Wrestling Harmony (The Kingsley Series)

by Brandi Kennedy

  By the time she got out of the shower, Harmony had talked herself into being excited about Whitney’s surprise – whatever it was. She’d had a little help of course, in the form of Whitney’s constant teasing from another shower stall across the narrow aisle.

  “I cannot wait to see you in what I bought,” Whitney teased, laughing as she turned the water off.

  “You’re making me nervous,” Harmony laughed back. “I’m trying to stay positive over here.”

  “I can’t help it, and I’m ‘positive’ that you are going to look awesome!”

  Shaking her head, Harmony twisted the knobs to turn off the shower. Wrapping one towel around her hair, she wrapped another around her body, lifting the black plastic bag from the hook beside the shower curtain. “Uh, Whitney?” she called, peering at the blue and white fabric in the bag. “What the heck is this? Do I have to really wear this?”

  “It’s not that bad, so hush and put it on! I shopped long and hard for that!” Whitney called back. The sound of a hair dryer blared around her, causing her voice to sound robotic and slightly disjointed. “And no bra, Harm; the top has a built-in.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Harmony muttered nervously, lowering herself to the wet bench of the shower stall. “No bra? I mean, my boobs aren’t huge, but … no bra?” Lifting the top from the bag, Harmony held it up to inspect. Jagged cerulean blue and white stripes wrapped like barbs around the entire thing, set at an asymmetrical angle, and the left side of the top boasted a double spaghetti strap knotted in various places, while the other side of the top was strapless.

  It was a beautiful top, but nothing even close to Harmony’s usual casual style. It was something more sufficient for nightclub wear, sassy and sexy with its asymmetrical lines and one-shoulder look. “At least the shelf bra will work,” Harmony mumbled, forcing herself to set aside the simple green cotton underwire bra she’d brought with her.

  Once she was dry, Harmony slipped into her simple green panties, nervously pulling the striped top over her head. Adjusting the straps over her shoulder, she ran her fingertip along the bust-line of the top, spreading the fabric and making sure the tag was still tucked into the back. The hemline fell asymmetrically too, she noticed, falling just above her hip on the left side and well below her hip on the right side.

  “Hmm. I can only imagine the bottoms,” she whispered, turning back to the bag Whitney had given her. With a sigh of relief, she pulled out what appeared to be basic, bootleg styled slacks in black. Holding them up to her hips, Harmony noticed the decorative embroidery and gems that trailed down the outer edges of the lower legs. Sparkling blue and white gems were sprinkled around the hems of the pants. “Good grief, all this?”

  Stepping out of the shower stall, she quickly pulled the pants on, noticing how fitted they were to her narrow hips and slender thighs. Stalking into the main area of the locker room, Harmony stuffed her towel and sweaty work clothes back into her locker, spinning around as Whitney whistled from behind her.

  “Day-um, girl! I did so good!” Whitney boasted, walking around Harmony, running her fingertips over the knotted spaghetti straps on her shoulder. “You look awesome, Harmony.”

  “Uh, thanks. Are we going to a drag show?” Harmony asked sarcastically. “Because I am not feeling like me right now.”

  Rolling her eyes, Whitney shook her head. “That’s just because you didn’t plan to wear that,” she teased. “And you know you feel gorgeous. One day when you’re rich and famous from doing whatever you end up doing, you will totally have to hire me as your personal shopper.”

  Harmony sighed, grinning. “Well, I’ll admit I feel sexier than usual, but really. Where are we going that requires me to dress like this?”

  “Can’t tell,” Whitney laughed. “But if you really hate it, I’ll wait while you change. But you still have to come out with me, because I already got the tickets.”

  Admitting defeat, Harmony lowered herself onto the bench in front of her locker. “I’ll wear it. It’s really not that bad,” she said. “It’s just not the kind of thing that I’m used to. But it’s comfortable, so it’s okay. I need shoes though, I can’t wear my sneakers with this.”

  “Covered,” Whitney giggled, turning from her locker with a pair of black boots in one hand and a pair of simple white socks in the other. “And if it helps to make the side of you that likes to plan everything feel any better, let me tell you that I picked this stuff up a couple of days ago. While I was planning this. See, I plan stuff, too,” she laughed, pushing the boots into Harmony’s hand.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Harmony muttered, bending to slip the socks and boots onto her feet.

  Thirty minutes later, the girls were ready to go, with make-up perfectly applied and hair simply styled.

  “Come on, Harm, we can’t be late,” Whitney laughed, tugging Harmony through the gym and toward her car.

  “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

  Chapter Ten

  “The arena? What are we doing here?” Harmony asked, looking through the window curiously as Whitney turned into the parking garage.

  “Because this is where the show is,” Whitney said dryly. “I got us tickets to tonight’s AWG event.”

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t believe you bought us tickets to an AWG show!” Harmony laughed. “I’ve never known you to be into wrestling before, Whitney.”

  “I’m not, but with Xander around all the time, I got curious. You know, I never really thought of it as a real sport before, but he’s pretty beefy.”

  “A real sport?” Harmony asked.

  “Yeah, he says it is. He was actually in the gym the other day when I was working out, and we ended up talking in the parking lot. And he says even though the outcomes are all scripted, the moves are real. It takes a lot of strength and athleticism to be able pull it all off without killing each other.”

  “Well, maybe you should date him, then, and let up on me,” Harmony said darkly. She couldn’t put her finger on why, but the idea of Xander chatting with flirty Whitney was rubbing her all wrong.

  Snorting to hold back a laugh, Whitney shook her head. “Mmhmm, I thought so,” she said. “You like him a little.”

  “I don’t. He’s cocky and arrogant, and he jumps to conclusions about people, and –“

  “Right, and all this animosity from the girl who doesn’t know him but has jumped to conclusions about him?” Whitney teased. “I can tell he’s under your skin.”

  Crossing her arms, Harmony fought to control a sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah. He just hangs around a lot, staying after Laney’s classes and stuff. It’s weird.”

  “Harmony, you are so blind. He likes you too,” Whitney said quietly, steering the car slowly into a parking spot.

  “He does not!”

  “Does too. He says you’re ‘fiery’.”

  “He does not like me,” Harmony argued, laughing as Whitney turned the car off.

  Pulling the visor down, Whitney checked her makeup in the lighted mirror. “He does, he just can’t approach girls,” she said.

  “You’ve got to be joking.” Harmony loosened her seat belt, pressing the button that clicked the belt free. Adjusting her top as she moved the belt aside, she turned to look at Whitney in disbelief. “He’s hot and he’s famous, and he’s telling you he can’t approach girls? Despite whatever pity story he’s sold you, Whit, I’m sure Xander Harrison is not suffering a shortage of feminine attention. I won’t deny he’s that he’s completely gorgeous, but that also means I can’t deny his appeal to women, attitude or no attitude. Which means he can’t possibly have that much trouble with women.”

  “Yeah, but I imagine fame comes with a price, Harmony,” Whitney answered, tucking her cell phone and car keys into a small purse. She slipped the strap of the bag over her head, arranging it over her chest so that the tiny bag settled near her hip. “He probably never knows if people really like him or not anymore. But he really does like you; he says his favorite thing about you so far is th
e way you can’t seem to stand being around him.”

  “What a moron,” Harmony scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He can have any girl on the planet and he wants one that doesn’t like him?” Stepping out of the car, she slammed the door and waited for her friend to step out, her hands on her slender hips.

  “No, he just wants one that doesn’t want his money,” Whitney answered. Watching Harmony roll her eyes and flick her hair impatiently over her shoulder, she smiled. “But we’re not here for a Xander-fest, we are here for spontaneity!” Slipping the event tickets from her pocket, she tapped Harmony’s nose with them and grinned mischievously. “You won’t believe the seats I got. Come on.”

  Walking into the arena half an hour later, Harmony was shocked at the size and frenzy of the crowd. “This is insane!”

  “What?” Whitney shouted, leaning closer.

  “I said, ‘This is insane!’” Harmony repeated, laughing.

  “Come on, we’re this way – and they’re starting soon!” Whitney laughed back, tugging Harmony’s hand as they moved down the arena stairs. And kept moving down. And kept moving down some more.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Harmony asked, digging in her heels and shouting to be sure that Whitney would hear her over the rush of the crowd.

  “Ringside,” Whitney said, guilt and excitement warring in her eyes. “I got the tickets from someone who, uh, works here … come on, we’re almost there.”

  “Ringside? Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. Come on!”

  “Ringside,” Harmony mumbled grouchily, following along. “Well, she seems to be getting along with that oaf just fine.” The girls reached their seats just in time for the show to start, and after that, Harmony was too amazed to grumble very much at all.

  Climbing a short set of metal stairs, a tall woman in a sparkling sapphire mini-dress bent carefully and lowered herself between the ropes surrounding the ring. The dress was made of exquisite lace, with an asymmetrical hemline that barely covered the woman’s assets, riding high on one hip and leaving her long legs only shadowed by floor-length fringe.

  When she stood to face the audience, the deep halter of her dress sparkled in the lights, drawing attention to a thick row of shimmering gems that lined a high waist, emphasizing her elegantly slender silhouette. Nude-colored heels dressed her feet, and shining hair the color of fresh, hot mocha spilled over her shoulders. Her skin gleamed in the light – the smooth, rich color of caramel – and her chocolate eyes swept the audience before she spoke. As the noise began to die down, she slowly brought a microphone to her glossy lips.

  “Hello everybody, and welcome to the AWG!” she said, the smooth texture of her voice rumbling through the arena. Harmony’s chest vibrated with the volume as she watched the elegant woman shimmer and sparkle in the ring. She looked around at the audience, smiling beautifully, and had just opened her mouth to speak again when the sound of heavy metal music broke through the roar of the crowd.

  “Oh, look,” Whitney said, nudging Harmony and pointing toward the ramp that rose from the mat beside the ring, stopping at a stage off to the girls’ far right. On the stage, a muscular woman appeared, dressed completely in black leather, with deep red hair that fell down her back. Her biceps were wrapped in leather ties, her black leather top was covered in fringe that moved with her body, and the same fringe trailed down the outer seams of her leather leggings. She raised her hands into the air as a cameraman approached her, showing off the wide belt she carried. It shone in the stage lights, sparking blue and purple as she moved.

  Lowering the belt, she fastened it around her waist, looking out under thick eyelashes to meet the eye of the camera, her hands still poised to show off the championship belt. “Number one,” she said, her eyes cold, her voice hard and angry as it poured through the sound system. “Because this bitch is always on top.” Turning toward the ring, she moved down the ramp her legs churning as she ran. At the bottom of the ramp, she leaped, sliding smoothly beneath the ropes before rolling and climbing immediately to her feet.

  Whitney gasped. “God, just look at her. I bet she loves this!”

  “She makes it look simple,” Harmony answered.

  “I know. Man, I would totally get in there and kick some butt!”

  Harmony laughed, dragging her eyes away from the woman posturing in the ring and glancing over at her friend. Whitney’s eyes were wide with excitement, and as Harmony turned back to watch the action, she couldn’t deny her own excitement. The noise of the crowd pounded through the stadium, the thrill of the people so thick and heavy that it could be felt tangibly in the rising heat of the atmosphere. Harmony hadn’t felt so alive since the last time she’d been in competition, working her body to its limits for the pleasure of an audience such as this.

  Snatching a microphone that had been left in the middle of the ring, the vicious-looking redhead stared arrogantly into the audience. “Don’t you all just love J.J.?” she asked, waving her hand toward the female announcer who had initially been in the ring. “Isn’t she fabulous?” the leather-clad champion shouted.

  The crowd roared as the camera focused on J.J., her face flushed with embarrassment. She lowered her dark eyes, the straight, shining length of her hair slipping over one shoulder to hide her face. Tucking it behind one ear, she smiled, waving the cameraman away.

  “Too bad you’re stuck with me, right? The Vicious Vixen?” Turning back to look down on the woman below, she smiled coldly, continuing, “But you are stuck with me. Sorry, J.J., I know they love you, but this is my show and I’ll be playing ring announcer tonight. Because this bitch,” she finished, one arm held high as she turned to address the audience, “Is always on –“

  Fury flickered over the Vixen’s face as a pop tune blared suddenly through the speaker system, drowning the arena in the vibration. Harmony looked toward the stage, where a slender young woman in a skimpy pink jumpsuit had just appeared below the big screen. She stopped for only a second, steeling herself before she barreled down the ramp, leaping into the ring with an energy that had the crowd rising to their feet.

  “I can’t believe this place,” Whitney shouted, leaning closer to Harmony as she spoke. “Oh, look, that chick in the pink is kicking the Vixen all over the place!”

  Laughing, Harmony nudged her friend in the side. “You should be up there, you’re a natural at all that sassy stuff.”

  “Maybe so,” Whitney said, flinching back as The Vixen launched herself across the ring, her shoulder meeting the stomach of her opponent with enough force to bend her in half. “But I’m not an athlete. You could totally do this, though, you’re pretty tough – oh, look at that!” she shouted, watching as the woman in pink leapt from the mat, stalking The Vixen as she practiced a celebratory cartwheel.

  “Maybe. I don’t know, though,” Harmony said, leaning forward to watch more closely as the two women grappled in the ring. “I bet it’s hard to get a job doing that though, huh?”

  Whitney threw her arm around Harmony’s shoulders, pulling her close in order to be heard. “It usually is, and there’s a long process. This is the big show that travels all over the country, but they have a small local show, too, because they train their new talents here in town.

  “I bet it takes forever to get to that point then,” Harmony answered, raising her voice over the crowd as she indicated the grapping women in the center of the ring.

  “I don’t know,” Whitney said with a sassy wink. “I think it depends on if you know someone who can help. Ooh, Vixen’s got her! She’s gonna win! Look!”

  Laughing, Harmony slipped her arm around Whitney’s narrow waist. “I’m looking, I’m looking,” she said.

  Later, as they left the show and worked their way through the crowds, shouldering through to get back to the car, Harmony was glad Whitney had thought of coming to the show. She’d been working at the gym, going through the motions of her life, but she wasn’t thrilled with how things were going. What she was doing didn’t have the
star quality that she wanted in her life. She wanted people to know her name, to know her face. She wanted to be a success, to be a star.

  She wanted to be more than just the fourth kid in a big family, more than just a girl living an everyday existence.

  “Hey, you okay?” Whitney asked, stopping to dig her car keys out of her tiny purse.

  “Yeah,” Harmony answered, still turning the glimmer of idea over in her mind. “I think so.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have fun, did you? I’m sorry, Harm, I wanted us to have fun.” Pulling her keys from her purse, Whitney pressed a button, causing the lights on her car to flicker.

  “I did have fun,” Harmony told her, once they’d settled into the car. “It just made me think. I’ve been so caught up all this time in the gymnastics thing, and not making the Olympics … I guess I sort of forgot that there are other things I can do with the athletic skills that I have. I mean, maybe it wasn’t really about the gymnastics – maybe what I really needed was the accomplishment.”