When the meal was over—charged to the Coulters tab, of course, so I couldn’t even make the gesture of offering to help pay for it—Brent and Julia Coulter excused themselves.

  “You two have some plans to run through, I’m sure,” Brent said, in the lobby of the club. “We’ll let you get to it, and will come by to pick you up, Echo, in, oh…a couple of hours at least.”

  “We might stop and do a bit of shopping, and you know how I can get once I get going,” Julia had joked. “We’ll give you a call when we’re on our way. Give you plenty of time to clean up.”

  Echo briefly hugged her parents. I couldn’t hear whatever it was she’d whispered to them, but they headed out to their waiting car without any further comments. “I’ll go change and you can meet me by the entrance to the track when you’re ready.”

  Did she actually plan to ignore it all? To pretend it hadn’t happened?

  “I think we should have a little chat first, Echo,” I snapped, following her down the corridor that led to the locker rooms.

  She turned on me, shocking me into taking a step back.

  “You think?” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. “I, for one, would rather have that conversation out on the track, where we can have a bit of privacy,” she said under her breath, glancing up and down the hall and fighting to keep her voice down.

  “Don’t want to make a scene, huh?” I’d been able to keep my anger contained in front of her parents. But I shook with it now. Echo and I had done more than just see each other naked. Maybe Dylan was right, and I’d ignored it all. Despite the deception, a certain level of intimacy had been established that couldn’t be undone. “Maybe you should have thought of that before—”

  “I didn’t know,” she bit through clenched teeth.

  “Well, you didn’t look as taken aback by our little revelation as I was, that’s for damned sure,” I spat back.

  There was a moment of hesitation before she answered. “I saw you from across the dining room. I only had a few moments’ warning more than you, that’s it.”

  “Like I’d trust anything you say.”

  “Just…shut up and change. We’ll figure this out when we’re outside.” She turned, muttering to me as she stalked off. “I need to run.”

  She disappeared into the women’s locker room. I turned and went back out to my car to retrieve my own workout clothes. When I made it out to one of several tracks on the club’s extensive grounds, I saw Echo already running laps. I hated to admit it, but she did have good form. I could appreciate how controlled she was in her speed, clearly holding back, but still progressing at a decent rate with no one alongside her to push her on, either. Well, that’s gonna change.

  I stretched a bit as I walked before picking up the pace to a light jog out to the track, meeting up with Echo as she rounded the back corner. She ran right past me, leaving me to speed up and run alongside her. Every time I started to pull ahead, she tapped into something deeper and pushed ahead again.

  We went twice around the track, and I could feel the aching starting in my knee. I’d be walking with a limp for days, if I didn’t let up soon. I was supposed to be coaching Echo, not flat-out racing against her. There was a reason I was a coach and not a competitor.

  I slowed my pace, heading for a bench along the side and planting my foot on it, so I could pretend that I needed to adjust my laces while I massaged my knee. Echo went one more time around the track, before slowing to a walk and heading for me.

  She was breathing heavily, her face pink from the exertion, and a light sheen of sweat stood out along the bridge of her nose and at her temples. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail to run, and a few wisps had escaped and curled against her scalp from the humidity.

  It was chilly for September in San Diego and I could feel it in my aching joints.

  Echo didn’t look cold at all, though, which meant she was nice and warmed up.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” With her brows down and the furrow on her forehead, she looked hurt.

  “What? You think I knew?” I sputtered.

  “You said you were starting a fancy job. Why didn’t you say what that meant? Why didn’t you mention your new bosses were the Coulters?”

  “How is it you’re mad at me?” I shouted. “I’m the one you lied to.”

  “The only thing I lied about was my name, and I didn’t have much choice,” she said, refusing to back down.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit,” I snapped. “You lied about who you were because you were slumming it. Picking up a townie for a little fun.”

  “I had to protect myself and my family.” If looks could kill, the glare she shot at me would have me in the morgue. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Protect yourself? Really?”

  “You wouldn’t have been the first guy who was only interested in me because of my name or my family’s money,” she shrugged. “Even if it weren’t for my family and my reputation, I would have still used a fake name. I didn’t know you, I can’t really trust anyone. And that’s to say nothing of the media. The dutiful Coulter daughter out on the town, looking to hook up? The press would have a field day. There’s been more than one guy who's sold me out, looking to get top-dollar for getting past the ice princess’s defenses.”

  My jaw locked with a flash of shame for my entire gender. Before I could open my mouth to defend myself, Echo continued.

  “And don’t bother getting all high-and-mighty about me lying to you about my name that night. I only found out that day that my parents had hired someone to coach me. They didn’t tell me who, and they didn’t tell me ahead of time. But they should have because I can already tell that you suck at your job.”

  “You can tell that when you’ve known me for less than a day?” I crossed my arms over my chest, still indignant about her lies but intrigued at her unilateral dismissal of my undemonstrated capabilities. It was a shame such a promising athlete should also be a giant pain in the ass.

  “Well, what day was it my parents hired you? You knew you had the job when we met at the bar, so that day at the latest. And yet, you apparently didn’t bother doing any research on me before now. My family perhaps, but certainly not me, or you would have recognized me that night. I gave a false name but didn’t wear a wig or anything. And you didn’t do any research about me in the days since then, either, or you would have realized Cece was really me long before I showed up at lunch today.”

  Anger coursed through my veins. But I let her finish.

  “My parents might not have read much into your questions about my racing history during lunch but if you’re half the coach you’ve been selling yourself as, then you wouldn’t have had to ask. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t bother trying to shame me for going out to relieve the tension. Not when you’ve already told me you’re using me and my family’s name to make your career for yourself. So I suggest you quit lecturing me about lying to you that night and just…suck it up.”

  She pulled her cell phone from her pocket.

  “I have to head back and clean up,” she informed me. “You said this is your big shot to make a name for yourself. Well…you’re going to have to do better than what I’ve seen so far. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning and you can try again.”

  Spunk at last. Why did her giving me shit make me hard? You have problems.

  “Princess, you’re delusional if you think that I don’t do my research before I start anything. First, let’s be really clear that I did, in fact, tell you that you looked familiar to me. But—” I shrugged. “We’ll let that part go for now. You are one Echo Coulter. You posted impressive times all through high school and all through college, but you seem to lack the motivation to do anything other than fluff around with charity races. Things that don’t take any real work to run. Which is crazy, because with a little bit of work you could be amazing.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Where do you get off?” Anger had her body radiating tension, and had tinted her face a nice lobster color.

  “My bedroom, remember?” I laughed, the sound lacking humor. “But just so you know I’m not dicking around, your 1500 time is 4:10 at last check, though, in high school I happen to know you posted a 4:08, which is Olympic-qualifier standard, but you never did it again.”

  She frowned.

  “Oh, let me continue. This is fun. Your quarter mile time is good enough for the Olympics, at fifty-two flat. But again, you never seemed to run it except occasionally. Your 800 is even more impressive. I mean, two minutes flat. Why aren’t you competing? I know your 10k time of thirty-four minutes is good. Hell, it’s great, but it’s not stellar, but you continued to compete in that in college. Makes no sense to me. Unless you did it to make someone else happy, or your coach told you to. In which case he should be fired as it’s not your best event.”

  “You can stop now,” she muttered.

  “Had enough? Have you, Echo? Or shall I say, Cece? I know how to do my job. Granted, you wouldn’t know anything about that, since you’ve never had to work a day in your life.”

  For a moment I wondered if she would slap me. But instead she shook her head, her gaze killing me slowly as she backed away, leaving me where I stood. We’d both been right and we’d both been wrong.

  I’d done my research, just on what I thought was important, but I’d been sloppy. I should have grabbed a photo or a video, and not just her stats. Whatever she might think of me as a coach, I doubted she would go running to her parents to get me fired. At least, not yet.

  Or you could quit. But that wasn’t happening. I had too much riding on this. I should never have listened to Dylan about going out that night. Getting lucky. The luck I’d gotten that night with Echo was the worst luck of my life.

  10

  Echo

  I crouched by the basin of the toilet, my arms and legs shaking as I heaved up my lunch. I was pretty sure it was a result of stress, and not the fact that I’d eaten more than I should have for how much I’d just run. Or seeing Cole.

  I’d barely been pushing myself at all until Cole joined me on the track. I could have run more, except that I’d figured out exactly what I needed to say, and I needed to say it before I lost the courage to. Having gotten it off my chest, however, I’d made it to the toilet just in time.

  I coughed a bit to make sure there was nothing left in my throat, the acid from my stomach burning, and spat one last time before flushing the toilet and moving to the sink to rinse my mouth out. A quick glance in the mirror showed that there were tears in my eyes and cheeks. I swiped them away in frustration. Everything had backfired on me in the last two weeks, and I had no idea how to right the ship.

  I sent Jen a quick text before hopping in for a fast shower, and had her reply by the time I was dressed, my wet hair dampening the back of my shirt. Come over whenever.

  I didn’t even bother brushing my hair before I headed back to the club entrance to wait for my parents; I just shrugged into my coat and stuck my hair under my beanie.

  “Echo!”

  I heard Cole call to me from where he’d emerged from the men’s locker room, but I ignored him and dashed through the doors and into my parents’ waiting car.

  “Hey, could you drop me by Jen’s on the way home?” I asked. “She’s dying to hear about how things went today. I’ll have her bring me home in time for dinner.”

  “Why don’t you invite her to join us?” my mother suggested.

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Echo agreed. There was an optimism in Mom’s tone that Echo found reassuring. “So…how did the appointment go?”

  “The appointment itself was fine. Mostly just drawing some blood to run more tests,” my father explained with a nonchalant air. “Won’t have the results for a while.”

  “What kinds of tests are they running, exactly?”

  “We’ll wait to see how they turn out before we get into that,” Mom said.

  Way to shut the door on that line of questioning, Mom.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I really understand them all myself,” Dad joked in an effort to soften the evasion. “How did things go with Cole after we left? How’s this plan of his shaping up?”

  “We didn’t really discuss much,” I said with a shrug. I could be just as evasive as the two of them. “I ran a bit while he watched, but we’re going to meet up for a more proper evaluation tomorrow. I think I gave him a lot to think about, and that he’ll be making some revisions to whatever plan he told you about.”

  “Sounds like a start to me,” my mother said, cheerfully.

  Of course she could be cheerful. No one was forcing her to work with her one-night stand.

  We pulled up outside Jen’s building and I grabbed my duffel bag of gym things and my purse. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

  Jen opened the door before I finished knocking.

  “You look…terrible,” she said, looking me up and down. I pulled off my hat and shook out my still-damp hair. “Do you want to use my hair dryer?”

  “Please.” I dumped my duffel bag by the couch and followed Jen to her bedroom where my friend plugged the hair dryer in and handed me a brush along with the machine.

  “What the hell happened?” Jen asked, as hot air began to warm my scalp.

  “My one-night stand that you talked me into? Turns out he’s my new coach.”

  Jen’s jaw dropped as the implications hit her, followed by a brief burst of laughter.

  I turned on her. “It is not funny. It is horrible, and mortifying, and…humiliating. Which, yes, I know, is the same as mortifying, but it’s embarrassing enough to be repeated many, many times.”

  “Sorry, I know,” Jen agreed, choking on her laughter. “It’s not funny. It’s…everything you just said.”

  “How am I supposed to listen to the guy when I know he’s seen me naked? I lost my virginity to him. And he has no clue. And it’s not just the sex thing. Which is also ruined for me now, because it was that good, but…I told him about design school. I told him about my parents, and my dad being sick. Oh, and he is pissed at me for lying to him. As if I had some sort of say in any of this. The only thing I had a say in was how many orgasms I had, and even he took charge on that. And now he’s never going to let me live this down. He’s going to make my life miserable.”

  My friend’s brows shot up. “Wow, so that good, huh?”

  “Jen!”

  Jen laughed and shook her head, sending her russet waves spilling over her shoulders. “Sorry. Look, I think…you might be overreacting…” Jen said gently.

  “The guy hates me,” I assured her as I switched the hair dryer off and ran the brush through my hair. “He basically said as much that night when he was talking about his new job. He talked about how much he loathed the people he’d be working for. Of course, he didn’t go into specifics about what his job was going to be or just who he would be working for. No, no, that would have put me in a position where I could have avoided the whole thing.”

  “He doesn’t know you,” Jen emphasized. “He knows of you and your family but he has no idea what you’re capable of. If he thinks you’re some poor little rich girl who runs because she looks cute in a tracksuit…”

  I had to laugh at that.

  “You’ve survived your parents and your grandparents, not to mention your brothers,” Jen reminded me. “You can handle this guy. I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s what I’m here for,” Jen said with a shrug. “And not only can you handle whatever he throws at you, I think there’s plenty you could throw at him if it comes down to it.”

  “I’ll have to see how things go,” I muttered. “But it’s good to know I’ll have you there to help me if it goes in that direction.”

  11

  Cole

  I felt better prepared for Echo the next day, when I changed into my running gear and waited for her at the track. I was mentally prepared. Today, I was not going to think about how her nipples tasted, or how wet I could make her. I’d blown off Dylan and his friends the night before and stayed up half the night reworking my plan, doing in-depth research into Echo and her racing history, including her training. I had several pages of notes, and a few different approaches started, but I would need to do a personal assessment of her times and capabilities. Probably a few, if I could get some time booked at the indoor track.

  “You’re late,” I said when she arrived.

  “Actually, I’m five minutes early,” she informed me. “You’re my coach. You already have authority, so you don’t need to abuse it. And remember that there’s a difference between authority and respect. You have to earn—”

  She was such a fucking piece of work. No. Don’t let her get under your skin. Even if I liked it. “I’ve devised a new diet I want you to follow,” I interrupted, motioning to the binder under my arm where all of my materials resided. “I’ll give you a few copies before you go, but you will start following it when we break for lunch. This morning I want you running sprints. I need to get a better idea of what your times are today. The ones you had in high school and college are unlikely to still be relevant. Do you still have the occasional problem with your IT band? I looked at some of your films.”

  She smirked and I ignored her. “Sometimes. I’m good now, though.”

  “We’ll start with the 100 meter. I want to get several times for each distance, but you’ll obviously need to take longer breaks between heats as the distances get longer.”

  “I’m ready to go. Are we using blocks?” Echo asked as she went to the starting line.

  “No. Let’s face it, you’re not competing at 100-meter distance. You’ll be crushed. You should go longer.”

  I hustled down the track to the 100-meter mark I’d laid out and pulled out my stopwatch. I held up my hand until Echo gave a nod that she saw. I dropped my hand and pressed the button on the stopwatch simultaneously.