by Nana Malone
The kind of marks he hoped he’d left involved razor burn on her breasts and between her thighs. Just thinking about out her taste, fuck…and the way she’d called his name over and over. He was fucking rock hard again. Shiiit.
That was the last thing he needed. He was meeting with Brent Coulter to check out the athletic facility at the Country Club where the Coulters wanted Echo to train. He wouldn’t be meeting her for another couple of days due to some scheduling things.
He knew where his mind should be. But that didn’t matter because right now it was filled with Cece, and how the scent of her clung to his skin. Someone that was supposed to be a one-night stand had somehow burrowed her way into his mind. Fine, whatever. He’d figure it out. He could find her again. How hard could it be?
Pulling on a pair of boxers, he looked around his apartment for any trace of her, but found nothing. No excuse to look her up to return something she forgot. If he wanted to see her again, he’d have to find her. And he was surprised by how strong that impulse was.
He’d hooked up a lot, but he’d never had a one-night stand that had gone quite like that. But then, he rarely woke during the night, and so he’d never taken the time to talk, like he had with Cece. Or maybe they’d overshared. He wondered if that was what had run her off so easily. He shook his head to force the thought aside. Not with what had happened between them after their little talk. He wouldn’t believe that they’d been able to connect so strongly physically, if the personal things they shared were what had made her run.
He’d never felt a connection like that before. Maybe her friend had dropped digits. If he couldn’t find her, that was it, he’d let it go. But he at least had to try.
Cole spent the next few days debating how much more effort he should put in to finding Cecelia Sullivan. The girl was a ghost. A quick internet search had turned up nothing.
Two days later, when he was complaining to Dylan about his frustrations, his friend shook his head. “Just forget about her, man,” Dylan said. “You got laid, and it was great for you, but she’s had her fun and you’ve got to move on now.” He was helping Cole unpack, a task that Cole had hoped would take his mind off Cece and put him into a more productive mindset. He started his job coaching the Coulter girl tomorrow, and wasn’t entirely surprised his brain chose to linger on Cece instead.
“Great for me? What do you mean, ‘great for me’?” Cole huffed.
“I’m just saying that maybe for her—”
“It was great for her, too,” Cole assured him. “You weren’t there. Shut up.”
“Fine,” Dylan conceded, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender over an emptied box. “Whatever you say. You were the best fuck she ever had. That doesn’t mean she wants to see you again. Maybe she’s not looking for a fuck buddy.”
“She wouldn’t have been just a fuck buddy.”
“Yeah, maybe not to you, but how would she have known that? You said yourself she went there looking for a hookup. She got one. How was she supposed to know you’d want to see her again for more than just a fuck? And who’s to say that she was looking for—?”
“All right, all right, I get your point,” Cole dismissed Dylan’s rambling blows to his ego. “She wasn’t into me like that.”
“You’ve said yourself you’re going to be busy babysitting this rich chick. Are you even going to have time for a girlfriend?”
“I said all right,” Cole snapped and Dylan backed down. Cole sighed. “Sorry man,” he apologized. “I’m just…nervous about tomorrow.”
“You haven’t met the girl yet?”
“Her parents, yes. Echo, no.”
“What the hell kind of name is ‘Echo’ anyway?” Dylan asked with a laugh.
Cole shrugged. He’d wondered the same thing himself. “They’re the kind of rich where no one cares what their first names are; only their last name.”
“Is she hot?”
“Don’t know. But probably in an overdone way. At least, that was the impression I got from her mother. She looks like she’s had work done, and I wouldn’t put it past flashy people like that to let their kid do stuff like that to themselves. Like Missy.”
Missy Banks had technically been his first love. He’d had girlfriends before, but nothing like that all-consuming shit. Granted, it was also his first time away from home, so the college environment had likely amplified the connection. She was beautiful, smart, and compassionate.
The only problem was that her parents’ first visit to them at school had been the beginning of the end. The break before the spring semester, they’d come to pick her up from campus.
That strained ten minutes had been his first inclination that he and Missy didn’t have all that much in common. Her father had practically screamed wealth, from his Rolex to his Maserati. Cole had had a hell of a time reconciling the sweet girl who lived in her Old Navy yoga pants to one that was related to that guy. The kicker was that he was a completely self-made guy. But he’d taken one look at Cole and decided he wasn’t good enough for Missy. He’d actually offered to pay both Cole’s and Alex’s his entire tuition to get him to stay the hell away from her.
When that hadn’t worked, he’d threatened to cut her off, which hadn’t meant anything for her day-to-day life, but Missy had an Achilles heel. She loved to travel, and thanks to Daddy Warbucks she could do it in style. That had been the end of that. And the girl he’d thought was the love of his life was gone.
The whole thing had scared him enough to make him gun shy about relationships. Trust was hard to come by these days when it came to women.
“And you’re supposed to train her to run?”
“She’s raced all her life. They’re paying me to get her into the Olympics and take home a medal.”
“And how’re you gonna do that? Not like you’ve ever done it before.”
Cole grimaced at the hit, and continued to pull plates and other kitchen stuff out of the box on the counter.
“I had injuries, true,” Cole admitted. “But I also have degrees in sports science and sports psychology. And when I was an assistant coach, I took three kids to All State championships and Junior Olympics. I can only help her so much with technique, and various strength and endurance trainings, but it’s the mental training that can make or break these kinds of athletes. Especially when she’ll be competing against the best in the world. Dealing with the pressure—physically and emotionally. She’s got a decent pedigree, given who her father and grandparents are, but they haven’t put the resources into her that they have into her brothers, and there’s no telling what that kind of coddling might have done to her.”
“You think she’s been coddled?”
“Her parents were the ones who hired me,” Cole pointed out. “If she were really invested in a venture like this, don’t you think she’d have hired me herself?”
Dylan nodded with understanding. “Maybe…or maybe since they’re paying, she thought it would be better for them to find someone they were willing to spend their money on. Besides, as you said, her grandparents being who they are, she probably figured they had connections.”
“I guess I’ll just have to wait until I see her to make up my mind about her, and I’ll watch what she can do then,” Cole conceded. “But even just getting her into the Olympics will make my career. Now, if she wins…”
Eight
Two days after their night out, Jen was still pushing Echo for details on her night with Cole, but Echo didn’t want to share more than the vaguest details. Three times and each was amazing—the last time somehow better than the first. It was the emotional connection stuff she didn’t know how to navigate.
“See, I told you this would help,” Jen had said, before sending a satisfied Echo home again the next morning. “And you don’t have to worry about seeing him again. No muss, no fuss.”
“Okay, Jen, I’ll say it. You were right. Thanks for taking me out. And wish me luck with the trials ahead,” Echo told her friend as she hugged her good
bye.
“Call me as soon as you’re done with the meet-and-greet with your new coach,” Jen instructed. “Did your parents even tell you the guy’s name?”
Echo rolled her eyes as she shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Nope. It’s a ‘surprise,’ apparently. I don’t know. Unless it’s some big name, I’d have to look him up to figure out who he is. And if it were a big name, it would already have gotten out to the press, and I’d be dealing with people asking about Gramps and ‘following in his footsteps’ and all that crap.”
“Probably. Well, good luck with it all, and if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”
Echo couldn’t bring herself to admit to Jen just how tempted she was to see Cole again. She knew where to find him. But the fact that he thought she was someone else ensured that she couldn’t make the effort. And after a few days, maybe she needed to leave it alone. It was a special memory, but she couldn’t really go there again. Whatever else might happen, she would always have those hours with Cole to remind her that she was desirable for more than just her name. That someone cared about what she thought.
Just thinking about him was enough to make her flush. But she didn’t have time for that now. Fantasy over. Real-life time.
There had been some debate about where the initial meeting should take place. At the estate, or maybe somewhere more public? Or in the spirit of their goals, should they all head straight to the nearby athletic club where most of her coaching would happen?
In the end, it had been decided that they’d meet up at the athletic club, which had a restaurant on site for members. Then, once introductions were made, her mom and dad would leave for one of Dad’s appointments, letting Echo and her new coach go over her training schedule on their own. When her father’s appointment was over, they would pick Echo up again on their way home, and no one would be any wiser.
Echo swallowed her objections to keeping the others in the dark and dressed for a lunch at the club, packing her running clothes and shoes into a duffel bag just in case. What was a little lying and secret-keeping between friends?
When they arrived, she quickly excused herself and ran down to the locker room to stow the bag and do a final check to calm her nerves and put on the brave face she knew her parents were expecting. You can do this, Echo. For Dad.
Coming into the small and intimate club dining room, Echo searched for her parents, and spotted them in the corner. A dark haired man had his back to her as he leaned across the table to shake her father’s hand. She was about to step towards the table when a waiter appeared to address the trio, and the guy turned to listen.
Holy fuckballs on a cracker. Echo froze, even as her heart hammered a tattoo on her ribs. Cole. Her new coach was fucking Cole?
She was sure it was him. The tilt of his head, his crooked smile. Her hand shot to the place on her neck where she was still using concealer to even out the tone of her skin and a higher collar to cover up the hickey he’d given her.
It’s not possible, she told herself as she watched her parents’ attention shift back to him when the waiter headed for the kitchen. The fancy job he’d been out celebrating was with her damn family. The person he loathed, the one he was dreading working for…was her.
Disappointment swept through her swiftly, but she tamped it down just as fast. There would be time to process those feelings later, with a call to Jen for emotional support. Right now she was running late. And they were waiting.
Drawing back her shoulders, Echo forced her mouth into a nervous smile, more nervous than it might have been with anyone else sitting across from her parents at that table. She was halfway across the dining room when her mother spotted her and signaled Echo’s approach. Echo’s gaze immediately went to Cole.
It hurt to watch and recognize each emotion as it passed over his face. Curiosity turned to excitement, then recognition. Which rapidly turned to hurt. And then obvious anger took over. But he managed to force his features into a polite smile by the time their hands met.
“Echo, this is Cole Jackson,” her mother introduced them. “Cole, this is our daughter, Echo.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Cole,” she said keeping her voice calm and neutral. At least, she hoped she sounded calm, and not like she was adrift in a hurricane of emotion.
He narrowed his gaze, and nodded. His smile was controlled. But she felt every bit of anger in his gaze. She remembered his warm, dark eyes and the way they’d watched her as they moved together on the dance floor at the bar. The way his eyes lit and danced with mischief as he’d teased her in bed. The lust and need that laced through them, as he’d watched her in the mirror.
She’d clung to the tenderness that flooded through her at the thought of his eyes looking at her, and now… She couldn't recognize herself in them. They were cold, hard, and accusing. She slid her gaze away.
Her parents resumed their seats next to each other, leaving her with no choice but to sit beside Cole. She settled into her chair and grabbed her menu so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone and could recompose herself.
“Sorry I was a little late,” she said as she glanced over the options. In truth, she ordered the same pasta dish every time they came here, but seeing Cole, she wasn’t sure she could handle something so heavy and rich. She was afraid it would either come right back up the first chance it got, or it would sit like concrete in her stomach.
“We ordered your usual for you,” her father explained, reaching over and taking her menu from her like she was a child. “Hope you don’t mind.”
She forced a smile. “Of course not, Dad.”
“Cole was just telling us about his big move to the area,” her mother explained.
“Yes, I stayed with a friend while I found an apartment of my own, and I’ve just finished unpacking. It’s a small place, but it will work for me.” His glare bore singed patches into her skin as he spoke.
“I’m sure it’s lovely,” Echo said with a saccharine smile. He was baiting her, but she meant the sentiment. His place might not be the estate, but it was more than she’d ever had to call her own.
“Enough about me, though,” he declared. “What about you, Echo? I’d like to know more about your running history. What got you started, and what kinds of events do you usually take part in? With your family’s legacy, especially in the Olympics, I would have thought you’d have tried making the cut sooner than this.”
Each time he used her name it was like he was jabbing her with a strategically placed pin.
“I started running with my grandfather, actually,” Echo confessed. “After he retired from football and started the store, he did a number of charity runs. I wanted to do them too, so he let me run with him while he trained.”
“So you haven’t really competed much.”
“Echo ran track all through high school and college. She was an NCAA champ for SDU,” her mother interjected.
Her father added with pride, “Echo studied business so she could get some practical experience with the company at the same time, while juggling that grueling meet schedule. I’m hoping she’ll think of going back for her MBA after the Olympics.”
Echo smiled weakly at her father. She had briefly floated the idea of going back to school for another degree in front of them, when she’d applied to design school. She hadn’t realized he thought she was talking about getting an MBA.
“And since you graduated you haven’t competed at all?” Cole asked, a note of judgment evident in his voice.
“She has been a tremendous assistance to the company’s charity efforts,” her father continued, answering for her. She knew he was trying to help, but she wished he’d let her speak for herself. “We encourage our branches to urge their workers to engage in their communities at all levels, and sponsor community-building events, especially charity runs.”
“Echo has done an excellent job of representing the family by taking part in 5Ks, 10Ks, and walk-a-thons, and she’s even completed several marathons as part of the
Legacy Sports-sponsored teams,” Julia Coulter listed with pride. “She’s helped raise millions.”
“But you haven’t run these races competitively?” Cole emphasized.
“No,” Echo responded. “When I’m representing the company and it is a charity event, I want that to be the only thing people are focusing on. It is the point after all, bringing awareness and donations to various causes as opposed to attention to myself.”
“Perhaps,” Cole conceded, without making it sound like he agreed with her perspective at all. “But whatever you’ve done in the past, you’re going to have to make changes from now on if you’re serious about qualifying for the Olympics. Especially at your age. Most people are looking to do this during their college years.”
“How about we leave the business side of things for the two of you to work out on your own?” her father suggested. The waiter appeared with a tray bearing their drinks.
Before Echo could take a sip of the soda in her glass, Cole picked it up for the waiter to take back to the kitchen.
“You’re going to need to adjust your diet starting immediately,” he told her. “I’m afraid I failed to ask what your ‘usual’ was when your father ordered,” he said, with what she suspected was supposed to sound like a self-deprecating laugh. “Admittedly, not the best foot to start on as your coach and trainer.”
Echo glared at him. She needed the sugar hit to keep it together right now. Her mother asked the waiter to stop and set the drink back down.
“Nonsense,” she insisted. “You’re Echo’s coach now, true. But training can start after we’ve enjoyed lunch. We need to celebrate, after all.”
Echo watched Cole carefully, and recalled his comments about the reservations he had concerning his upcoming job. She knew that this was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His authority and professionalism not being respected, being pressured to bow beneath the wishes of his new employers, simply because they could fire him at any minute.
