imagine the intensity of Coach Thompson's gaze? The tenderness in his touch? Or was it real, a sign that my feelings for him aren't one-sided?

I scan the track for any sign of him, my breath catching when I spot his familiar figure leaning against the railing. Our eyes meet from across the field and a slow smile curves his lips, warmth flooding his gaze. My cheeks flush with heat and I look away, a giddy smile tugging at my own mouth.

So it was real. The knowledge thrills through me, setting my blood aflame. I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. How am I supposed to focus on my training with these feelings consuming me?

When Coach Thompson blows the whistle to start our warm up laps, I join the other athletes on the track. But I'm only going through the motions, my mind wandering to fantasies of being alone with Burke, his hands and mouth claiming my body in the way I've only dared to dream about before now.

A sharp sting on my arm jerks me back to the present. I've drifted into the runner beside me, our elbows colliding. "Sorry," I mutter, shaking off the distraction. But a minute later, I stumble over my own feet, nearly taking a nasty fall that would have sent me sprawling across the track.

Coach Thompson's gaze snaps to mine, his brow furrowing in concern and frustration. I know I need to get a grip before I really hurt myself or sabotage my training. But how can I contain this fire that threatens to consume me whole? My longing for Coach Thompson has become an inferno, and I'm not sure there's any turning back.

I escape to the locker room during our break, needing solitude to wrestle with my tumultuous emotions. But the empty room only intensifies the ache inside me. I slide down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chest as I try to steady my ragged breathing.

It's wrong. Pursuing a relationship with Burke would be completely inappropriate and jeopardize my training, not to mention his career. I know this, and yet...the thought of denying myself the pleasure I crave seems unbearable. I've never wanted anything the way I want him. My desire is an all-consuming flame that threatens to reduce me to ashes if left unsatisfied.

When the door creaks open, I scramble to my feet, wiping furiously at my eyes. But it's only Burke, a concerned frown creasing his brow as his gaze searches my face. "Lydia, is everything alright?"

The compassion in his tone and the tenderness of his words nearly undo me. I open my mouth to assure him I'm fine, but the lie refuses to form. Instead, I take a step toward him, the space between us crackling with energy. His eyes darken as they drop to my lips, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he means to close the distance between us.

But he clears his throat and takes a hasty step back. "You should head back out. I won't have you slacking off during practice." His gruff tone does little to mask the longing in his eyes, giving me a shred of hope that my feelings aren't one-sided after all.

I open my mouth but no sound comes out. All I can do is nod and head back out to the field.

But I still feel Coach Thompson's eyes on me.

* * *

I continue my training, pushing my body to its limits, but my mind refuses to focus. Thoughts of Coach Thompson consume me—the strength of his hands, the warmth of his breath against my neck, the hunger in his eyes. I stumble again, crashing to the ground as my knee gives out beneath me.

Coach Thompson is at my side in an instant, helping me up. "That's enough for today." His jaw clenches as he examines my knee. "You need to rest."

I jerk away from his touch, frustration boiling inside me. "I'm fine."

"Lydia, stop." His voice is sharp, commanding. I freeze, heartbeat racing. "You're distracted and you're going to hurt yourself if you keep running like this. Take a break."

"You don't understand," I say through gritted teeth. "I have to keep going."

"Why?" He steps closer, dark eyes searching my face. "Talk to me."

The words burst out of me. "Because if I stop, all I'll think about is you."

Silence. I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing my lack of control. What have I done?

A hand cups my cheek, gentle yet firm. "Look at me."

I obey, trembling. Coach Thompson's eyes blaze into mine, filled with a hunger that mirrors my own. "You're all I think about too, Lydia."

My breath catches, and I feel dizzy. We stare at each for a long moment. It's just the two of us on the field, and staring into his eyes, I almost forget that he's my coach.

He's aman, and I'm awoman.

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