Tough Girl
Bonita Van Gerve
Copyright © 2017 by Bonita Van Gerve.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Table Of Contents
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter seventeen
Chapter eighteen
Chapter nineteen
Chapter twenty
Chapter twenty-one
Chapter twenty-two
Chapter twenty-three
Chapter twenty-four
Chapter twenty-five
Chapter twenty-six
Chapter twenty-seven
Chapter twenty eight
Chapter twenty-nine
Chapter thirty
Chapter thirty-one
Chapter thirty-two
Chapter thirty-three
Epilogue
Chapter one
"Jeez, Amy. Would you hurry up? We’re not going to America's Next Top Model. Just put on some jeans," I hissed while walking up and down. I checked my watch for the tenth time and rolled my eyes. What in heaven's name made me decide to become friends with her? We’re so different from one another. While I just wear plain clothes, she pampers herself.
She came walking down the stairs in a skirt... a freakin’ skirt… her hair made neatly, make-up, and don’t forget the heels.
I just shook my head. "We are going to a stadium where the seats are going to be hard and cold—a stadium that smells like sweat—and you dress like that?" I pointed to her choice in clothing.
She huffed. "I’m not like you. I have to show some female power to make them look."
I snorted. "It’s a stadium where people bet on fighters, drink beer, and yell like lunatics at the fighters. They are not going to look at a girl trying to look like a model at a UFC match, seriously."
As always, she ignored me, grabbing her handbag, and walked out the door.
I followed her out, locking the door. We lived together. Both of us kind of sucked at love and men. Men couldn't handle me, easy as that. Amy, on the other hand, had men came and go—they didn't do relationships. Every time a man broke her heart she would sit with a bucket of ice-cream watching romance films and yelling at the men how stupid they were.
We finally arrived at the stadium after driving just over an hour. People were already streaming in to take their places. We could walk easily to our seats but Amy was cursing the whole way.
"I told you to wear flat shoes," I said smugly and she glared at me. I shrugged and sat down and she took her seat next to me.
"So when are you going to yell ‘Ryder Cane, marry me, you sexy beast’?" Amy asked, smiling.
I just ignored her and looked forwards. I mean, it‘s crazy for a small town girl like me to even dream of a chance with a famous person. There are girls out there, ten times prettier than I am, who he’d rather date than a big, loud-mouth girl like me. Why was I even thinking about it? Like every girl and boy out there who has their idol and wished to meet him; or better yet, date him or her.
But how many stories do you know of where something like that has happened? Maybe, like, one percent? But there are always divorces, or the fame goes to their head and they want more. But there are the few that stay the same and try to prove they belong.
My thoughts were interrupted by the commentator welcoming the fighters to the ring and the fans to the stadium.
"Here we go," I heard Amy mumble.
As I saw him walking through the crowd, my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. He looked even more handsome than the first time. He had a warm smile on his face as he waved at the fans as he walked into the cage. The stands went crazy as he lifted his arms in the air; I wasn't the only one crazy about this man.
"Hey, Ryder. I noticed a few girls going gaga," the commentator said and Ryder chuckled. I wish I could hear him laugh. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
I am not here for him, but the fight. I was only four years old when I started watching UFC and became a huge fan, not missing one match. My dad took me to some, when he got the chance. When I turned six, my dad took me to try out Kick Boxing. It was fun, but nothing like mixed martial arts. After two years doing kickboxing, and with all the medals I’d earned, I wanted to try out for MMA.
One day a few UFC champs visited the kickboxing class and gave us some moves and insight into MMA. I was curious and asked, “If you want to do MMA, where do you train?” Of course they laughed at me. I was only an eight-year-old. But, they gave me a contact number, and after I’d had a long chat with my dad, he agreed.
I got more bruises than a normal eight-year-old girl. It was ten times more training than kick boxing and the matches were intense. For children under twelve you only had three rounds, and those three rounds made you sweaty and exhausted. Your muscles cramped, you were thirsty, and your vision blurry, but when you came out of the cage—you were a winner.
My mother did not approve of her daughter being a fighter and coming home beaten up. People and teachers at school thought my parents were hitting me. My mother had to inform the school I competed in MMA. At the age of eighteen I retired as an MMA fighter. Everyone told me I could go further and bigger. But the nose jobs, bruises, and broken limbs started to get to me. In my last match I broke my ankle and decided I was done. My mother was relieved. My dad, on the other hand, was kind of disappointed. My dad had three other boys, but none of them had the same interest that we shared. I was very close to my dad, and still am.
With all the money I made with UFC I went to university and got an honors degree in patisserie. For four years I worked at the biggest hotels in the world, and five years later I had enough money and opened my own shop. It was a café, coffee shop, and bakery. People who had a sweet tooth could buy cream puffs, bagels, cupcakes, and cookies with coffee. For those who needed a cake for a special occasion, we baked those as well. I had everything in my life, except someone to hold at night.
"Come on, Ryder! Kick his ass!" I was standing on my seat with the roaring crowd around me. Ryder was fighting with his opponent; his shots were pure.
"Jeez, Alex, give the guy a break!" I laughed as Amy tried to cool me off.
Ryder got in a perfect punch and his opponent dropped. "Woohoo!" I jumped up and down on my seat.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I give you the winner Ry-der Cane!"
The crowd roared and fists pumped the air. We cheered, though there was part of the crowd which booed. Sore losers, I smirked and walked out with Amy.
"Now that was an awesome match, once again," I said to Amy.
She shook her head. "I don't get what is it with you, two men locked in a cage hitting the shit out of each other until one drops down unconscious…"
"It’s a guy thing.
"
"My god, Alex, you are not a guy."
I laughed. I think that’s the main reason why I don't have a husband.
After the game we grabbed something to eat and went to the club. We were having the time of our lives, though we knew we’d be complaining tomorrow about the headache. But everything was worth it. Like my mom always said, “live life to the fullest, no regrets!”
I groaned as I opened my eyes and shut them again, slowly rolling onto my back, cradling my head in my hands. Thank goodness I had aspirin in my nightstand. I rolled on my side, fumbled for two pills, and slowly stood up. I walked to my bathroom and downed the pills with some water. I looked at myself in the mirror and groaned. I looked terrible. I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes and took my shower.
After getting dressed I made my way over to Amy's room. I opened her door and she wasn’t in bed. I heard the shower running and opened the door, thinking it was just us in the house. But, my god, was I wrong. When I opened that door a man was standing in front of me... butt naked! You know that part in The Sweetest Thing where Cameron Diaz and Christina Applegate stumbled into a naked man, looking for the bathroom, and they were lying on the ground speechless? Yeah, well, that was how I was feeling—utterly speechless—and the guy just smiled at me.
"Oh, shit," I heard Amy curse and I turned around to find her standing with two cups of coffee in her hands. I just walked past her, already knowing I was as red as a tomato. I walked down the stairs and poured myself a strong cup of coffee, for my headache and my humiliation.
Amy came down stairs and looked at me with apologetic eyes.
"I am sorry." She was giggling.
"That was not funny. Damn, Amy, I can’t even remember what happened last night. You brought a man home?"
She beamed. "Yeah, I know, but I wasn't that drunk and we kind of connected."
I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling "You say that every time and in the end they all walk."
"I know, and this was only a one-night stand, but, come on, he is really cute."
I smiled and nodded. She burst out laughing.
"And you saw him naked?"
I groaned. The corners of her lips rose as she was walking backwards.
"Uh, don't bother me for… let's say"—she tapped her chin and then smiled—"the whole day." She wiggled her eyebrows before sprinting off to her room.
That was my cue to leave. I grabbed my keys and helmet as I darted out the front door. I walked up to my motorbike and slipped on my helmet and drove to the bridal shop. My sister was getting married, and I was one of her bridesmaids.
I dismounted from the bike and removed my helmet as I walked into the shop. The receptionist greeted me and pointed where I was to go. I was still running my hands through my hair when I noticed my sister in her wedding dress. She looked like a fairy ,tale. She was beautiful, and I thought Justin was going to be the luckiest guy ever.
My mom turned her head and smiled at me. “Ah, I see you are here and on time." I nodded but couldn't take my eyes off my sister. "Damn, you look gorgeous, Lee." My sister's name was Lee-Anne but I always called her Lee.
She gave me a joyful smile. "You really think so?"
I nodded and spoke up. "Justin won't keep his hands to himself; he is going to be the luckiest groom in the world." She blushed and I saw a tears building up in her eyes. "Please don't cry. Damn, I am such a stupid sister."
She shook her head and gave me a hug. "No, you are the best."
I smiled and hugged her back. "Okay, so where’s mine?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I’m not sure if you’re going to like it. Justin’s mom made it. So if you don't like it, nobody is going to be too mad." I chuckled as she whispered to me.
I took the dress and made my way to the dressing room. I stripped off my clothes and slipped on the dress. I looked in the mirror and winced. Dear lord, why in the world did she make this?
There was a huge bow at the back, and on the sleeves. It was pink, with lace around the middle, with fabric roses. I opened the curtain and my sister almost lost her balance. My mother's left eye was twitching. I waited patiently for their response.
"Okay, just let out already," I huffed. My sister burst out laughing and my mom giggled softly.
"That is one hideous dress. We will design one for you, from scratch." I nodded at my sister, smiling. I turned and shook my ass at them and they laughed together.
I walked back to the dressing room and tried unzipping the dress, but the damn bow was in the way. I untied the bow and then the curtain of the dressing room whipped open. I thought it was my mom.
"Thank goodness, I can't seem to unzip the dre—" I didn’t finish my sentence as someone placed their hand over my mouth.
My eyes widened as I squealed. I tried to pull his huge hand off my mouth but he didn't budge. I jabbed him with my elbow in his ribs, then kicked his knee. He let go of me. I didn't think twice before making a run for it, but I didn't even reach the exit of the dressing room as he grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the floor.
Oh, your defense skills suck, Alex!
"Please, I am not here to do anything. I just need to hide," he whispered into my ear.
I stiffened in his arms. "Then let go of me," I growled. I turned around once he had.
He was standing with his hands in surrender. "Sorry," he apologized.
I raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing in my dressing room?" I asked.
He let out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just trying to hide," he said and I raised an eyebrow.
"Well, buddy, if you can't take the pressure of getting married, I don't think it is for you," I said, pointing at him. He looked up at me but his face was covered with sunglasses and he was wearing a cap.
"I have to go," I said, eyeing my clothes on the floor.
"No, wait!" He grabbed me by the wrist.
I let out a growl and punched the guy in the face. Then I kicked him between the legs and straddled his waist. "Didn't your mother teach you to never grab a girl!" I yelled, throwing punches. The guy was dodging my every punch and it was starting to piss me off. He grabbed me by my wrists to stop me.
I managed to free my hands and slapped off his hat and sunglasses.
It was as if time stopped.
I was sure I was dreaming.
Please, dear God. Don't let this be a dream. I promise I’ll be nicer to my mother.
Chapter two
"Alex?" I heard my mother ask, her hand about to open the curtain.
I let out a yelp as I saw my position in the mirror. I was straddling him and my mother was about to find me in this position. I stood up, making sure she wasn't coming in. "I’m fine, Mom. Just caught some skin while unzipping my dress," I said breathlessly. My hands were still shaking and it felt as if my blood had dried up.
"I can help you," My mom said.
I shut my eyes and bit my lower lip. "I am fine, Mom. Got it out, just slipping on my pants." I hoped she would just leave.
"Okay. Are you sure?" She tried to open the curtain.
"No! I mean, yes, I am perfectly fine," I said, clearing my voice. I heard her sigh and then heard her footsteps fading away. "Thank God," I exhaled.
I slowly turned around, expecting him to not be there—but he was. I let out a yelp and covered my mouth and shut my eyes. "This has to be a joke or something," I mumbled into my hand. I blinked a few times.
Nope, he was still there.
I slowly removed my hand from my mouth. It was him. He raised an eyebrow.
God, he looks sexy doing that. I saw him rub his jaw and I felt the corners of my lips curve upward.
"Nice punch."
His deep velvet voice rang through my ears and sent so many shivers down my body I couldn't stand it. I slowly started to sit down, all the while looking at him.
"Sorry," I mumbled, picking up his sunglasses and hat. I handed them to him. He took
them slowly from me and slipped them on.
"Nice dress," he remarked. I looked down and let out a groan. The famous Ryder Cane, seeing me in a freakin’ ugly pink dress.
I took the fabric in my hands. "Well, my sister's mother-in-law doesn't like pretty bridesmaids," I joked. I heard him chuckle and it made my insides flip. Take a deep breath, Alex. And please do not jump him!
I looked at my watch and grimaced. "I would like to chat and hang out, but I have to get going or my mother will look for me again," I said. He nodded. I slowly stood up. He made this dressing room feel so small with his huge frame. Guys normally don't intimidate me, but I felt like a mouse beside him.
"Before you, uh… disappear, would you please unzip this stupid dress for me?" I asked, feeling my cheeks get warm.
"Turn around," he said and I did.
I held my breath as I heard him move closer. I peeked into the mirror and watched our reflection. I wanted to laugh at his face. He had a frown on his face as he tried to unzip the dress.
My body shivered as his fingertips touched with my skin.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
I’m not sorry at all. I held onto my dress, making sure it wasn't sliding off.
"Nice to meet you," he said before disappearing through the curtain. I let out a slow breath. Oh, my, god! I just met Ryder Cane. The fabulous Ryder Cane! I pinched my arm just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I slipped on my clothes and headed out.
"Finally," she breathed as she stood up. "If I die of hunger or thirst, it’s on you."
I just nodded.
***
"Earth to Alex?" My sister softly slapped me on the forehead and I jumped back to consciousness. Everyone's eyes were on me.
"Are you alright?" My mom asked, worried.
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
"Because you haven't even touched your food. Normally you can't wait to eat."
I looked down and on my plate was a cheeseburger and fries, untouched. "Oh." I looked up and everyone was still looking at me. “You guys are freaking me out right now."
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