Blake and I are just friends. That's right, just best friends. It doesn't even matter that he's perfect boyfriend material, because he's way out of my league and a permanent resident of the friend zone.
Gwinnie
When my ailing grandpa asks me to come and take care of him, I don't think twice about it. Moving back home seems like the perfect idea after a career-ending injury that left me with a prosthetic leg. That is, until I arrive and my plans to lay low crumble faster than an old taco shell. First of all, Grandpa's new obsession with Zumba classes proves that he doesn't need my help at all. Becoming a substitute PE teacher at the same school my best friend Blake works at wasn't part of the plan either.
So what if he's insanely hot and sweet and has got abs The Rock would be jealous of? To me, he's just Blake Wilson, the guy I've known for over a decade and share all my secrets with. Okay, so maybe there is one teeny tiny secret I'm not telling him.
Blake
Nothing exciting ever happens in my hometown, so Gwinnie Fletcher—former swim star and my gorgeous best friend—moving back is quite the shock. After everything she's been through these past few years, asking her to help coach the swim team might be a stretch, but we need her. Five seasons of failing to secure a spot in the state finals means desperation.
Ironically, while she keeps us from drowning in losses, I seem to be floating straight into a pool of feelings for her. Too bad she only cares about swimming and not about leaving the friend zone with me.
