Fierce by Kathryn Thomas Page A

going, and she liked his earring and his stubble. His friend looked like a typical rich douchebag, all designer duds and gym bag, while his watch was worth more than all her possessions combined.
     
    “Marlon, is it?” She offered her fist to pretty much the only non-Wright guy who’d been nice to her last week. He ducked out of his speed ball routine and gave the bag an almighty whack. He bumped her fist with his glove. A flash of recognition seemed to make him gape, but he shook it off, as if he thought he must be seeing things. “Hey, I’m Rose,” she said.
     
    “Yeah, that Ross dude’s sister, right? What’s up with him?”
     
    “His friend offered him a job in Sacramento, so he put me in touch with Luca and Avery, said I’d be at home here.”
     
    “Surrounded by dudes that smack the snot out of each other all day? And you’re at home here?” He wiped his brow-sweat onto his glove. “My kinda woman. You should talk to my wife; she hates coming down here, even to pick my lazy ass up.”
     
    Rose laughed. “Girl just needs a clothes pin on her nose. But hey, speaking of being picked up, I’ve pretty much got your Reno trip finalized. Just a couple of things I need to go over with you. Before you leave, come over to the office and we’ll sort them out. Okay?”
     
    “’S all good. Luca decided who’s coming with us?”
     
    “Not yet. He’s still trying to reach Manny.”
     
    He bounced his nod from side to side. “Sure, Manny’s a’right, but I’d rather have Avery.”
     
    “Yeah, I would too. But we kinda need Avery here while Luca’s away. At least one Wright in the house.”
     
    “I can dig that. But there ain’t nobody gonna mess with us if Avery’s there. That dude’s like the Grim Reaper when he gets his game face on.”
     
    “Really?” She glanced over to where he was showing someone a takedown move on one of the mats. “He doesn’t seem so bad.”
     
    “You’ve only seen his nice side, his coach side. Wait till you get ringside for one of his fights, then you’ll see his Reaper side. Hey, not bad for some song lyrics…”
     
    “Okay, I’ll let you get back to your thing,” she said.
     
    “Later.”
     
    She continued her circuit of the gym, by which time Surf Dude and Douche Boy were ready and waiting. They headed her off ringside, and before they opened their mouths, she wanted to show them her Reaper side.
     
    “We haven’t met,” said Douche, a nickname she’d keep for him for as long as she worked at Wright Hook’s. “I’m Tony. This is Troy.”
     
    “Hey.” She shook both their hands. “I’m Rose. I just started here.”
     
    “Yeah, we know,” replied Douche. “You’re kind of hard to miss, if you don’t mind me saying.”
     
    Surf rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He can’t speak unless it starts with a pick-up line. Why do you think he gets his ass handed to him every time he steps in the ring? Because they all think he’s hitting on ’em.”
     
    Douche punched Surf on the arm. Surf belly-laughed. Rose remained unamused but smiled dutifully. “You boys been members here long?”
     
    “Well, my member’s long,” Douche replied with a wink, “but his won’t satisfy you.”
     
    Surf punched Douche on the arm. Douche belly-laughed. Rose remained unamused; this time she didn’t smile. Instead, she walked away. They weren’t just irritating, they were gross, nauseating. Well, one of them was.
     
    “Wait, wait. I was only kidding.” Douche stood in front of her, barring her way. “Not about my you-know-what, but I didn’t mean to be so coarse. It won’t happen again, I promise. Stay and talk to us for a bit?”
     
    “I’ve got work to do,” she replied.
     
    “Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you. Just do us one favor, then, before you go,” he pleaded, his palms pressed together in prayer. “Say we both asked you out on a date, which one would you choose?”
     
    Yup, his douchery was beyond cure. “Are those