Page 5 of Heart of a Fighter

But there’s no time to contemplate or explore the idea. Muffled sounds from the hallway suddenly become louder as the office door swings open. Startled, I yank my hand away from Granger’s shoulder too quickly.

My eyes dart to the doorway, and my heart sinks.

Zach fills the space, his eyes sharp and assessing. His fingers slowly form clenched fists as he works his jaw. His eyes darken, fierce and unyielding.

He suspects something.

My heart races and a mix of guilt and defiance swirls within me. What do I say to diffuse the situation before things go south?

“Thanks for the help, Lauren.” Granger takes the situation in stride with the nonchalance of an innocent bystander, slipping his shirt back on as he looks me in the eye. He rolls his shoulder for effect. “Feels better already.”

He brushes past Zach, neither man uttering a word but speaking volumes with their expressive silence–both hard and steely, refusing to give an inch.

Zach watches Granger leave, then turns his attention to me. “He’s got a reputation, Lauren. I know you can handle yourself, but be careful. It isn’t a good idea to treat him or anyone else here alone.” He makes his point by opening the door and dropping the doorstop. “It looks bad.”

I meet his gaze, feeling frustration and gratitude for his possessive nature, but I can’t let this go. He’s overstepping his bounds as my brother, interfering with my job.

“I’m a grown woman, Zach. And I’m a nurse doing my job. Patients have a right to privacy. If they ask for it, I won’t deny it to anyone who walks through that door.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I’m just looking out for you like you’ve always had my back.”

“The same way the team has had our family’s back.” I close the distance between us, never able to stay irritated with him for long. I place my hands on his broad shoulders, grateful he’s my big brother. “You trust Granger and your team every time your blades hit the ice. And you trust me, right?”

“Of course I do.” His brow furrows. “But you’re my sister. I don’t want you to get caught up in something that could hurt you–professionally or personally.”

“Thanks for looking out for me, but I can handle myself. Trust me.”

Despite my words and their reassuring delivery, the feelings Granger stirs within me complicate everything. I have choices to make, and they won’t be easy. But Mom’s cancer battle and the kids at the children’s hospital battling the disease have taught me a huge life lesson. Life is full of hurt and growing pains. When we fall, we get back up, dust ourselves off, and hope like hell we learned something from the fall.

***

Granger

The noise from the locker room echoes faintly in the background as I step into the locker room shower. The clamor of voices and rattling metal lockers are a distant annoyance. I reach for the faucet, turn it on and let the hot water cascade down in a steady stream. Steam rises, curling and swirling around me, creating a cocoon of heat.

I step under the water, feeling it pound against my shoulders and back, washing away the grime and sweat from practice. The sensation is almost therapeutic–each droplet a small massage that helps ease the tension knotted in my muscles. I close my eyes, letting the warmth envelop me, my thoughts slowly untangling in the steamy haze.

I plant my hands against the wall, leaning into the stream of water, allowing it to cascade over my head and down my back. The noise from the locker room fades further into the background, leaving me alone with the sound of water splattering against the tiles and the steady rhythm of my breathing.

I slick soap over my chest, recalling the shift in Lauren’s breathing the moment I slid my hand over hers. Heat spreads through me, soothing all of my pains except for the throbbing ache between my legs.

Despite the shower’s open stalls and the lack of barriers, the steam and solitude create the illusion of my own personal sanctuary. I allow my imagination to run free with thoughts of Lauren lying naked in my bed. I slide a soapy hand over my hardening shaft, drawing my balls up around the base. I take a deep breath, the steam filling my lungs and warming me from the inside out as I picture her shapely legs, wide hips, and round breasts bouncing as I plow into her creamy center.

I’d give anything to pin her arms to the wall and worship every fucking inch of her tight little body. I grip my cock harder, firming my grip as my soapy hand glides up and down my rigid length. The day's frustrations and the weight of expectations seem to dissolve in the wet heat as I imagine coming on her sweet lips, between her breasts, and buried deep in her tight pussy.

It takes mere seconds for the vision of her to send me over the edge. My legs shake, and I brace myself against the wall as I come hard, spewing into the water spray and letting go of the worries and doubts that gnaw at me.

As I lose myself to the buzz of my release and the comforting rhythm of the water, the faint sound of footsteps approaching pulls me back to reality. I groan, hoping whoever it is will take the hint and leave me alone, but I don’t have that kind of luck.

“Granger!” Coach's voice cuts through the steam, breaking my moment of solitude. “Your father wants to see you ASAP.”

I let out a low grumble, feeling the tension flood back into my shoulders. Of course, my father would need something immediately. I can never escape his shadow, not even in the shower.

“Got it, Coach,” I reply, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. I turn off the faucet, the water slowing to a drip as I step out of the shower. The cool air hits my skin, a stark reminder of the reality I can never entirely escape. I grab a towel and start to dry off, preparing to face whatever my father has in store for me this time.

I rap on the door and let myself into my father’s office. He sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, buried in financial reports.

“I hear you’ve recently been skipping out of practice.” He doesn’t bother with pleasantries before diving into why he summoned me to his office. “You’re not setting a good example for the team.”

---