Anchored To Love

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by S. M. Stryker




  Anchored to Love

  S.M. Stryker

  Seattle, WA 2015

  COPYRIGHT 2015 S.M. STRYKER

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: [email protected]

  Cover Design by Laura Hidalgo

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN 978-1-5137-0220-9

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0262-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911645

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Epilogue

  Zain

  Thank You

  Author’s Note

  Character Descriptions

  About The Author

  Links

  More from S.M. Stryker & Entice

  Chapter One

  Charlie

  ALL MY LIFE, all I have ever wanted was to be an athlete, and I am good at it. Not to say I’m not good in school, I am, I was always on Honor Roll in high school. I didn’t have to try too hard, but I love sports and I want to play in college.

  “I can’t believe we’re going to Tennessee.” I look at my mom. She looks so proud; after all, that’s what I’ve worked so hard for since I was ten.

  Growing up, my parents didn’t have a lot of money, but they saved and penny-pinched to keep me in sports. My favorites were softball and volleyball. As I got older, I barely had any free time, playing volleyball in the spring and fall, followed by basketball in the winter, and softball in the spring and summer.

  Dad and Mom were always there for me. Dad, many times, would umpire when I was on a recreation league and the ump didn’t show. He hated it though—hell, it was just a rec league, and it’s not as if it was a competitive club team. The parents were so intense, yelling about what they thought were bad calls. My dad would holler back, “If you don’t like the job I’m doing, then maybe you can get behind the plate and do it yourself.” That would usually quiet them down. After a while, he just refused; it wasn’t worth the stress.

  My mom believes in being at all my events to support me, I think because Grandma and Grandpa never supported her in her sports. She was always on her own. She never had anyone in the stands cheering her on. She said that she would always be there unless it couldn’t be helped. She even showed up at a volleyball game after having surgery that morning. She looked like shit, and Dad was pissed she wouldn’t stay home, but that’s the way she is. She puts all of her wants and needs aside for me, and what she thinks I want or need. I want to be a mom like her someday, to give unconditionally for my child.

  So it made sense that, three months ago, she accompanied me to the university that wanted me to work out with the team for a couple days. My batting coach, Coach Nic, says that the cream always rises to the top. I think it’s a funny saying, but he is old-fashioned and he believes in me. He scouted for colleges for me as much as I did. The college that asked me to visit did it sight unseen. The video I sent them didn’t work on their computer, but believing in Coach Nic, they called me up and here we are.

  It’s funny, when I started high school, I was in a Goth phase in my life. I never did the white make-up, but I did do the black hair, black eyeliner, and black clothes. Keep in mind I had been playing competitive volleyball and softball for several years, traveling with my teams all over the western states. When the varsity volleyball coach first saw me, she made a snap judgment: she stereotyped me, on my appearance, stating that “no one that looked and dressed like me could ever be good at sports.” Little did she know I would not only make First Team All-State all four years in volleyball and softball, but also letter in a total of twelve sports. Tell me I can’t do something and I will show you I can and will do it better than anyone else.

  Cleveland, Tennessee is beautiful, from their big magnolia trees to the old Victorian homes with all the intricate gingerbread trim, I fell in love with it during that visit, and I love the school. The coach made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and I signed my Letter of Intent. Three months later, and now I’ll be living there, living my dream, my scholarships are paying me to go to school and play softball.

  The summer went by fast, and before I knew it, I was packing my things to start my new adventure as a college student and athlete. I never thought it would be this hard to leave my mom and dad, but I put on a brave face, wiped my tears away, and took a jet by myself for the first time. I am on my own now, responsible for myself, no parents to tell me when I need to go to bed or clean up my room. It is a crash course in reality. My mother arranged with Coach Johnson to pick me up at the airport, but that’s where all the care ended.

  The coach actually doesn’t pick me up; it is a couple of my teammates, and instead of dropping me off at the dorms, they are on the way to a party. I’m not a party prude, but fuck, I just got off a jet from flying across the country. Not more than three months ago, I signed a contract with Coach Johnson and the university that stipulates no drinking or drugs of any type. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize my scholarship. I don’t know these girls from Adam; for all I know they’re setting me up. Instead of making waves, I decide I’ll hang with them. I don’t want to come off as a bitch or a snob, I just value my opportunities more than a few hours of partying.

  I wander through the house; it’s a split-level home with a deck off the front of the house and one off the side that leads down to a big in-ground pool. There are lounge chairs all around the pool and water toys floating on the surface. The back yard is huge, but the only vegetation is brown grass. Girls in barely-there bikinis hang off the big beefy guys, and I wonder whose house this is. Is it an athletic house? I know they don’t have sororities or fraternities here, so it can’t be that. Or is it some rich kid’s house and Mommy and Daddy are away for the weekend?

  I walk out on the si
de deck that leads to the pool, just looking around. It’s wall-to-wall people. I start to saunter back into the house, when there is a commotion at the pool, girls shrilling and guys laughing. It catches my attention, but I continue to walk, and I slam straight into a wall. At least I thought it was, until the wall’s arms encircle me to keep me from falling on my ass.

  Chapter Two

  Zain

  WELL, HERE I AM again; another day, another party. Welcome to another school year. No one parties better than the jocks. It’s funny how they’re the major partiers, maybe because the school never remembers this house—the Rugby house—and the rugby players love to have fun. It’s a house a couple of blocks from the campus that houses everything rugby. Out of sight, out of mind, the best parties are always here, because no one ever checks on them.

  You would think, with the amount of time I spend here, that I actually go to this school. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have been on my own most of my life; I come and go as I please. I’ve been traveling the United States for a couple years now. You see, my parents think I’ve been in school, when in all reality, I graduated a couple years ago. I figured if they can’t be bothered with the life of their son, then I could do what I want to do, when I want to do it.

  While I was in school, I found that I had a knack for computers. I started writing applications and selling them. From there I could do almost anything. I didn’t have to sit in an office all day, I could write anywhere—well, anywhere I had my computer. I wanted to experience the world, see what it had to offer me. I really don’t know what brought me to Tennessee, maybe the music, but I’m not into the hard-core music area of Tennessee. But I do like this area.

  I’ve been here for about six months; I think it’s about time to move on soon. I mean, I can only handle so much partying.

  When I arrive at the house, the party is in full swing. I stroll around looking to see if there are any new faces, but since school hasn’t officially started, most of them are the same as last spring. I walk into the kitchen where the keg is sitting in a bucket of ice, grab a red solo, and fill it up as I start to cruise the house again. Everywhere I look, I see girls I have either hooked up with or who want to hook with me, but it’s getting old, to easy, they are too easy. Can we say door knob. It’s definitely time to move on.

  I decide to go outside. It’s a hot day, and a swim sounds good. The smell of the giant magnolias infuse the air. Never in my life have I seen so many magnolia trees and the flowers are the size of dinner plates. I step onto the deck, when I’m rammed into. I didn’t even see it coming, see her coming. My first instinct is to throw my arms around her, so she doesn’t fall backward. Shit! Then her scent hits me, almost as hard as she did running into me. She smells like the lemon trees that were in bloom when I was in California, with a hint of vanilla. I inhale another deep breath before looking down at her. She looks up at me, a shocked look on her face. “I’m so sorry!” she says as she looks up at me embarrassed. “I … there was …”

  Chapter Three

  Zain

  “IT’S OKAY, I wasn’t looking where I was going either. Are you okay? I’m not wet which means you don’t have a drink. Can I get you one?” I ask as I look into her stunning blue-green eyes. I can’t stop looking at her; she has dark lashes that look as if she has eyeliner on, but on further inspection, I don’t think she has any makeup on. I step onto the deck and realize she’s tall, maybe five feet nine inches. Long brown hair with bangs that sweep off the side of her face. She’s in a cream-colored cropped T-shirt that hugs her body and curves seamlessly over her luscious tits that look perfect. It stopped above her belly button, which has a simple bar with a dragonfly dangling from it. And a pair of shorts, short shorts. Her legs are so long they could wrap around me twice, and to top it off, she is wearing cowboy boots. That brings a big smile to my face. Shit, what am I thinking? I just met her, my dick thinks it’s time to come out and play. I’m going to walk through this house with the biggest boner ever. Not that that has ever stopped me before, but she seems different, almost innocent.

  “No thank you, I don’t drink,” she says as she looks shyly up at me through her lashes.

  What part of that doesn’t make sense? “You come to the Rugby house, the biggest party house around, and you don’t drink?”

  She shakes her head. “I just flew in today. I’m on the softball team, and the coach was supposed to pick me up. Instead, a couple of the players picked me up and brought me here. I really didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

  “Where are they now? Did they even introduce you around? Do you even know who they are?”

  “Ericka and Brandy, and no they didn’t and no I don’t know where they are.”

  “How about we get out of here and I’ll take you to your dorm.” She looks at me suspiciously. “I’m not a serial killer.” I chuckle and then for the first time I see her smile—beautiful white teeth, full pouty lips—and her whole face lights up.

  “Okay, I am really tired and would like to get to my dorm room and get it set up. I’m Charlize, my friends call me Charlie.” She sticks her hand out to me.

  “I’m Zain.” I take her hand in mine, and a jolt runs through me, from my fingers to my toes. Her eyes flash to mine and I know she feels it too.

  I drop my solo into the garbage can at the door and move out of the way of the door so she can enter the house. “Do you know what car you came in?”

  I take her through the house and as I do, I look around and see it, every fucking guy turns, eyeing her up and down and following her with their eyes. As we are heading out the door, Dylan steps in front of us.

  “Zain, dude, who’s your little friend? Aren’t you going to introduce me? The night’s young, why are you leaving so soon? You know you can use one of the rooms downstairs, you know which one.” He looks Charlie up and down, licks his bottom lip, and gives me the eyebrow head nod for “we need to share this one.“ Asshole. If he thinks I’m letting him anywhere near Charlie, he has another thing coming.

  “Dylan, this is Charlie. She just flew in today, and she’s on the softball team. She’s tired and I was going to take her to her dorm.”

  “Uh huh, okay, dude, go ahead and take her to her ah … dorm.” He gets a big smile on his face and winks at me. Asshole. “I’ll talk to you later. Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

  “Nice to meet you to, Dylan.”

  We walk out the front door and another carload of kids are walking down the driveway.

  “Do you remember where they parked?”

  “Yes, it’s that one just across the street.”

  “Let’s go see if they locked it.”

  We walk to a little Honda Civic. I check the doors and they’re unlocked. “No one locks cars around here.” I say as I look up at her. After opening the door, I pull the trunk lever. “Let me get my truck, I’m just down the street. I’ll be right back. Do you have a key to your dorm room?”

  “Yes, they gave it to me when they picked me up. Coach Johnson had all my information in an envelope that they gave me.”

  “Good, that’ll make things a lot easier. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  I return and put her suitcases in the back of my truck. She has written a note and put it on the car seat letting her teammates know she has left. “Have you eaten anything?”

  “No, not since I left this morning. They just had almonds on the flight.”

  “Then how about we get you to your dorm get you unpacked and we go out and feed you.”

  “I really don’t have the extra money to spend on eating out. I shipped some things here, but I don’t know if they’re in my room or if Coach still has them.”

  “Charlie, as an athlete, you know you have to eat. This is my treat, a welcome to Tennessee, so to speak.”

  “I don’t know, that’s really nice, but I can’t let you do that.”

  “Yes you can and you will. You don’t have a choice,” I say. “Yo
ur coach should have been here for you to make sure you got into your dorm okay, and that you at least had a good meal after your trip. I bet you even have practice tomorrow too, right?”

  “Well, we have a team meeting.”

  “See, she should be watching out for her new players.” I take her to her dorm and unpack her luggage, make her bed, and get her set for the morning. “Let’s get you fed.” I place my hand on the small of her back to lead her out the door.

  “Are you from around here?” I ask.

  “No, Oregon.”

  “Serious?” She looks at me and shakes her head yes. “That’s where I grew up.”

  “Really, where?” she asks.

  “Hillsboro.”

  “How funny, my mom is from there. She used to take me to the farmers market and sell there.”

  “How long ago?” I ask.

  “Geez, ten years ago; we were still living in Aloha. On Saturdays she would go there. She had a little black and white TV so I would be able to watch cartoons. I have the best memories of doing that. Then I would go and buy different fruits and vegetables to eat. Wow, I haven’t thought of that in a long time.”

  “You have the best smile.”

  She looks at me and her smile turns shy. “Thank you.”

  “Did your parents have a farm?”

  “No, she made floral arrangements and dolls and stuff. She did that to make some extra money. That’s when I started to play softball and I was good at it and loved to play. Did you live close to downtown?”

  “No, we lived out in the country; my family has a lot of land out there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Have you ever eaten at Cracker Barrel?”

  “No, I’ve heard of them, but I haven’t eaten there before.”

  “Well, tonight will be your first introduction to the South.” On the drive to the restaurant, we talk about Oregon and the difference between the weather in Tennessee.

 

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