Smash and Grab

Chapter 7. Ashlynn

I join my teammates on the track for our warm-up laps and introductions. I’m so ready for this match! I can hardly wait to take my place among the pack and start the first jam of the night. This is where I feel like I belong the most. When I put on my crazy outfit and strap on my skates, it’s like all the stress and worry from my life melts away. Out here I’m fierce, not brash. I’m agile, not awkward. I’m a performer, not a nerd. It gives me a chance to ignore all the cr*p in my life that I can’t change. I can forget about my boss, Don, giving me twice as much work as the rest of my co-workers, hinting all the while that if I don’t perform at the top, I can kiss that promotion good-bye. I can ignore the list of about a hundred things I still have to do before La-la’s gender reveal party next week. I can shove aside the fact that I haven’t heard from Ben in two weeks.

That’s probably the hardest one to forget about, but I relentlessly push those thoughts aside and focus on my task. Skate. Kick ass. Repeat.

When the announcer calls out, “Number 412, Smash!” the crowd goes nuts. I tuck my arms in and spin in a circle, doing a pretty good impression of a figure skater, playing up to the crowd as they chant my name.

“Show boating a little there, don’t-cha think?” Paige, one of my competitors, derby name ‘Duchess,’ smirks at me.

I smirk right back at her. “You’re just jealous because they love me and we’re going to kick your ass tonight,” I say with saccharine sweetness.

She laughs good naturedly. “In your dreams!”

It’s one of the things about this sport that drew me in: the comradery not only among teammates, but among everyone who competes. Duchess and I are definitely trash talking each other, but there’s no hint of animosity in our exchanged words. It’s part of the fun of competition.

After a few playful laps, we head to our designated areas to wait for the match to begin and I let my eyes wander over the crowd. Their energy and excitement fuels me, I love watching the expressions on their faces. There’s a couple of teenage girls that are cheering their asses off, and I make a mental note to find them later and invite them to join our teen night. Always good to recruit the next wave of badass girls. I find Ash and La-la sitting half-way up the bleachers and wave back to her as she sees me looking at her. She motions to the side, not that she needed to, and I try to contain my groan as my eyes land on Ben, sitting next to Ash.

Cr*p.

“What’s up?” Mischief, one of my teammates asks.

“Remember the guy I told you about?” I say quietly. When she nods, I let out a sigh. “He’s sitting with Ash and La-la.”

Apparently, she is not a believer in being subtle. At all. She jumps up and scans the crowd. “Where?!” she squeals.

I roll my eyes behind her back. “Way to not make it obvious! Ten o’clock, mid-level.”

“Oh my god! I know you said he was older, but he could be your grandfather!”

“What?” I turn back and my eyes meet Ben’s. I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, but manage to look away to see the elderly man sitting on the other side of Kayla. “Not him, weirdo,” I hiss at her. “On the other side. Sitting next to Ash.”

“Oh my,” she swoons dramatically, hand on her forehead and doing an impressive back bend in her skates, fanning herself with her other hand. Yeah, I need to show her the definition of subtle. “And you only had one ride on that stud? I would’ve kept that hunk of handsome tied up for at least a week.”

I have to admit, he does look good. Too good. He’s wearing a dark green button up shirt under a black leather jacket, and looks good enough to eat. I blush even harder at the thought, and quickly turn away when he raises a questioning eyebrow at me. “I cannot believe she brought him!” I whine.

“I’m confused,” Mischief says, turning to me. “Don’t you think he’ll be impressed? I mean, you do kind of kick ass on the track. Besides, you look hot,” she says as she slaps my ass. I’m blushing so hard, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again.

“I think I’ll be sweaty and gross by the end of the match,” I huff. “Although, I do look pretty hot right now. Maybe I can sneak out before he gets a whiff of me later.” I’m wearing my team uniform of a neon green racer-back tank top with a built-in sports bra that, for some reason, gives me pretty impressive cleavage, and royal blue booty shorts. I paired it with neon green fishnet stockings and neon orange knee-high socks with a white stripe around the top that remind me of traffic cones. I’m the team’s pivot tonight, so I top the outfit with the blue helmet cover with a stripe that makes me stand out.

She rolls her eyes at me and smirks. “Girl, if you didn’t get sweaty while y’all were bumping uglies, you did it wrong!” I snort as she wiggles her eyebrows at me and makes a rude gesture with her hand, tongue in cheek.

“Oh my God!” I smack her arm. “Stop that!” Thankfully, she has her back to Ben and I can only hope he couldn’t tell what she was just implying.

I have to put everything out of my head as they announce the first jam and I take my position on the track. Our opposing team is fierce, and we’re fairly evenly matched. The competition is intense, though. We’re nearing the end of the season, and although we’re all bruised and sore, we want to end on a high note so everyone is giving it our all. One of the girls goes down in front of me, and in order to avoid skating over her face, I lurch to the side. Unfortunately, my skates get tangled with hers and I go down on my ass, hard. I grunt, but get back up and quickly catch up to the pack. You don’t play this sport if you can’t take a hit or two.

I feel, more than see, the opposing team’s jammer coming up behind me on my right and throw my hip out to block her. She drops away and we all hear her cry of pain. Real pain. The referee blows his whistle to pause the jam, but we all were slowing down already. She’s holding her ankle and grimacing. We’ve all been there- hell, I broke my ankle a few years back- but it still sucks when it happens. I feel guilty and start replaying the move in my head, trying to sort out if I did something wrong.

The medics help her off the track and we resume our positions. The call is made that I didn’t do anything illegal, it’s just part of the game. I shake it off, consoling myself by making a mental promise to check on her later, and get back into my groove. The Demolition Dolls are up by fifteen points and I’m not about to waste that lead.

Two more jams later and the final score is 118 to 110, Demolition Dolls are victorious once again. I’m practically floating, it was a great match. I stop by the opposing team’s side and check on their jammer, Nike, and feel better knowing she’ll be ok. She’s icing her ankle, but it’s just a sprain, at least she didn’t break it.

I join my team for our celebration lap, which ends with us skating by the audience, giving high fives to anyone who lines up alongside the track. The last person in the line almost makes me fall on my ass again. As my hand connects with Ben’s, he tightens his grip and pulls me into him, crushing his mouth down on mine. It shocks me, but I soon give in. I’m sweaty and I’m sure my make-up is smeared beyond repair, but he’s solid and feels like the best part of our victory.

I pull away from the kiss, panting, but I don’t know if it’s from the physical exertion of the game, or the fact that he just kissed my socks off. Damn, I could kiss this man all night and never get tired of it. There’s whooping and cheering as my team watches me being man-handled, and I blush crimson.

“Climb that mountain, girl!” Mischief calls out and I shoot a glare at her as she smirks at me. She turns around and shakes her ass at me before s******g it. That’s it, she’s getting extra laps in our next practice!

“They sure are a lively bunch,” Ben chuckles.

I turn back to him, relieved he’s smiling and seems to be taking my team’s teasing in stride. “I think the word you’re looking for is lunatics,” I shake my head, trying not to be too embarrassed.

His eyes darken as he looks at me. The intensity in his gaze makes me want to look away, but I feel like I can’t move. His hand is still holding me, but he may as well have me pinned down. “Lunatics is right,” his deep voice sucks me in and I want to move closer. Want to feel the vibrations in his chest as he talks, to feel his breath on my skin. It feels like we’re the only two people here, and although I know I need to pull away, to get back to clean up and all the little parts of post-match, I can’t help but enjoy these little stolen moments with him. “You scared the hell out of me when you went down. I guess now I know how you got that bruise.”

The corner of my mouth pulls up in a grin at the concern I can hear in his voice. “It can be a little intense,” I admit, “but it’s freaking fun!”

He laughs and pulls me closer. “And you look f*cking hot,” he whispers in my ear.

I realize too late that the problem with this shirt is it has zero padding. My n*pples are now rock hard and pointing directly at the object of their fascination.

“Smash!” La-la squeals and launches herself at me through the crowd. “That was ahh-mazing!”

Ash smiles at me as he pushes through the crowd after her. “We’re going for some drinks. Can you join us?”

“Oh, umm…” I glance around me, knowing it’s probably going to be another hour or more before I can get away.

“Yes, she can!” Mischief sings out, skating up next to me. “I got you covered, girl,” she winks at me, bumping her hip with mine, making me wince as she gets me directly on a fresh bruise.

“I… I really should help,” I hate leaving before the work is done, but Mischief is shaking her head at me.

“Nope, you earned it,” she smiles at me. Ok, maybe she won’t get extra laps next practice after all.

“Are you sure?” I ask, looking at the rest of my team who are all smiling, nodding, and one or two mouth ‘get laid!’ and I can only hope Ben doesn’t notice.

“Completely and totally sure!” Mischief says happily. She leans close and whispers, “I need details. My two-year-old is going through a phase and Jim and I haven’t had sexy time in months!”

And now I’m blushing again.

Ben lifts an eyebrow, and I’m pretty sure he heard what she said. She was whispering, but she’s still not the queen of subtlety. “Those girls that were in the second row,” I remember suddenly. “Can you-“

“Give them a pamphlet and invite them to teen night,” she completes. “Already done and they are stoked!”

“And don’t forget-“

“The back door sticks so I have to jiggle it a little to make sure it locks,” she rolls her eyes at me. “Would you get out of here already?”

I sigh in defeat and smile at my friends. “Give me fifteen minutes to clean up and get changed, ok?”

“Awe, can you at least bring the outfit with you?” Ben winks at me with a devious grin.

Mischief snorts and starts to skate away, but I clearly hear her say, “My girl is so getting laid tonight,” as she goes.