The pool shimmered under the harsh glow of the overhead lights, the smell of chlorine clinging thick in the air. It was well past practice hours, the water eerily still, and the only sound was the faint hum of the filtration system. Emma's bare feet echoed softly against the tiled floor as she walked in, a duffel slung over her shoulder.
She wasn't supposed to be here this late but Coach Miller had told her, "If you want to swim in the next meet, you'll need extra sessions. One-on-one. My rules."
She hadn't missed the way his eyes had lingered not just on her form in the water, but on the curve of her hip when she walked away from him after practice. It was dangerous, intoxicating, and exactly the sort of thing Emma had been craving without even knowing it.
When she pushed open the pool
