Chapter 46

46

Coach (Emmett)

Halfway through practice, Dean Cardinal walked into the natatorium. He looked completely out of place in a gray houndstooth suit, white dress shirt, and gray tie. As he came forward, his shiny black dress shoe trod in a puddle, sending a spray of chlorinated water all over the toe.

Frowning, he shook his foot and started ahead again, eyes zeroing in on me immediately.

“Emmett,” he greeted, voice brusque.

“What can I do for you this morning, Philip?”

He opened his mouth, but I drowned out his words with the wail of old faithful.

Phweeeeeeeee! “You’re doing it again, Vargas! Correct your form.”

Philip cleared his throat and tried again.

Phweeeeeeeee! “Streamline!” I yelled. “No breathing till you get it right! You earn your oxygen around here!”

“Still on the bleachers, I see,” Philip said, tone unforgiving.

The whistle bounced against my chest when I let it fall and followed his shrewd, unapproving gaze to the bleachers where Bodhi was sitting.

“You were at the meet yesterday,” I said coolly.

“We need to talk, Emmett.”

“If you’re here to tell me how to run my team, I don’t think there’s anything to say.”

“Might I remind you who pays for this entire program, including your salary?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to point out it wasn’t him, but what was the point? I knew this was coming. I was ready for it.

“Of course. Let’s take this to my office, Dean Cardinal.” I invited him, holding out my arm toward the locker room door.

He nodded once and strode ahead.

“Assistant Coach Resch,” I called.

Landry looked up.

“You’re in charge.”

Her stare trailed to the dean and then back to me, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. “Okay.”

On my way to my office, I felt Bodhi’s attention and glanced at where he sat, his bicep snuggly wrapped. Just seeing him strengthened my resolve and solidified every decision I’d made. I gave him a reassuring smile so he knew nothing was wrong and headed for my office.

Dean Cardinal was already there, looking at a wall of certifications, awards, and other honors I’d received in my career. Before Lance died, I had dreams of going to the Olympics and really making a name for myself in swimming. But when Lance was gone, some of my dreams died with him. Or rather, they changed. I no longer wanted the spotlight, and maybe I didn’t think I deserved any medals. But I still loved swimming. I mean, it was where I’d found solace when my world went to hell. I craved structure. A predictable life without surprises. And with a daughter to support, a steady job was a necessity.

My stats were impressive, my reputation with Westbrook and Elite respectable even back then. So when I graduated, they offered me the assistant position to train and learn under the former Elite coach. Just two years later, I took over the job and had been here since.

So yeah, that wall was filled with accomplishments and honors, basically a map of my entire career. I didn’t really look at it much, too busy to dwell on what I’d done when I had more to do.

But seeing him standing there in front of it now, hands clasped behind his back like he was at a museum, a lump formed in my throat. Maybe I should have appreciated it all more. Given myself more credit for everything I’d done.

But I supposed it felt different now that it was ending.

“Elite swam well yesterday,” Dean Cardinal said, not turning to look at me.

I set my clipboard and stopwatch on my desk and leaned my hip against the edge. “They ranked number one.”

“Even with your new swimmer’s flub.”

“I would hardly call a sprained muscle and severe leg cramps a flub.”

He turned then, reaching up to smooth his tie. “I told you if he didn’t swim, he was off the team.”

“Pretty sure he was in the water,” I inferred.

A beat of silence hung between us.

“Are you sleeping with him, Emmett?”

I didn’t miss a beat before I answered, “Yes.”

He sucked in a breath and rocked back on his heels as though he were shocked I’d answered directly. “So you admit it.”

“I’d also make it clear that I’m not just sleeping with him. We are involved in a relationship.”

His lips dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Need I remind you of Westbrook’s consensual relationship policy? Relationships of any kind between students and faculty are expressly forbidden.”

“I’m well aware of the policy,” I said, going around my desk to open the top drawer and withdraw a single sheet of paper. “Which is why I’ve taken the liberty of putting my resignation in writing.”

Dean Cardinal’s shoulders sagged. “You can’t be serious, Emmett.”

“Serious as a heart attack,” I said, walking across the room to extend the document.

He looked at it as if it were a basket of venomous snakes. “I came in here to remove him from the team, not call for your dismissal.”

“You can’t cut him from Elite,” I intoned, the edge of the paper crinkling in my grip.

“I told you what would happen if?—”

“If he didn’t swim. Which he did. He pushed himself when he wasn’t ready—a fact I made you well aware of, yet you insisted he swim. So he did. Even after he nearly died from falling off that god-forsaken bridge!”

“What was he even doing on that bridge, Emmett?”

“Coach Resch,” I growled.

“You’d really toss aside twenty years of friendship for a kid with a criminal record and shitty time?”

Bristling, I slammed the paper into his chest so hard that he stumbled back. “Seems to me I’m only your friend when I’m toeing the line and making Westbrook look impeccable. Something I’ve done for half my goddamn life.”

He blanched. “Em—” The withering look I shot him made him stumble. “Coach Resch, you know as well as everyone else that we have a set of policies in place.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I just quit,” I said, heart nearly pounding out of my chest. Adrenaline pumped through me as though my body thought I was fighting for my life.

And then I realized.

I was.

“And he’s not just some kid with a criminal record and shitty time. He’s the man I love. The man I’m willing to walk away from this pool for. So the next time you want to speak about the man I have chosen, you might remember that.”

Dean Cardinal was speechless, which was good because every time he opened his mouth, he pissed me off more.

I held a finger in the air. “And speaking of our agreement and the policies you so love to remind me of… You cannot dismiss a swimmer based on a verbal agreement that was made without a witness. You cannot dismiss a member of Elite for a poor showing at a single meet. Especially after you were made aware of the physical strain and trauma this student had been under a mere twenty-four hours prior. Trying to do so would make it look like you have some axe to grind. A personal vendetta. Is that the kind of look you want to present, Dean Cardinal?”

Cheeks a little paler than before, he straightened and cleared his throat. “You might have saved his position on Elite today, Coach, but who will do it when you are gone?”

My tongue slid over my teeth.

“A sprained bicep takes a while to heal. And without his previous performance on record to prove he’s an asset, well, the board may decide to cut their losses.”

“I can’t stop you,” I said, hating it but knowing it was futile to deny. “But his grades are good. I know because I keep tabs on them. His tuition is paid. You can’t expel him from the school. Please, Philip. You know his reparation is conditional to this.”

Asking for that made my esophagus burn, but I would do anything I could to protect Bodhi.

Both eyebrows arched halfway up the dean’s forehead. “You really will stand there and fight to keep him here instead of yourself?”

A loud bang and a scuffle outside the office brought our heads around. I suppressed a groan.

“What was that?” Dean Cardinal asked as if this were some college version of Friday the 13th and not a locker room.

Bodhi barreled in, face set in full-on superbrat mode, eyes shooting lasers of death. “You cannot quit your job!”

He went straight for the dean, and considering his track record, I knew it was going to get ugly.

I lunged fast, snatching the hood lying against his shoulders and yanking him back. He tripped over the too-long pants (because they were mine) and nearly wiped out right there, but I caught him.

“This conversation does not concern you,” I said, pinning his back against my chest.

“The hell it doesn’t,” he fumed, spinning around as his eyes flashed. “You are not quitting your job. I forbid it.”

Well, what in the audacity did we have here?

I arched an eyebrow, Crossing my arms over my chest. “You forbid it?”

He grimaced but didn’t back down. “Yes.”

Outside the room, I heard, “Forbidding shit is my line. Someone needs to tell him.”

Oh, look. Superbrat brought his friends.

Nosy bastards.

“Get your asses in here,” I barked.

“I thought old men had bad hearing!” Kruger whisper-exclaimed.

Someone needed to tell him his inside voice was shit.

“Now!”

They stepped in one by one. It was ridiculous like one of those tiny cars at the circus that held way too many clowns.

Ryan Walsh, Jamie Owens, Wes Sinclair, Jason Rush, Lars Eriksson, Ben Kruger, Matthew Prism, and, bringing up the rear, Landry. All of them were wet and wearing nothing but Speedos. Except Landry, of course.

“Who’s running practice if you’re back here eavesdropping?” I asked.

“We’re taking a water break,” she told me. Then to the dean, she said, “Hydration is important.”

Hydration, my ass.

Pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and finger, I said, “What gave you all the impression that you could stand outside my office and eavesdrop on a private conversation?”

“To be fair, Coach, you were yelling. You weren’t hard to hear,” Jamie said.

“Thanks for that,” Wes added.

“The dean never comes to the pool like this. We knew something was up,” Ryan said.

“Again, I ask what makes you all think this is your business.”

“We’re Elite,” Ryan needlessly pointed out. That was his excuse for everything.

“Actually…” Dean Cardinal spoke up. “Coach Resch just tendered his resignation. So he actually won’t be Elite much longer.”

“You aren’t quitting,” Bodhi argued.

“Is this because of your relationship?” Ryan asked, looking between me and Goldilocks. His voice and demeanor were calm.

The dean let out a strangled sound. “You all knew?”

“Bro, we were listening at the door.” Rush reminded him.

“But none of you seem surprised,” he observed, glancing around at everyone.

“We already knew,” Lars put in.

Philip’s mouth dropped again, and twin spots of color bloomed high on his cheeks. Spinning to me, Dean Cardinal said, “You’ve put this team in a very precarious position, Resch. Forcing them to be complicit in your relationship with a student and using your power to?—”

“ Whoa! ” Kruger cut him off.

“How dare you talk to him that way?” Landry followed, voice high.

“It’s the truth,” Philip replied.

Jamie shook his head. “Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me.”

“My dog is smarter than that, and he chases his own tail,” Kruger noted.

“You don’t have a dog,” Prism pointed out.

“You should tell Arsen you want one. We’d get one so fast.”

I gave them a look.

“Sorry, Coach,” Prism mumbled.

“Coach Resch didn’t force the team into anything. None of us knew about his relationship with Bodhi until a few nights ago after they had their accident and we met them at the hospital.”

Dean Cardinal seemed surprised. “You all went to the hospital?”

“Coach is our family,” Rush stated.

I mean, I guess he wasn’t as bad as I thought.

“I see,” the dean mumbled.

“I don’t think you do,” Ryan said, taking the attention. “Coach Resch has never used his position to do anything but train and support us. He’s never asked us for anything other than to do our best and leave anything personal outside. He’s always there when we call. He’s shown up at the hospital when we’re hurt, the police station when there’s trouble, and I know he doesn’t get paid overtime. He does it because he’s a good coach and he cares about us.”

“He gave me a chance when no one else would,” Rush put in.

“Me too,” Bodhi echoed.

I wanted to reach out and pull him into me. I knew he wanted it too, but I held back.

“He eats, sleeps, and breathes Elite. He’s one hundred percent dedicated to this job and team. Even when it pisses me off. Even when he makes decisions I don’t like and don’t agree with. At one time, I even lost respect for him,” Ryan said.

I sucked in a breath and turned toward him. “Walsh?” I questioned.

Ryan merely nodded and kept his eyes on Philip. “You know why? Because he didn’t give in to me. He refused to choose one team member over the other without sufficient proof.”

“Bro, that pissed me off too,” Jamie mused.

Ryan held out his fist, and they bumped it out. Then he just kept right on going.

“But you know what? I can admit he did the right thing back then. Even when I hated him for it. Even when I refused to swim. So don’t come in here in your shiny shoes and fancy suit and act like you know what it’s like to live in Speedos, to have to earn your oxygen.”

Kruger nodded. “Honestly, Dean, you’ve been using a lot of it in here. A real oxygen bandit.”

“ Kruger ,” I warned, but it was half-hearted. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell him he was a moron.

Because, damn. I always told myself it didn’t matter what these boys thought of me because, at the end of the day, I wasn’t their friend. I was their coach.

And while, sure, that was true, I realized I did care. Their respect meant something to me. A lot of somethings.

The locker room door banged open with so much force that we heard it smack the wall from my office.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Now what?”

“Wes!” Max roared.

“We’re back here,” Wes called.

“Who texted them?” I demanded.

Jamie seemed unbothered. “It’s a team meeting, Coach.”

“They aren’t Elite!” I roared. I was going to need blood pressure pills after all this.

“Yes, they are!” everyone chanted.

Dean Cardinal looked beside himself. Amateur.

“Good luck finding someone else to deal with all this on the daily,” I told him.

“D-daily?” he stuttered.

“Twenty-four-seven, bro.” I confirmed. “Twenty-four-seven.”

Max, Win, and Arsen crowded through the door, all three searching the group for their other halves.

“Matthew,” Arsen called, going right to him, unzipping the Gucci bomber jacket he wore as he went. The second he was close enough, he shook it out behind Prism and pulled it around his body. “You okay?” He fretted. “Coach blowing that whistle again?”

Before Prism could reply, Arsen turned his dark eyes to me. “I thought we talked about this.”

I groaned and thought about the voicemail I’d received a few weeks ago—Arsen telling me to stop abusing his boyfriend’s ears with my air cannon.

Can you imagine? He called it an air cannon.

“What’s going on?” Max demanded.

“The dean’s pissed about Bodhi and Coach, so Coach quit.” Wes filled him in.

Win whipped around to look at me. “For reals?”

“Yes. For reals,” I said. Sometimes it was easier just to answer than argue.

Win nodded. “Mad respect.”

I didn’t resign for respect. I did it because I chose Bodhi. I chose him over everything.

“Be that as it may,” the dean said, looking a little shell-shocked as he tried to commandeer the conversation, “the consensual relationship policy here at Westbrook prohibits?—”

“But it is consensual.” Lars interrupted, brow wrinkled. “Bodhi is twenty-one. That’s legal age to vote, drink, consent to a relationship. He can do anything?—”

“Technically, he can’t rent a car. Gotta be twenty-five for that.” Kruger corrected him.

“That’s stupid.” Wes scoffed. “He can literally go buy a car outright and have it in his name, but he can’t rent one?”

Kruger motioned with his hand. “Arsen, you better call up the senator. Tell him to put our tax dollars to work and fix that.”

“The senator?” Bodhi asked, glancing curiously at Arsen.

I remembered that time he commented about Arsen’s ass. He’d better not be getting any ideas.

Forgetting I was being professional, I grabbed Bodhi by the wrist and pulled him into my side. Without any reaction, he leaned his head on my arm.

Much better.

“Yeah, bro, my in-law is a state senator,” Kruger boasted.

Prism cleared his throat.

Kruger made a face. “You know, because my brother here is dating the senator’s son.”

Prism tugged Arsen’s jacket closer around him and nodded.

“I’m sure Senator Andrews has better things to worry about than the age limit for a rental car,” Philip argued. Then a confused look crossed his face. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because Bodhi and Coach are old enough to consent to a relationship.” Lars reminded him and then looked at Win. “Right?”

“Yes.” Win agreed.

“No,” Dean Cardinal refuted. “That’s not how this works. The problem is that Bodhi Lawson is not able to give consent because Coach Resch is in a position of power and therefore can use said authority to influence and even coerce him into a relationship.”

Bodhi snorted. “Coerce? I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

Philip looked down his nose at the swimmer by my side. “Did you or did you not come here as a condition to avoid jail?”

“So?” Bodhi asked.

“So perhaps involving yourself in an affair with your coach is a way to keep your status here since your swim times are abysmal.”

Bodhi went rigid and probably would have attempted to castrate my old friend if I hadn’t stepped in front of him, shielding him. Or maybe protecting the dean. Which, frankly, he didn’t deserve.

“You can say whatever you want about me, Philip,” I said, voice quiet, “but talk to him like that again, and the next words you say will be through your missing teeth.”

Dean Cardinal made a face, adjusting his jacket and tie. After a light sniff, he said, “So that’s really how you want to play this, then, Emmett?”

“I’m not playing anything,” I said low. “I know it’s against university policy to be involved with a student. I am, and it will never change. I appreciate the opportunity I’ve had to coach here all these years, and I love my job. But I can coach anywhere, and there’s only one man I’ll ever love.”

Bodhi made a low grunt, and his fingers wrapped around my forearm.

My stomach fluttered, but I didn’t look away from the dean. I was finishing this. “Out of professionalism and respect for this college, I typed up a formal resignation and have informed you of my departure. I can finish out my two weeks, or I can be gone by the end of the day. I will concede to your choice, Dean Cardinal.”

Dean Cardinal cleared his throat. “Clear out your office by the end of the day.”

Landry gasped.

“Broooo,” Jamie drawled.

“Broooo,” Kruger echoed.

“This is not the Elite way,” Rush spat.

“How are we supposed to swim without Coach?” Wes asked.

“You’ll meet your new coach by the end of the week.” Dean Cardinal decided. He acted as though it were easy to find someone who could step into my shoes.

Good luck with that.

I knew this was coming. I’d held it off as long as I could because I was afraid. I couldn’t even fathom what my life would look like without this office, this pool, Elite. I thought my life would fall around me, that all the stability I’d worked so hard to build would be ripped from beneath my feet.

I learned something about myself in that moment.

I didn’t need Elite the way I thought I did. Yes, this was bittersweet and monumental, and maybe when I got home later, I’d feel some type of way. But right now? Standing here in my “former” office—knowing after that day, I wasn’t coming back—I didn’t feel my world collapsing. I felt it expanding.

“I’ll be out by three.” I confirmed.

“Ryan,” someone murmured, but Ryan said not one word.

Swallowing, I faced the group. “Back to practice. You don’t get to slack off around here just because I’m no longer in charge.”

“Landry, you can run practices until the new guy shows up. And, Walsh.” Ryan looked up. “Help her. Elite is going to need you.”

For once, Walsh didn’t seem so eager to be in charge.

“I don’t want this,” Bodhi said, wringing his hands.

I glanced at him. “You don’t want me?”

A pained expression twisted his face, and he bit down on his lip.

I grabbed his chin. “Because I want you a hell of a lot more than this job.”

“You shouldn’t have to choose,” he mumbled, looking up at me with big blue eyes.

“There’s no choice,” I whispered.

Lifting the whistle, I put it between my lips and blew. One last send-off for the Speedo gang.

Phweeeeeeeeeeeee! “Back in the pool, mouth breathers! Don’t embarrass me by swimming like shit! Go earn your oxygen!”

They all stood there, shell-shocked and pale, acting as if they weren’t going to listen.

Phweeeeeeeeeeee!

They moved then.

But not out of the office like I’d told them. They converged on me like a pack of buzzards on a corpse. Wet, cold bodies pressed in, arms and legs everywhere, dripping hair smearing my face.

“We love you, Coach,” someone whispered as they all wrapped around me, the biggest hug this office had ever seen.

I backed up worse than a clogged toilet, so tight with overwhelming sentiment that I struggled to breathe. I was paralyzed by the genuine emotion these normally chronic idiots were pouring out.

Water pressed the backs of my eyes, blurring my vision as the tip of my nose tingled. I wanted to yell at them to get off me, to go back to swimming, and that this was no big deal.

My voice didn’t work, and well, they weren’t really like a pack of buzzards. They were more like a basket of puppies, all of them with wagging tails. Too cute to push away.

Over their heads, my gaze met Dean Cardinal’s. Maybe it was because I was fighting tears. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see. Regardless, regret dulled his features, and he shook his head. Bending at the waist, he retrieved the wrinkled paper bearing my resignation and scanned it quickly. “I’ll have HR contact you.”

I inclined my head, and he left, fancy shoes clipping across the tile.

“All right,” I said, gruff. “That’s enough. Go swim.”

They exited without a word, leaving behind Bodhi and Landry.

“You’re seriously quitting, Dad?” Landry asked.

“Seriously.” I confirmed. “But don’t you worry, ladybug. I can still pay your tuition.” As my daughter, her tuition was waived because I was the coach.

“I don’t care about tuition, Dad! I care about you.”

“Well, then you’ll be glad to know I’m happy with my decision and have no regrets.”

She glanced at Bodhi, then back at me. “You’re sure?”

“One million percent.” And I realized I could mean that whole-heartedly because I had taken my time before. Because I’d thought this through. I knew what I wanted.

I was taking it.

She nodded once, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Well. What are you going to do with yourself now?”

I smiled. “Still up for that furniture shopping?”

Bodhi made a stricken sound.

Landry laughed. “Yes!”

“Good. Now go finish practice. I need to pack a box.”

Then it was just me and Goldilocks, silence falling between us like heavy snow.

“Baby…” I started, and he whirled.

“Why would you do this?” he demanded.

“Do what?”

“Give up everything for me.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“No one ever has before.”

His dejectedness broke my heart. “I love you more than anyone else ever will.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared down at his hands, chipping the dark polish off his nails.

Closing the distance between us, I touched his hands, stilling his nervous movements. “And never say I’m giving up everything because I’m not. Giving up everything would mean giving up you, and that, sweetheart, is something I will never do.”

I wasn’t great with words, pretty lame actually, but those seemed pretty good, didn’t they?

Apparently not.

In a burst of defiance, or maybe panic, Bodhi bolted. “I won’t let you do this,” he yelled and rushed out the door.