this fire

 

chapter one

 

She stood behind the blocks at an empty pool; an empty arena. It was eerie - a ten thousand seat arena with a pool in the middle, completely deserted. There wasn't a soul around except for her.

 

Stretching, she positioned herself on the blocks and counted to five in her head. On five, she dove into the water and swam a hundred meter freestyle as fast as she could.

 

When she surfaced at the blocks, she was startled to find a curly blond head and an unshaven face leaning over the pool.

 

"AAH!" she screamed.

 

"AAH!" he replied.

 

She grabbed onto the rope. "You scared me half to death!" she informed him.

 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I saw the water going and thought I'd come check it out. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Aaron." He held out his hand for her to shake.

 

Treading water, she shook it. "Madelaine," she replied. "Laney."

 

"Not Maddy?" he asked.

 

"I like to be different." She grinned. "Let me get out."

 

"No, don't stop swimming on my account. Actually, you mind if I join you? I came to swim 'cause I thought it was empty."

 

"No problem." She hung her arms over the rope and watched as he took off his sweatpants and unzipped his jacket. "What's your event?" she asked.

 

He shrugged off his jacket. "Back and free.  You?"

She waited till he'd jumped in and resurfaced before answering. "Free." She smiled. "And back."

 

He grinned at her and nodded. "Hey, I'll race you."

 

She laughed. "Ok." She turned away. "Wait," she said, turning back. "What do I get when I win?"

 

He raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure you'll win?"

 

"I will. What do I get?"

 

He thought for a minute. "I'll buy you dinner. Tonight?"

 

"Why, Aaron, I do believe you're flirting with me," she said with a laugh.

 

"Does that bother you?"

 

"Nope."

 

Aaron laughed. "And if I win, you can buy me dinner," he said.

 

She nodded in agreement and swam over the rope to the next lane. "Usual rules apply. Count of three, cheater buys dinner. Otherwise the loser does."

 

Aaron chuckled and agreed, and they got ready to race. Madelaine counted and they were off down the fifty-meter pool.

 

Madelaine reached the end first, but Aaron turned and went back the other way, swimming a hundred meters.  "Hey!" he called.

 

"I thought we were swimming one length!" she yelled back.  He laughed and she swam towards him.  "Maybe we should have clarified that," she said.

 

He laughed.  "Maybe.  So who won?"

 

"I did, as I got to the fifty meter mark first."

 

"Yes, but I got to the hundred meter mark first."

 

"I am in a quandary," she announced, leaning on the rope.  He laughed.  "Who says that?"

 

"I do.  I think maybe we should race again."

 

"Ok.  Hundred meters?"

 

"Sounds good."

 

She counted to three again, and they were off.

 

"HA!" she announced when she touched the wall.  "I told you!"

 

Aaron shook his head.  "You so did not win.  I beat you."

 

"Nah.  I kicked your ass."

 

He looked thoughtful.  "I suppose it'd be easier to tell if it wasn't just the two of us."

 

She reached over and ran a finger down his stubbly cheek.  "You should not shave more often."  He raised an eyebrow.  "Slows you down."

 

Laughing, he went under the water.  "I see how you are," he said when he came back up.  He climbed out of the pool and rubbed his hair with a towel.  He smiled at her where she was watching him curiously from the pool.  "I've got to run.  Meet you here at seven?  I'll buy you dinner even though you lost."  She nodded and stared after him as he walked away.  Shaking her head, she continued to swim.

 

When she finished and headed toward the locker room, a vision of him walking away remained in her mind's eye.  She sighed as she went over to where she'd stored her clothing and shower items.  He was cute.  And nice.  And since she tended to be a pathological flirt, she figured maybe she could flirt with him a little more.  As she washed her hair she wondered if he'd shave before their dinner.  She hoped not.  She liked scruffy looking guys (though she decided scruffy wasn't quite the right word for Aaron; she couldn't think of anything else), and he was certainly near the top of her "Looks Fantastic With Stubble List."  As she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she shook her head, both to get some extra water out of her short hair and to shake away the thoughts of him so she could remember how to get back to her dorm room.  She dressed and left the arena, heading in what she hoped was the correct direction.

 

"You have a certain glow to you," her roommate Brooke, barely looking up from her book.  They'd only known each other for a little more than a week, but they got along very well and became fast friends.

 

Laney smiled.  "I'm going out tonight."

 

"Meet a guy at the pool, did we?" Brooke asked.

 

"Maybe I'm going to a party."

 

"Not a chance.  Plus you don't have time to party, as you have told me grudgingly so many times.  You have to train so you can make the team."

 

"You know me."

 

"You don't stop whining about it."

 

"I can't help it.  I've never not partied before."

 

Brooke rolled her eyes.  "I can't believe you came all the way from London, where I’m sure there were a very large number of cute guys, to Texas, only to keep something like this huge crush I know you have from your roommate, the first person you’ve met since you moved back to America.”

 

Laney looked indignant.  "I do not get crushes.  And shut up."

 

"Let me guess," Brooke said as though Laney hadn't spoken.  "Oh God, now I have to remember the names of the swimmers who go here.  Brendan Hansen?  No, he's ugly.  And too short.  And graduated.  Same with Ian Crocker.  And I don’t think I know anybody else who swims here.”  Brooke looked thoughtful for a moment, and Laney stared at her, a smirk on her face.  “Aaron Peirsol!” Brooke exclaimed, pointing at her roommate and narrowing her eyes.  When Laney had no response, Brooke grinned.  “I knew it.”

 

“How can you say that when I didn’t even respond?  I was standing here the same way I’ve been standing here for the past five minutes.”

 

“Yes...except you blushed when I said the name ‘Aaron.’  Nicely done.”

 

“Damn it.”

 

Brooke laughed.  “So?  Aren’t you going to fill me in?  I know you’re dying to.”

 

“Agh.  Fine, you awful woman.  So I was swimming,” she said, sitting cross-legged on Brooke’s bed, “and he popped up out of nowhere.  And then I kicked his ass and he’s taking me to dinner tonight.”

 

“What?  How did you get dinner after you kicked his ass?”

 

“He seems to think it was the other way around.  Whatever.”

 

Brooke raised an eyebrow at Laney.  “You kicked his ass and he still wants to be around you?”

 

“It was a race.  I’m faster than he is.  Of course, he hadn’t shaved, so I think if he had, he’d probably be another half a second faster, which might have changed the outcome, but-”

 

Laney was cut off by a pillow across the face.  “I don’t know anything about swimming, and please stop talking about Aaron Peirsol shaving, as my mind is starting to travel to a very bad place.”

 

This time Brooke was the one to receive a pillow in the face.