Qualified: A Sports Romance (4 page)

Adam jumped up to go rejoin the team
for the end of practice, so Allie was left with only her sampling kit to keep
her company. She was saved somewhat from awkwardness by the low-key swarm of
activity occurring to get the pool back into shape for its open lap swim hours
in the evening.

Sound bent and was drowned out by slaps of water.
The pool’s staff efficiently started the rearrangement of lane lines from their
field-shaping box into the longer span of rows stretched across the full
hundred meters. As the team huddle broke, Adam and a couple of his friends went
to help haul the goals out of the water to set them aside on the cement deck.

Allie was supposed to get this sample set
immediately after exercise, but she wasn’t quite sure what that meant when her
subject was dripping wet and wearing less than a square foot of lycra. Was she
supposed to stop him before he disappeared into the locker room? At the least,
perhaps she ought to be sure that Marc remembered that he was supposed to meet
her promptly before leaving for the dining hall or whatever he had scheduled next.

After convincing herself that the coaching team was
done with the athletes, she set her feet under her and climbed down from the
bleachers to head for Marc at the other edge of the pool.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to worry about
him disappearing into the locker room at all. Allie realized that instead of
picking up their bags to retreat to the men’s area, the guys were instead
stopping above the clutter field of their backpacks and tucking their towels
into knots about their waists. She stopped abruptly, half turning around on the
impulse to give them time and come back later.

Sodden plops marked the dropping of speedos onto
concrete as one by one the guys peeled them off of their hairy legs.

“You’re the assistant from the Kaitech study?”

Allie finished her twist and looked up into the
sun-lined face of a man wearing one of the water polo teams’ staff jackets.
“Oh.” Her eyes flicked over him, taking in the height that rivaled the current
players and the softness that age had given to his frame. “Yes. That’s me.
Allie Hillsten.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Allie.” The man transferred
his clipboard between his hands so that he could reach and give hers a hearty
shake. “I’m Everett Samber, the team manager. See if you can get your study
work over with quick? We’re planning a group dinner tonight.” He gestured her
towards the half-naked team.

“Yes, of course.” Allie nodded quickly and
about-faced. Her gaze fell towards their feet, but maybe that was worse. It
meant that Marc caught her peeking along the bare-legged length of him as he
hitched on his grey boxer-briefs. There was nothing left to do but walk towards
him.

Each member of the team was so tall it was like
entering a grove of trees. Allie kept her eyes from focusing as she flicked her
shy smile to the guys she passed, stepping around puddles and begging their
pardon. Not like they cared. The majority didn’t seem to even notice her,
absorbed in exchanging laugh-warmed insults over each other’s performances that
day.

Marc let his towel fall as he got his jeans slid up
to his hips, unhurried in doing up their button fly. Beaded water glistened
along his shoulders. Allie could just barely see the fading red marks on his
skin where his teammates had been pawing at him in their scuffles. Marc didn’t
seem to notice them at all. He did, however, notice her.

“How are we doing this?” He was straight to the
point. She may have the whole of his attention now, but it seemed that Marc
would rather not give it to her for long.

Allie rolled her shoulders straight and unclenched
one fist from her death grip on her sample kit’s strap. She motioned towards a
door in the wall nearby. “There’s an office we can use so you can sit down.
I’ll record your …” Her eyes followed as he leaned to his bag, grabbing
out not his shirt but the wristband she gave him. “Pulse.” She smiled.

Marc didn’t smile back. She was beginning to doubt
if he knew how. “All right,” he said simply. He grabbed the rest of his things
to cart them along.

A few of his teammates gave them glances as she
followed along in Marc’s bare-torsoed wake. Allie was trying not to stare at
the small shifts of muscle along the powerful triangle of his back, so she was
better watching her periphery. She nodded to Adam when he waved at her before
he moved off with some of the younger guys to wait in the bleachers. Her gaze
was next caught by a pair of summer blue eyes watching her. It was hard to
match the uncapped team to the players in the water, but she thought it was the
sprinter Blake who’d won first hands on the ball. He smiled back at her readily
enough when he noticed her looking, wielding his good looks with a knowing
self-confidence.

Allie snapped her attention forward to the office
she was entering with Marc. The door thunked closed behind them, muffling the
echoing noise of the pool. There was a window in one wall looking out to the
deck, so it wasn’t as isolated as that first night in his room. Marc acted like
he owned the place, walking in and setting down his damp things on a desk
before he hauled out a swivel chair to sit on. He sprawled out his legs and
looked over at her expectantly. He was so tall that when seated he hardly had
to look up to meet her eyes.

There wasn’t anywhere she could go without
intruding on his space. She had to step over his ankle to get her kit up onto
the desk beside his things. “I’d never seen a water polo game before,” Allie
said inanely as she got out the timer. She looped its string over her neck and
then put on her gloves and palmed the salivary sampler from her kit.

“That was a shit show,” Marc said lazily.

Allie frowned as she pulled the little sampling
brush from its tube. “You’ll get better.” After the slightest hesitation she
stepped up closer, the slim space forcing her leg to brush against him. “Open?”
She gestured towards his mouth with the brush. He twitched those full lips and
then did so, the slant of his eyes looking up into hers.

It made her awkward as Allie brushed the sampler to
his gums. The incidental touch of her fingertips to his lips set her mind to
wonder what it would be like to touch skin to skin. To kiss him. It was exactly
what she wasn’t supposed to think about as a clinician and she hoped
desperately that he couldn’t read any of it on her face.

To cover her straying thoughts Allie kept prattling
on. “Anyway, Adam was telling me that you’ve just all started playing together,
so it makes sense that there’s a … learning curve.” Jerking her shoulders
into a shrug, she retreated a step and dunked the brush back in its sleeve. The
liquid inside would stabilize the proteins and immune markers Doctor Kaitech
was studying.

Marc tongued at the line above his teeth where
she’d scraped, following her with his eyes. “Is that what Adam was telling
you.” It was only sort of a question. He lurked in his chair like a waiting
lion.

She could feel the heat in her ears and couldn’t
look at him. She nodded vaguely. Luckily, Allie had the neat order of her
protocol to depend on. The thermometer next, to record his temperature. She
tried not to think about how she was reaching for his mouth again. While it sat
under his tongue she forced herself to pick up his wrist with professional
authority, getting his pulse rate. His wrist was so big, she couldn’t fully get
her hand wrapped around it. Maybe this is what his speedo felt like, stretching
over his …

Allie bit her lip, like that could stop the wild
run of her imagination. Focusing on counting was better, and indeed she found
herself lulled by the steady report of his heart.

The thermometer beeped and she took it back so she
could record the number for his sheet. “Well I’m glad you’re here,” Allie said
with a lift of brows once she was safely focused on her writing. “I’m glad
you’re participating in this study. It’s … I know it’s a bother.” She
glanced out the window to where everyone seemed pretty much done changing by
now.

“As long as you’re glad,” Marc said drolly. “If all
else fails, I suppose I can console myself in being your favorite lab rat.”

“I didn’t say that.” Allie turned a budding smile
towards him. It started as a moment of daring playfulness in contesting that he
was her favorite anything, but once she saw how he was looking off to the side
with that tightness in his jaw … Her humor fell flat and she swallowed.

His gaze had become restless by the time Marc
looked back at her. “What’s next?”

“Nothing.” Allie gave a little shake of her head
and retreated farther to start packing up her bag. “That’s it for the
after-exercise data. You’re wearing your wristband,” she acknowledged with a
nod. “That will help us plot your overall activity, as best we can, and
hopefully you’re tapping in at the cafeteria so it’s recording your caloric
intake?”

“Yeah, I tap it,” Marc said with a quirk of his
lips that came so close to being a smile. “So this is all we do, every other
day?” He pointed between the two of them as his muscles tensed in their
corrugated lines to pull him up to the edge of his chair. He flicked his eyes
up slow along the length of her, letting the question shape silent in the look
he matched to her again-staring eyes.

“I …” She summoned back that cheery smile that
gave her such good bedside manners. “This is all we do, yep. Just the first and
last appointment are … Anyway. You can …” Allie pressed herself to
the desk and gestured towards the door. “My job is to interfere with you as
little as possible.”

“If you say so.” Marc stood, once again towering
over her. He seemed in no hurry, pausing to pluck his shirt from his bag and
tug it over his head.

As Allie tidied her own things, she snuck a glance
aside to that solid washboard of abdominals before his shirt’s soft hem
finished falling over to cover it.

“Until next time.” The way he reached for his bag
wrapped him around her, like he was engaging her in defense.

Allie felt static tickling at her nape and along
her arms. “Yeah,” she said simply and dropped her head, hoping he couldn’t tell
what effect he had on her. Nine more days. Nine more days until his last
appointment, and he would go on his way and hopefully she’d be on her way to
medical school with a stellar recommendation from Doctor Kaitech.

Avoiding the water polo team during
their time in Colorado wasn’t an option for Allie. Her work assisting the
team’s physical trainer, Lindsey, became more involved once the woman
discovered how many skills Allie had picked up during her internship at the
clinic. At first she was just going to help them learn about the specialized
technology available at the center, but soon she was invited to attend the
coaches’ meetings with Lindsey and give input on the design of the team’s
recovery planning.

Of course, that was all added on to her
alternate-daily check-ins with Marc. The head coach didn’t seem to care very
much about the details of any of this, acting as an efficient delegator of
tasks he saw as more mundane and unrelated, but Allie quickly grew to
appreciate everything the team manager Everett did for the group. He was the
one who invited her to come to that first day’s class in the presentation room,
where she sat in the back and watched the guys interact.

Allie had gotten over a lot of her prejudices,
perhaps, working at the training center—but it was a little surprising how
sharp some of the guys were. Sure, a large percentage of them talked like
stereotypical surfers. And yet the majority of them had graduated from or were
attending some of the most prestigious universities in California, places Allie
had seen on top-ten lists when looking at her graduate school wish-lists. Not
to mention the one guy who was Ivy League. By the way they asked questions, she
reckoned a chunk of them could have gotten into those institutions on academics
alone.

She noticed that Marc was quiet. She wasn’t the
only one he seemed to prefer to talk to in monosyllables. He would sit at the
back of the classroom with his arms crossed over his chest. Apart. This despite
the way she could see the younger guys peering at him, so eager to learn from
those that had been through all of this before.

Small wonder they would look to him, with the way
he moved in the pool. They were all amazing. But Marc was like a Greek god. He
could tread water the longest and still lift his shoulders above the surface in
a weighted vest, and after that carry one of those metal bars she’d noticed the
first day up and down the full length of the pool. He applied himself to
everything physical with a doggish focus. Despite his prickly demeanor, it
couldn’t help but be inspiring.

Others on the team were easier to get to know.
Allie quickly became familiar with the veterans, if not why they seemed to keep
their distance from Marc. There was Chad the charismatic team captain and
Austin the starting goalie. Vince was the oldest on the team and a father of
three. Like Marc, they had all been to multiple summer games and picked up
professional contracts in international leagues for the years in between.

Largely due to the fact that players needed to go
international in off years to find leagues with paying contracts, there was an
odd age range of guys. Half the team was still in college, like Adam, and had
been too young to play on the United States’ team last time the summer games
were held. And then there was the middle cohort of guys, the rookies from the
London games. Troy and Ivan had also played in international leagues over the
past four years, while Blake had just finished his fifth year of college before
last summer’s continental tournament and had devoted his time to training for
the upcoming world competition ever since.

Allie couldn’t help but compare his exceptionalism
in being a part of two international-level teams to her own reason for taking
five years to graduate. The difficulties of transferring from community college
and trying to sign up for impacted classes seemed a world away from what these
elite athletes considered challenges. Ivan and Blake in particular almost
seemed like another species. Both gorgeous, both graduated from the most
expensive and prestigious school in Southern California. They carried
themselves with a charismatic confidence that had all the girls on the training
center’s staff turning their heads.

Small surprise that it was Ivan who won the dubious
distinction of catching Violet’s eye. It happened when Allie came in with the
team for lunch, trailing the pack of rambunctious young men as part of the
team’s coaching staff. She was busy scribbling down the notes Lindsey was
rattling off to her so she didn’t notice Violet making a beeline for her until
her elbow was taken in a possessive link with the other girl’s.

At least her roommate had the decorum to wait to
join the conversation until the coaches were done with business. Not that she
didn’t introduce herself. Violet was anything but shy or shrinking. “Hello, I
work in the administration office.” She flashed a million-dollar smile as she
took Lindsey’s hand. “I’m Violet Jenkins. It’s so good to have you here, I’m
glad we were able to book the team for over a week. I expect that the PR event
we are having on Sunday is going to be really excellent, and it will be a great
way for your sport to get some more visibility.”

“The right kind of visibility would be excellent,”
Lindsey noted with a polite smile, obviously undecided on whether Violet was
offering a flavor of notoriety that was desirable.

Violet of course was undeterred. She was a big
proponent of fake it till you make it, and that included friendships with
ornery administrative staff. She was capable of being violently friendly, and
she seemed to have her sights locked on.

This was earning her an excuse to walk to the
tables with the team, after all. It was subtle, but Allie knew her friend well
enough to catch the flicks of Violet’s mascaraed lashes that checked to be sure
the boys had noticed her. “I know some of your team members already have
sponsorships,” Violet went on. “But we’ll have representatives here on the
weekend who will be looking to do flavor pieces for television and other media,
and I think they’ll just gobble these boys up.”

Violet was looking quite predatory herself as she
tossed her hair and grinned at the collection of men before them. “They like to
hear about the athlete’s day, too, and the people who work with them. Have you
done much work in front of the camera?” Now the flattery came as Violet
appealed to her new bestie’s vanity.

Allie repressed her smirk and just followed along
in her friend’s wake. She was getting more attention now than she had the whole
day. It was bystander effect. Certainly, Violet’s leggings and heels were much
more a spectacle than Allie’s watermarked khakis and overlarge polo shirt.
Well, more attention except in Marc’s case. He seemed almost deliberate in his
choice of seat with his back set squarely to her. Maybe he was getting tired of
all the prodding she was tasked with doing to him.

Meanwhile Violet seemed to be composing a verbal
letter of recommendation. “Yes, Allie has been an excellent asset at our
clinic. I know she’s been doing amazing work with Doctor Kaitech. I don’t think
I’ve met anyone who works with such tireless dedication.”

“Stop,” Allie said bashfully as she collected her
tray and grinned up at Lindsey. “Violet is my best friend here, so she’s
terribly biased.”

“Well, the both of you must be doing something
right,” Lindsey said. “If you’ll excuse me, I had some things to talk over with
the head coach.”

“Of course,” Allie answered.

“See you later,” Violet added.

Allie started to walk for the nearest empty table,
but Violet pressed hard into her side. It nearly spilled her chocolate milk,
being steered towards Blake and Ivan’s table. “Do you mind?” Violet asked
without really waiting for an answer. She slid in beside Ivan with such
enthusiasm that Allie could see their hips bump.

Out of the corner of her eye, Allie could see that
Marc hadn’t bothered to follow where she was sitting. She smiled hesitantly at
Blake. “Is this all right?” She hovered her tray over the spot on the table,
waiting for permission unlike her friend.

“Please,” Blake welcomed her with a sweep of hand.
“You’re Allie, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Allie said with a grateful smile as
she settled in primly beside him. She noticed that he had set a napkin in his
lap. After a moment’s hesitation, she teased the paper square out from under
her fork and unfolded it to lay over her leg. It made her want to sit with her
back held straighter.

Allie did a double-take across the table as she
noticed the pleased look Violet was giving her.

“So where are you boys from?” Violet asked as she
curved a bump of her shoulder against Ivan’s and spun her fork idly in her
fingers.

“Los Angeles,” Ivan answered, his smile growing as
she held a matched gaze with him and cooed an interested little noise.

“Have you ever been there?” Blake wondered …
but he wasn’t looking at Violet.

Allie had to gulp though a swallow to clear the
first big bite she’d taken from her mouth. “Who, me?”

“You,” Blake confirmed with a too-sharp grin.

“Oh. No,” Allie shook her head. The care she took
in setting down her fork was all for naught when it went clattering off the
side of her plate. “I’d …” As if she weren’t flustered enough already. She
fished after it and hoped she wasn’t blushing too much in front of the boys.
“I’d love to,” she finally choked out. “I’ve looked at a few of the schools
there, for their graduate programs? But I’ve never been …” Anywhere. But
it made her sound worse than she already did, so Allie just left it at that.

“I went once,” Violet chirped in once Allie lapsed
into silence. “I would love to go back. Where do you guys live?”

The two shared a glance over the table. “This
spring we’ll be in an apartment near the training facility.” Blake was looking
over her features and Allie had no idea what he was finding.

“We’ve got a place right by the water, three
stories with balconies,” Ivan said to Violet. “You can hear the ocean at
night.”

“That sounds divine,” Violet sighed as she skewered
at her salad. “I’ll have to see if I can get on the planning committee for any
events you hold out there.” She slanted a suggestive look up at Ivan.

“I guess you’ll have to,” he agreed, unconcerned,
as he spun pasta onto his fork.

Allie just bit her lip.

Blake seemed to be laughing at her, but at least he
did so quietly.

She found her eyes straying to the other tables.
She had missed Marc standing up, but now his chair was empty. There was no
reason that it should bother her. As if to prove it, she put on a brighter
smile for Blake.

“You know what I think, Allie.” Violet looked away
from eye-fucking her chosen target long enough to play a toe under the table at
her friend’s foot. “I think we should invite them to be on our trivia team.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t want to play. I’m sure they
have … to sleep.” There was something a little panicked in how Allie
looked between everyone at the table. “You know what their call times are like
in the morning.”

“Miss goodie-two-shoes,” Violet teased fondly.
“It’s really not scheduled to go that late. All the staff have to be up in the
morning, too. Say you’ll be on our team?” She implored Ivan with another bat of
lashes. “Unless you have something better to do.”

Ivan was biting. “That could be interesting.”

“Uh huh,” Violet beamed around a coy nip at the
tines of her fork. “And what about you, Blake? Teams of four.”

Allie gave a wide-eyed look across the table and
aimed a kick at her friend. She couldn’t find Violet’s feet, though. They were
probably hooked over Ivan’s ankle.

“I’m game,” the other player said with a shrug.

“Perfect. I’ll give you my number.” Violet rocked
farther against Ivan, as if she needed more space to tug her phone free from
the purse crumpled at her outside hip. “We can meet in the lounge room in your
hall.”

Their hall. Allie glanced again to the table to her
left, but Marc was long gone.