Stronger

  Stronger

  Blue Ashcroft

  Published by Blue Ashcroft

  Copyright 2013. Blue Ashcroft

  Cover design: Clarissa Yeo@bookcoversale.com

  Formatting: Polgarus Studio

  ISBN: 978-0-9887912-8-2

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at blueashcroft@gmail.com.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any events or locations depicted are also fiction and figments of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Hot or not, Geoff Richards is a huge Douche.

  Just sitting there, huge, tatted arms crossed behind his smug head, leaning back on his chair, gray eyes pinned on mine, shaggy black hair shadowing his forehead and ears. I want to punch him. Right in the face. But I’m a lady.

  “So now that your fave lady-dude’s taken, you gonna give a real dude a try?” he drawls, looking deceptively relaxed as I watch Ally follow Ryan out for lunch.

  I simply glare at him.

  He jerks his head in Ally’s direction. “I told you she was into dudes. I got hired with her. We’re tight. She don’t swing that way. Too bad for you I guess.”

  I repress a sigh. Ally’s a gorgeous girl, and tall and butch and confident, and if I did really like girls, I’d like her. But I don’t really know what I like.

  “Don’t look so down. Probably get another chick that’s into chicks here soon. Unless you’re actually interested in men, in which case, I could oblige you.” He winks and crosses his legs on the table.

  A temptation to kick his chair legs and knock him over runs through me, but I breathe through it till it’s gone. “If I am interested in men, I’m not interested in you,” I mutter, standing to go to my locker. Somehow, even though I’ve been working here since I was fifteen, I have one of the crappiest lockers. Right in a corner, destined to knock elbows with everyone on both walls.

  Bam. I look up to see Geoff above me, one huge arm on my locker, the other in his pocket. Ominous.

  “What do you want?” I slam the locker and try to leave but he crowds me in by putting his other hand on the locker, trapping me against it.

  “Why not me?”

  “Because you’re a pig.”

  “Pig?” His eyes narrow, darkening the light gray of his irises.

  Everything about him screams man, from the clean, piney scent that must be his shower gel, to the dark shadow on his chiseled jaw, to his height at six foot something, to the wide spread of his shoulders, and the tattoos running down his arms in sleeves. All man. That’s probably why I hate him.

  He’s not classically handsome, like Knight, or model beautiful, like Ryan. No, I have to be attracted to the guy with rough features, like they were cut out of clay with too sharp of motions, with that square jaw and scruff and wide, muscled body.

  He has such beautiful shoulders though. Bigger than anyone else here, and strong arms that taper to nice hands. His legs are nice too. Long, solid, and muscled.

  “You don’t look at me like I’m a pig,” he murmurs.

  I plant my hands square in his chest and push him away. “Yeah right.”

  “Oh come on babe, why fight it?” I hear him push off the locker to follow me.

  I gasp when something touches my ass and spin around to slap him squarely in the face. “You want to be fired?”

  “Damnit, that was an accident, was trying to grab a sticker off your back.”

  “Yeah, I guess all ass grabs are accidents.”

  “No, not all. I can do a good ass grab if I want to. But this wasn’t. Look in the mirror if you don’t believe me.”

  “What girl wants her ass grabbed?” I look in the mirror. There’s a sticker on my lower back. Damn.

  “You’d be surprised.” He grins and rubs his cheek with his hand. “Damn girl, you hit like a dude. Who’da guessed we got a fighter under all that fluffy hair?”

  I bristle. I can’t help the thickness of my hair. My moms haven’t told me my background, but I suspect one of my birth parents had really thick, wiry hair, and the other had really fine soft hair, and now mine is thick and soft, flying everywhere in the damn California humidity and constantly giving Geoff something to poke fun at.

  I try to fluff my hair at the roots but smooth the rest down. It fails so I grab a ponytail off my wrist with my mouth and pull it back.

  My mom Tina likes to say they would have named me Lady if they’d known how my hair was going to grow in. Like Lady and the Tramp. I guess Geoff could be the tramp, except even the Tramp is more elegant than Geoff, who happens to be still grinning over the memory of ass grabs past.

  I wonder what they would feel like, but I can feel a blush burning up my cheeks at the thought and push it away.

  Geoff pushes away from the mirror, satisfied that his cheek isn’t marred, but then his smile falls. He looks kinda scary when he’s not smiling. His harsh brows come down and his jaw tightens. He’s very readable.

  I’m about to leave the guard room to go back on duty when he speaks.

  “Hey Amy, what did you mean about all ass grabs being accidents?”

  “That was a little thing I like to call sarcasm.”

  “No, I mean, is someone grabbing your ass?”

  “What does it look like?” I raise an eyebrow. I like to take things literally. It annoys Neanderthals.

  He frowns, shoves his hands in his pockets, and comes forward, backing me up into the table. I grab a chair and sit. He looks at the clock, then back at me. I hate when we’re on break together. With two rotations, there are always two guards, but why does it have to be him.

  “We still got five minutes. You leaving to get away from me?”

  “Of course.” What does he think? That I’d want to stay here and listen to his inane ramblings about me needing a man and how good ass grabs can feel? I pull out my phone and start texting. He grabs it out of my hand. “Hey!”

  “Hold on. Answer my question. For real this time, smarty pants.”

  “Fine. What was your question?”

  “Are you, no, have you gotten your ass grabbed? Like when you didn’t want it.”

  I take a deep breath, praying for patience. I don’t like spending this much time in his presence. It does something to me. I like the way he smells. I like how big he is. I like how completely opposite he is to me. Just one problem, I hate that I like it.

  “Sure, what girl hasn’t?”

  “Recently though?” He straddles a chair instead of sitting forward (the right way) on it. Just like Ally. But about a million times more masculine. Which is really saying something, since we’re talking about Ally here.

  “Hm.”

  “Come on. I’ll give back your phone…”

  “It’s none of your business. You’ll give my phone back now, or I’ll go to Knight.”

  “Tattle tale.” Geoff rests his head on the top of the chair. With his dark eyes and shaggy hair, he looks a bit like a stray puppy when he’s pouting. Knight and him go way back. He doesn’t want trouble with Knight.

  No one wants trouble with Knight.

  “Give me my phone.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Who was who?”

  �
�Who grabbed your ass?”

  “None of your business.” I stand up and reach for his hands, but my phone isn’t there. It’s disappeared. I reach for his pocket.

  “Whoa! Watch it!” He pushes me back.

  “Give me my phone.”

  “Tell me who grabbed your ass.”

  “It’s none of your business,” I whine. I slump back on my chair. “Besides, there’s been so much more than ass grabbing, I can’t keep track of it all.” I was whirlpooled last season, and then nearly raped by two coworkers after that. In fact, Geoff is one of their replacements, though I’m sure he has no idea why we suddenly had two openings.

  Men are crass, and harsh, and when I try to open up to them, it just goes wrong. Maybe that’s part of why I like girls. Girls don’t try to hurt you. At least I’ve never had it happen. Rain was even there for me, helping when I got in trouble with the guys.

  Plus, men don’t smell as good, or feel as soft. But there’s still something about them…

  “Names and addresses,” he says in a low voice.

  “What?” I look up, and he’s no longer resting his head on the chair, but rather staring at his knuckles as he cracks them ominously.

  “Names and addresses, pretty please,” he adds ingenuously.

  “Why?”

  “No reason,” he says.

  “Forget this. Give me my phone.”

  He pulls it out with an exaggerated sigh and sends it across the table. “Tell me if it happens again, Dollface.”

  I screw up my nose. “Dollface?”

  “Yeah, heard it in a gangster movie last night. Girl was pretty, wavy hair like yours.”

  I fight off a blush. His compliments are stupid, and I don’t want to be affected by them.

  “You know Dollface, if you got a problem like that, tell me.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I’d protect you.”

  I bristle again. He has a way of making me feel like a cat with its claw in an electrical socket. “I don’t need your protection. I just need men to stop being douchebags.”

  He frowns. “Ain’t that the truth.” For a moment, his eyes look sad, and his big body slumps slightly, and I don’t know what I set off inside him, but I wish I could take it back.

  “Anyway, Dollface, let me know if you need me,” he says, pulling his whistle out of his pocket and throwing it over his head to walk out the front door. “I don’t put up with anyone giving girls shit.” He clenches one large hand into a fist and the knuckles crack. “I handle them.”

  I gulp. Such a disgusting display of raw, masculine anger that I’m baffled as to why it turns me on. Just a bit. He seems like such a simple, ridiculous person, but as he strides back out onto the deck in his dirty tank and wrinkled shorts, grinning and returning a high five with another male guard, I can’t help wondering if there’s more to him than meets the eye.

  And once again, I find myself thinking about ass grabs and wondering how one can actually feel good. I shudder, and the guard door opens.

  “Amy, breaks over, you need to rotate,” Knight says, blue eyes narrowing at me from where he stands just inside the guard room. “I shouldn’t have to remind you. You’ve been here long enough.”

  “I know,” I say. I smile at him and bounce up to get going. “Thanks Knight.” I give him a pat on the shoulder as I go out the door, and he grins and shakes his head.

  When I get to the first spot on rotation, Meghan sighs. “Thank goodness. I can’t do another minute on the kiddy pool.”

  “I got it,” I say. “Hey, you get the slide tower next.”

  “Joy,” she mutters. “Hey, thanks for bringing lunch.”

  “No problem, it’s more fun to cook for two anyway.” Meghan’s family is struggling right now. Her mom just left her dad, and I like helping anyone who is having a hard time.

  “Amy, you’re the best,” Meghan says, her eyes soft and suspiciously glittery, like she wants to cry.

  “Hang in there, girly,” I say, giving her a pat and turning my attention to the water so she can rotate. She leaves with a bounce in her step and I grin. I like making people feel better. I like solving problems. And it’s easy for me to be nice to people. As long as they aren’t Geoff Richards.

  He’s over at the lap pool, strong and serious as he walks up and down it. Hmph. Like he’s fooling anyone. He’s probably just planning out his next ass grab, or formulating weird revenge plans against imaginary villains. Nothing of higher reasoning capability could be going on in that stupid, hot head.

  Surely.

  Geoff

  I bribed Sam to let me take his place on rotation so I could be on break with Amy. We should get off at the same time too, if things go right.

  Today’s the day to take the next step.

  I stare at the clock. It never moves. I make a couple more passes up and down the lap lane, and then finally see Sam coming to rotate me off. FINALLY.

  And there’s my lady now, headed for the guard room. I pick up my pace to get over there, but realize that if she sees me coming, she’ll either try to wait until I leave, or run out before I can catch her. This requires an ambush. I duck into Knight’s office.

  “Geoff, you’re not supposed to hide out here.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Knight spins on his chair to face me. “What’s up?”

  “Nuttin’.”

  “What are you doing then?” He joins me near the door and looks out the window. “Oh…”

  “Yeah.” I rub my hands together. “I think she’s warming up to me.”

  Knight says nothing, just moves his chair back to his desk and makes little clicking typing noises.

  “What?” I ask, suspicious.

  “Oh, nothing.” He clicks and types and refuses to face me.

  “Knight…what the hell?”

  He sits back with a sigh. “I just, that’s a tough one. I don’t think you’re her type.”

  “She likes dudes too. I can tell.”

  “That said, you’re still not her type.”

  “Why?”

  Knight turns off the computer and passes me to go on deck and issue the closing whistle. Guards start to leave their post. I need to get out there before someone else snatches up my lady, but Knight’s being weird and I need to know why. “Because, while I have seen Amy flirt with guys, they’re generally really…”

  “What?”

  “Clean cut. Almost feminine.”

  “Oh.”

  “And that’s…not you.”

  “HELL no.”

  He raises both eyebrows, like he’s ramming something home, then turns back to his work.

  “So she likes the pretty boys, huh?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m not going to discourage you, but I thought I’d warn you.”

  “Whatever. She doesn’t know what she wants. I’mma show her.” I flex in the mirror and grin. I have muscles for days to change that head of hers. Oh man, her hair. So soft. Want to touch…don’t get distracted Geoff. We have a mission.

  And that body…

  Damn.

  All short and curvy and wrapped up in the perfect package to put on the back of my bike or in my lap or, for that matter, in my bed. Mmm. “Gotta go,” I tell Knight, kicking the office door open.

  “Don’t kick the door—” Knight says. “Oh man, what is it with you and Ally and refusing to use handles unless you have to?”

  “That’s just it, we don’t have to,” I say, kicking the door shut behind me with a grin.

  I scan the deck for my target. She’s not in the guard room. She’s headed out the back door, I can see her soft hair bouncing, her cute pink shirt and tiny skirt.

  I run to the guard room, trying to be quiet so she doesn’t see me. Lucky for me, Angie stops her on the way out to talk, so I got time.

  I yank my locker open and it slams into the one next to it, denting it. Damnit.

  I yank out a shirt and throw it on. I reach for the top of my guard sh
orts, and a shriek interrupts me.

  “Eek! Geoff, you can’t dress in here, how many times have I told you?” Rain covers her eyes and waves her hand. “Don’t you dare change in here.”

  “Fine, fine,” I say. I jump in the bathroom to pull on my jeans. No way I’m going out to meet Amy with my guard shorts hanging out of my pants. I step into my shoes and slam my locker and run out. I don’t need to lock it ‘cause I got nothin’ in there worth stealing.

  Amy’s head disappears through the door. Oh no she doesn’t. I’m there in a second and yank it open. It slams the wall next to me. Whoops. Too strong again.

  I scan for Amy. She’s almost to her car. She’s been putting me off for over a year, and I’m not gonna have it anymore. What kind of actual gay girl chases a straight girl for that long, unless she doesn’t want her to take her up on what she’s offering? And now she can focus on me. Maybe even help me answer some questions I’ve had for a long time, about something very important.

  But first, we need to be friends.

  Don’t get me wrong, I can do the big dumb guy act when it serves my purpose, but I’m not really dumb. It’s just easier for me if people think that way.

  “Amy!” I call out, before she can open her car door.

  Her head snaps up in recognition, and her hair bounces, reflecting sunlight. Her beautiful, round, brown eyes meet mine and narrow in a displeased fashion. Shit, already on a bad start.

  “What?” she says, looking like there’s no answer I can give that will wipe the frown off her face.

  “Let’s go out. Tonight.”

  Her mouth curls. “Not a chance.” She goes for her door but I rush to slide myself in front of it.

  “Come on, let me wine and dine ya.”

  Her mouth curls up further, morphing her whole face into a mask of disgust. “Ew.”

  My face falls, for a second. But this is all part of the game. “You can pick the restaurant.”

  “Oh lucky, lucky me,” she says. “No thanks. Move away from my car.”

  Hm. Not going well. As usual. But why does look like me up and down like she wants to lick me, like she did earlier in the locker room, if she hates me that much?