Giving her body a once-over shake, she waved at Gwen again, a happy smile on her face, and rolled off to get back in the game. Admiring the will it took for her to get back in there, the crowd cheered, but none so loud as the wild dogs.
Gwen applauded, but again, Lock knew from her body language how stressed she was. And he didn’t blame her one bit.
CHAPTER 11
By the tenth time Blayne was flung at the crowd like a Frisbee, Gwen didn’t even cringe anymore. And Lock simply sat there, no longer jumping or snarling when Blayne came flying at them.
Yet what amazed Gwen was that no matter how many times Blayne got tossed around by that giant bitch, she not only got back to her feet seemingly undamaged, but she was always smiling. Gwen knew Blayne was tougher than most people gave her credit for, but even she had no idea how resilient her friend was. Like heavy-duty Tupperware, Blayne kept bouncing back.
“Kill her!” Jess screamed at Blayne, Gwen and Lock looking over at the cute wild dog with the unnatural bloodlust. “Wipe her from the face of the earth, Evie!”
“They’re pulling her out,” Phil announced and Gwen saw that it was true. Blayne was being benched, confirmed by the announcer. The crowd booed, but Gwen understood the decision. Although it might be entertaining for these people to watch Blayne Thorpe get tossed around by a blond missing link, it didn’t exactly advance the bout.
The last quarter went fast and hard, neither team willing to back off. But when the final whistle blew, the Furriers had beaten the Babes by a good twelve points.
“That was great!” Jess cheered. “I’m so coming back.”
Gwen smiled. Another derby convert. She knew the signs.
“We’re going out to see Blayne,” Jess told her. “You want to come with?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Gwen stretched, yawned, and that’s when it hit her—she was still on Lock MacRyrie’s lap! Had been for the entire bout, including halftime—and he hadn’t said a word about it. Sneaky Jersey bear!
“Why don’t I meet you guys there?” she suggested.
Nodding, Jess got up with her Pack following. They filed out and Gwen waited until they were gone. Then she scrambled off Lock’s lap, turned, and began slapping at him with her hands.
He held his arm up to block his face and laughed at her.
“What did I do?”
“You let me sit on your lap that whole time!”
“I was comfortable!” He caught hold of her arms and pulled her forward. “And so were you,” he taunted. At least it sounded like taunting.
“That’s not the point!”
“Besides, I figured you’d temporarily deemed me your feline throne.”
“Very funny.” She pulled her arms away. “I’m going to see Blayne.”
Frustrated and embarrassed and a tiny bit confused—because she really had been comfortable on his lap—Gwen marched up the stairs and out the door, Lock right behind her.
“This way,” he said, catching hold of her hand and leading her around a corner, through a small hallway and into a much larger one filled with girls on skates and their adoring fans.
The wild dogs were already hugging Blayne, but as soon as she saw Gwen, she pulled away and skated over.
“Gwenie! I’m so glad you’re here.”
Gwen hugged Blayne tight. “I am, too.”
When Blayne pulled back, Gwen couldn’t help but wince. “Blayne…your face.”
“It’ll heal,” she dismissed with a wave. She caught sight of Lock behind Gwen. “Hi, Lock!”
“Hi, Blayne. You were—”
“I know, I know,” she said before he could finish. “I need work. I know.”
“I didn’t say—”
“I was pathetic, hopeless! You don’t have to tell me.”
“But I wasn’t—”
“Just a mess! I know!”
Gwen patted Lock’s chest. “Let it go.”
As Blayne continued to rhapsodize on how bad she was, a group of Furriers came down the hallway, heading toward the locker rooms. They had a large group of fans and friends around them as they made their way, but that didn’t stop Gwen from coldly eyeing the one who kept going after Blayne.
And the female eyed Gwen right back as she rolled by, an annoying smirk on her face.
Deciding to let it go, for now, Gwen turned back to find Blayne still listing her flaws. She was about to tell her to stuff it already, when Gwen’s nose twitched and her desire to hiss nearly strangled her.
“You all right?” Lock asked.
Surprised he’d noticed since she hadn’t made a move, Gwen said, “Yeah. I’m fine…I’ll be back.” Then she calmly walked off down the hall.
Jess tugged on Lock’s arm, pulling him away from staring after Gwen, wondering what she was up to. “So…?”
Lock shrugged at Jess’s vague question. “So…what?”
“You, hanging out with Gwen.” She grinned and danced on her toes. “A good thing?”
“We ran in to each other before the bout. I just tagged along.”
“She sat on your lap for almost two hours, Lachlan MacRyrie of the Clan MacRyrie.” A name she insisted on calling him any time she saw him.
“I know what you’re thinking and forget it. I already asked her out, and she turned me down.”
“Are you that naive?”
“Possibly.”
“Lock, she’s a cat. She wouldn’t deign to sit on your lap for two whole hours if she wasn’t interested.”
“Don’t start, Jess.”
“I’m serious.” He knew she was and he didn’t want to discuss it, because he didn’t know what was going on between him and Gwen. He only knew that it was a fragile thing, easily destroyed. He didn’t want that to happen.
Deciding to torture his favorite little wild dog in the hope of distracting her from this topic, Lock gripped her nose between his thumb and forefinger.
She scowled. “Let me go.”
He didn’t.
“Now.”
Nope.
“Dammit!” Lock laughed as Jess tried to pull away from him, her hands slapping at his. When Jess got like this she always reminded him of a dog trying to wiggle out of her collar.
“Where did Gwen go?” Blayne asked, seemingly oblivious to the wild dog trying to fight him off.
“Down the hall—”
Lock’s body jerked, his fingers immediately releasing Jess as he heard the unmistakable roar-hiss of Gwen. Yet before he could move to find out what the hell was going on, she came slamming out of the locker room, her body wrapped around the behemoth derby girl who’d tortured Blayne. Pounding her fist into the female’s face, Gwen roared again, oblivious to the Furriers streaming from the locker room to help their teammate. Derby girls were notoriously protective of their own, and Lock quickly saw how bad this could get.
Even worse, D.F.A. wasn’t the type of female to quietly take a beating. She swung Gwen off her and slammed her into the opposite wall.
“Holy shit!” Jess burst out as Blayne charged past them, intent on getting to Gwen. She did, too, tackling the She-wolf and shoving her to the ground. The timidity Blayne showed on the track disappeared in an instant now that Gwen was involved.
Now D.F.A. had two Philly hybrids on her, both of them slamming their fists into her face, screaming profanities that Lock hadn’t heard since one of his teammates had been “accidentally” shot in the ass by his resentful girlfriend.
Lock moved forward but the Babes’ captain caught his arm, gold cat eyes watching Gwen and Blayne take on the vicious She-wolf. Based more on her size than her scent, Lock guessed she was a liger, a normally sweet-natured hybrid. He found it odd that she’d play on a derby team.
The Furriers jumped in to help their teammate, one of the wolves grabbing Blayne around the waist and throwing her off D.F.A. and at the rest of them.