I’m amazed at this asshole’s incredible ability.
He makes it to the end within seconds, flips under the water, and kicks off the edge, then goes at it again. By the time he makes it to the other side, no more than forty or fifty seconds have passed. I’m exhausted for him, but he surprises me when he climbs back out, glares at the water, and then steps back onto the platform.
“Wait for me,” the dude calls out to him.
“Brady, that’s all I do when we race.” Ashton laughs at him.
The dude—Brady—just grins back. They both perch onto their spots and then someone blows a whistle.
Again, Ashton flies through the water. Brady is so far behind him, it’s almost laughable. When I hear a laugh—one that sounds bitter and nasty—I reluctantly drag my gaze over to the sound of it.
Some dickhead is standing near Ashton’s stuff. He manages to stop glaring at the pool long enough to edge closer. There’s intent written all over his twerp face. When he bends over Ashton’s bag, I abandon my own to stalk over to him.
“Yo, not your shit.”
His head whips up and he winces. “What?”
“You know what,” I say lowly. “You’re lingering like you’re going to do something to his bag. Beat it, asshole.”
His lip curls up in disgust. “You don’t belong here, hockey prick.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Something clicks. I know this guy. He was fucking with Mia at the game she came to. Stepping up to him, I poke his chest.
“You don’t belong here, standing over Ashton’s fucking bag, fuckface.”
He tries to stand up to me, but I’m taller, stronger, and meaner. I’m not about to kick someone’s ass and get booted from the hockey team, but I’m also not about to let him creep around Mia’s best friend’s shit.
“What’s up, dick licker?”
Ashton’s smartass words arrive moments before he does. Then, he’s standing beside me, dripping and rippling with a storm of adrenaline and barely suppressed rage. I figure it’s aimed toward me, but he’s staring right at fuckface.
“I can’t figure you out, Ashton,” the guy says. “First you’re with guys. Then you’re fucking around with girls. Now you’re blowing jocks like this asshole. I thought you were gay. Maybe you’re bi. One thing’s for sure, you’re a fucking whore.”
I snort out a laugh. “No, wiseass. Your mom’s a whore.”
It’s so juvenile, but it has Ashton laughing.
The guy’s face turns purple, but I have to give him credit, he isn’t backing down from this standoff.
“All this time off, Travis,” Ashton says lowly, his voice a menacing growl, “has given me time to practice. I’m pretty sure I shaved two seconds off my best time on the one hundred-meter butterfly. What was your best time again?” Ashton shoves past him, scooping up his bag before sneering at Travis. “Oh, that’s right. Always several seconds behind me.”
Ashton storms off toward the locker room without looking back. I smirk at Travis before heading back over to my bag. My phone buzzes in my hoodie pocket. I pull it out to read the text.
Mia: Did you study, mister? You have a test Thursday.
Grinning, I reply.
Me: Too busy thinking about you.
I really have been studying for it, but it’s more fun to tease her.
Mia: Gag. Ew. Don’t say corny pickup lines like that. I’m allergic.
Me: Fine. I studied, ice princess.
Mia: I think you meant ass princess since that’s where I ended up on our date.
Me: We could always go on another date soon… somewhere softer for that cute ass. Like my lap.
Mia: Gag. Again. You’re killing me.
Me: Friday, after the game, I’ll take you out for dinner and I’ll throw all my pickup lines at you. I won’t be able to get rid of you after that. You’ll be a goner for my maddening charm.
Mia: Definitely maddening. As enticing as that is, I can’t. For real this time.
Me: Ashton?
The dots move and stop a few times before she replies.
Mia: No. Why?
Me: He’s your best friend.
Mia: Oh, lol. No, I’m going to California to visit my mom and dad.
Me: The mom you don’t get along with? Need a wingman?
Mia: I wish. I’ll manage a way to get through.
Me: When you get back, I’ll reward you with pineapple pizza, even if it is the grossest shit I’ve ever seen.
Mia: Sounds like a date!
Dates with Mia distract me from things like unwanted kisses from Drew.
Asshole.
“Why are you here?” Ashton grunts, no longer half naked and wet. He’s changed back into his clothes and has his bag slung over his shoulder. His hair is wet on the roots around his ears and along his neck where the cap rode up.
“Watching you.”
“Got that, stalker. Why?”
“You didn’t tell me you were half merman.”
He lifts a brow. “Of all the fucking shit you could come up with? Merman?” He shakes his head and walks back toward the doors.
I snag my bag and trot after him. “Would you prefer whale?”
He shoots me the bird over his head.
“Fine, fucker, you swim like a dolphin. Happy?”
His head turns so he can sear me with his probing hazel eyes. “A little.”
Laughing, I follow him out into the hall and then out the side door. As soon as we step outside, snowflakes flutter around. We’ve been having small flurries, but nothing’s sticking yet. It’s going to be one helluva winter if we’re already getting hit with snow.
“It’s fucking cold out here,” he whines, squinting against the wind. “Why are you following me?”
I reach into the side of my bag and yank out a beanie. “Put this on, whiny.”
Rather than glaring at my Ice Hawks beanie like it’s a snake, he yanks it out of my hand and pulls it on over his head. I’m surprisingly grateful he took it without argument.
“You’re a good swimmer,” I tell him when we reach the parking lot where his car sits
