Page 1 of Ashley & the A-Listers (Sweetverse)

1. WELCOME TO…

ASHLEY

Things will be a little different this week, Nic said.

A special guest is going to be using the gym, he said.

Make sure to be extra diligent with opening chores, he told her.

Well, Nic had not mentioned that the special guest would be the Cameron Thomas, AKA Axel Stevens–star of Heated, the biggest action movie franchise of the last few years. Hollywood’s newest darling “it boy.”

And here he is on the other side of my standing desk.

“H-hi,” she managed, starstruck as the omega—yes, an omega! An action star!—waited on the other side of the desk. “Welcome to All Jacked Up.”

That’s right, I’m a professional.

“Hey,” he said, smiling that red carpet smile. “I’m doing training sessions for the next few weeks with a trainer. Do I need a pass or anything to get in each day?”

Ashley nodded, snapped her mouth closed, and flushed. “Yes, let me get one assigned to you,” she said. Then she tried to remember how to do just that.

His five o’clock shadow was the perfect length, dusting his slim but square jaw. His hair was effortlessly messy, short around his temples and longer on the top, strands in every which direction.

He looked better in person than in the pictures they showed during those silly talk shows.

“And up next, is Hollywood’s new action star really as tall as he says? Stay tuned for?—”

Behind the cover of her monitor, Ashley grabbed the remote and switched O! News off the television to her left, shutting off one of those very talk shows.

Betrayed by my own gym.

“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish grin. “They’re automated.”

His breezy smile didn’t even falter as he shrugged it off. “No worries.”

If she could, she would’ve sighed aloud with relief.

And now that they mentioned it… he was about the same height as her, which made Cameron around five-ten, not the six-one she’d read online.

She tried very hard not to glance at him as she clicked around the screen, trying to think about anything other than Cameron fucking Thomas staring at her with big pretty hazel eyes, and a megawatt smile.

And Ashley was supposed to act like everything was normal?

Right. A pass. She could do that.

Ashley added him into the system by name only, because she was certain every other person manning the desk would know just who he was with a glimpse. First and last name, she imagined asking, and almost chuckled aloud before remembering there were indeed witnesses.

A witness.

She pulled free a plastic card and scanned it, pairing it with his profile before handing it to him.

As he accepted it, their fingers brushed, and his touch… lingered? Ashley’s hand trembled like she’d been shocked.

Actual sparks. Just like in the movies!

Ashley offered him a smile that she tried to shape as casual as possible.

His gaze dipped to her name tag. “Thanks, Ashley,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she returned. “Enjoy the… gym.”

He chuckled softly and then he was walking away and Ashley wanted to melt into the floor. Instead she leaned against the standing desk and tried to remember how to stand like a normal person, how to do her actual job.

Well, at least the gym looks nice.

Freshly cleaned rows of machines gleamed back at her, glinting in the early morning sun shining through the spotless wall of windows. Weights were stacked and racked neatly, the water stations were sanitized to all hell, and she had made sure the mats were spotless.

After the last gym had burned down and Nic had collected the insurance money, he’d used it to furnish a new one and begged her to stay on. Ashley had been a little lost in the few months it took to open the new one, so when she was needed again, she’d happily accepted the managerial role and, well, here she was.

It’s nice to have an alpha on the team who has their head on straight, Nic praised.

Ashley deleted a row of random keystrokes and tried to keep herself from staring across the room to the padded mats, where soft grunts and frustrated sighs carried across the silent gym. Cameron had arrived alone, which Ashley had thought weird for such a famous omega, but who was she to question him?

It was empty this morning except for their special guest, which made sense, since all the other trainers and clients were scheduled for the evening.

Ever since Stellan MacKey, an MMA Champion, had made this his home gym, All Jacked Up had become quite the high profile place for private sessions.

Which made it even more silly that Ashley had been such an idiot in front of the omega. He certainly wasn’t the first famous client they’d had.

Then again, not all their clients left behind a muted aroma of something so sweet. What even was that? Vanilla? Honey? Even with the chemical tinge of suppressants, it was no wonder the public was so feral for Cameron Thomas.

She stared at the computer screen as if it could take her back in time and let her redo the interaction.

Ashley’s phone buzzed in the desk drawer, and she eyed the empty gym guiltily before sliding it open.

Her big bad marshmallow of a boss’s name reflected back at her.

How’s it going? Nic asked.

Ashley snickered, his anxiety tangible through the text. She typed out a response and decided to answer the question he wasn’t asking. Put the poor beta out of his misery.

It’s quiet. He must be practicing choreo or something.

Is he good? Nic asked immediately.

It’s Cameron Thomas, of course he’s good. His footing could use a little adjusting, I’ll admit.

Been watching, have you?

That would be weird, Nic.

Didn’t answer my question, did it?

Another text came through before she could even answer.

Maybe you should offer him some pointers.

Ashley rolled her eyes. You know better.

Please. I’ve got my own omega. You, however…

Stop trying to play matchmaker. I think I’d be better off playing the lottery.

You never know if you don’t try…

Ashley turned, staring at the gym’s camera with an annoyed expression as if Nic were watching—he wasn’t—and fired off a final text about remaining professional, since she was representing the gym and all.

But her gaze trailed back across said gym as another sigh echoed around the tidy, empty space.

Nic had been trying to set Ashley up with friends, acquaintances, and even some of their clients, which was crossing a line she’d been very stern with him about.

His intentions were pure, but annoying.

Her dating pool was slimming with every year she pushed off finding a pack. As a single alpha reaching her thirties, ferality loomed with every recycled calendar, but Ashley wouldn’t worry. She had friends to keep her in check. It would work out.

Like the gym had, getting burnt down by Nic’s omega’s ex-pack, then being relocated and built better than ever.

Nic had even paid her for the months she’d missed, keeping a roof over her head in the meantime.

She’d had a lucky streak recently, and she just hoped it didn’t run out anytime soon.

If you’re so lucky, why don’t you try your hand with this omega?

The voice in her head sounded a lot like Nic’s.

Between machines, Ashley could just glimpse Cameron, and watched as he attempted a wobbly roundhouse kick.

Ashley arched a brow.

She could do a roundhouse kick.

Where was Cameron’s trainer? According to the notes Nic had left, it wasn’t one of their own; it was someone production probably hired.

They get to work with Cameron Thomas, and they’re late ?

Nic’s words bumbled around in her head, amping up her confidence.

Before she could chicken out, she stalked across the gym, the soles of her tennis shoes soft against the floor as she made her way over.

You’re an alpha. Act like it.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, announcing herself and leaning against a treadmill a few feet away. Her scent was a little more obvious, but she tried to rein it in, not wanting to overwhelm the omega.

Cameron spun, and?—

Ashley did not gasp, but it was a near thing.

Cameron was handsome on screen, but up close, he was downright delectable with a sheen of sweat. Lickable, some might say.

Biteable.

His cheeks were flushed from exertion, and in loose shorts and a tank, his muscled arms were on full display.

Did she have heart eyes thumping from her head?

Cameron’s expression slipped from frustration to… interest—was she imagining things?— as he lowered his arms and shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your roundhouse… is wobbly,” she hinted. “Don’t you use stunt doubles?”

“Are you telling me I suck?” he questioned.

Ashley winced, lips twitching at his bluntness, at the small smile on his lips.

“Maybe.”

“I wanted to challenge myself,” he said. “This is the first time I’m not using a stunt double.”

Hmm. Ashley had hoped for more from Axel Stevens, but she guessed that’s why Cameron was here. In her opinion, maybe they should’ve stopped after the first two, but the writers were still going, and fans were rabid for it.

“Admirable,” Ashley said, smiling softly.

Cameron tilted his head to the side. He stepped back and waved an arm at the mat, presenting it to her. “Do you want to show me how it’s done?”

The dare in his words was visceral, and the mat scrunched beneath her shoes as she took his place.

It was familiar territory, her territory, and confidence filled her as she placed her feet correctly, bringing her arms up for balance in a basic kickboxing stance.

Ashley followed through, planting her foot at the forty-five-degree angle, and pulled her right arm back for counterbalance as her tibia slammed into the punching dummy with a whack.

The silence lasted for a single beat.

“Well, you make it look easy,” Cameron drawled.

Ashley shrugged. “I don’t manage this place for nothing,” she said.

His gaze trailed over her, and she tried not to feel warm about it. “Fine. Want to show me a few pointers?” he asked.

Cameron’s scent was dim, even this close, but that hint of something sweet… vanilla, honey. It was something she wanted to sink into.

Or sink her teeth into.

“I can do that,” she found herself saying instead.

What? Oh no.

This had already gone too far. This was too much excitement for her. What she should do is turn right back around and stand behind the welcome desk, where she belonged. Working her little 9-to-5 and then going home to her empty house where she would have an uneventful dinner to close out an uneventful day.

This was the complete opposite of uneventful.

Talking to an actual movie star?

Swallowing, Ashley steeled herself beneath that glowing hazel gaze, and gestured toward the mat in front of the dummy. “Okay, show me your starting position,” she told him. “I’m Ashley, by the way.”

“I know,” he said, leaning close, tapping the metal name tag attached to her collar. Her cheeks flamed as he held out his hand. “I’m Cameron.”

“I know,” she echoed, taking his hand, but careful not to brush their wrists together. No scent marking the celebrity.

His lips twitched and Ashley was trying very hard not to be starstruck, but it wasn’t going very well.

“I was working from memory, in my defense,” he said as he stepped up and put his feet into the wrong position.

“You’ll get better,” she told him without thinking.

A single brow lifted at her and she smiled at him, contrite. “Sorry.”

He pursed his lips and she almost apologized again, but he stopped her, waving a hand. “It’s… actually kind of refreshing not being treated with kid gloves. Do your worst,” he said, holding his arms out.

“Show me your kick again,” she said.

He did, and she tsk ed, spying the issue. “Okay, so your first problem is you’re stepping across. It might feel natural that way, but you’re putting all your power in the wrong place. Step to the left corner with your left leg instead of the right,” she said, tapping the toe of her shoe into his left ankle to emphasize.

He followed her corrections without question, and when he kicked again, he grinned. “That already felt so much better,” he admitted.

That grin was a thousand watts and Ashley was blinded by it.

“You have all the basics. Just make sure to pivot, and open your hips. Hit with your tibia?—“

“Not your foot,” he finished.

“Yes, you got it,” she said.

His gaze was concentrated when he lifted his arms and found his stance. He sucked in a breath and then executed a perfect roundhouse kick.

Her lips curled in approval, and she clapped. “Perfect. See? Easy.”

“That felt great,” he said, and lifted his hand for a high five.

Ashley met him in the middle, their hands colliding with a slap that echoed around the empty gym.

“Glad I could help,” she said, and let her hand fall away. “Do it again.”

He seemed surprised by the challenge, but took his stance and completed another kick. Then another.

He was out of breath by the time he asked, “So do you accost all your new gym members, or did you get tired of watching me suffer?” he asked.

Ashley’s heart dropped before she caught the smirk on his face. He’s joking. “Just the ones I think need help,” she mused, matching his energy. “And it’s not my gym, I just work here.”

He huffed with his next attempt. “How many times am I going to do this?”

“Until you don’t have to think about it,” she told him, lightly touching his left shoulder, bringing it down to a more natural position. Their gazes locked for a split second before she cleared her throat. “Again.”

“When I heard Stellan MacKey trained here, I just knew I had to come see it for myself,” Cameron said, some of his words emphasized as he expelled a breath to kick.

“A fan?” Ashley asked, watching his form and eying the placement of his feet.

She wasn’t admiring him or checking him out. She was studying his movements, that’s all.

Sureeee.

“Very much so,” he answered, breathless, chest heaving beneath that tank top. Was it warm in here? “He kicked ass last season.”

“And he’ll kick ass this season, too,” Ashley told him. She knew, because she’d been witness to a few of his training sessions. He usually brought a pack member with him to train, and Ashley often found herself staring at them, admiring from afar how a pack dynamic like that worked.

Two omegas was a little wild. Ashley would be fucking honored if she could find one omega. Hell, she wouldn’t snub her nose at a beta. Another alpha, even!

Cameron dropped his foot back into a basic stance, glancing over at her for approval.

Her inner alpha preened at the thought, cheeks warm.

He eyed her for a moment, then cocked his head to the side. “Would you want to show me a few more things?”

She shouldn’t. She really, really— “Are there other moves you need help with?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” he muttered, so low she almost couldn’t hear it.

Oh. Wait, was he hitting on her? Did he mean?—

Her heart flipped over in her chest, playing dead, and she cleared her throat into her curled fist, hiding a smile and hoping her scent wasn’t giving her away.

“I’d be happy to,” she admitted. “Now switch legs.”

He looked disappointed, but switched his stance.

“Okay, this sucks already,” he said. “It doesn’t feel as balanced on this side.”

Ashley chuckled, pushing her thoughts away. “It will by the time I’m through with you,” she said.

His lips quirked at that and heat rushed to her cheeks. That sounded much more suggestive than she’d meant it to.

Cameron executed another kick, this one sloppier since he was using his non-dominant side, but he was a quick learner, applying the previous adjustments with only a nudge here or there. She gave him a nod of approval before he tried again, this time with a stronger frame and hitting harder than before.

The dummy squeaked in protest.

“Nice,” she told him. “Again.”

He kept smiling, and Ashley found it very distracting. His roundhouse kick was practically perfect by the time the door across the gym opened and closed with a beep of a card entry . The warm air from outside rushed in, bringing with it the scent of the city, the scent of… a familiar scent, actually. One she hadn’t smelled in years.

Ashley’s heart dropped as fresh-cut grass hit her, earthy and green, and she froze.

“There you are! Finally!” a deep voice called out, oblivious to Ashley’s entire world rocking. “We were supposed to come get your keycard together. You couldn’t wait up for me just a little— oh shit,” he said, steps coming to a stop several feet away, behind Ashley.

No way.

Ashley moved away from Cameron, putting distance between them. She tried not to note how he looked a smidge disappointed as she half turned so she could meet the gaze of the newcomer.

“Oh shit,” she echoed, softer, as she recognized the man.

The alpha.

One she knew very well.

Or at least, had known, once before. A very long time ago.

“That’ll be my bodyguard,” Cameron groaned, reminding her where she was, who she was. Her hindbrain was getting away from her, approaching Cameron like this.

“What are you—” the alpha began, but Ashley turned her attention back to Cameron.

“Your roundhouse is pretty much perfect. I think you can take it from here,” she told the omega. “I’ll be around if you need anything else. Happy training,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

The fuck are you doing here? she wanted to ask. Instead, without even offering the bodyguard a second glance, she walked around him, giving him the wide berth the asshole deserved, and made her way back to her desk.

She felt their gazes on her and focused on remembering how to walk. Her ass had to look fantastic in her leggings and she hoped that fucker recognized it.

She bypassed her desk and went right into the back room behind it, blowing out a breath as the door shut softly behind her.

Her cheeks reddened with fury, temperature rising as half-buried memories crawled from the grave to haunt her.

Leaning against it, she let her head thump against the door and slammed her eyes shut.

Of all the gyms, of all the people, of all the actors.

And this one had to hire a bodyguard who happened to be that alpha.

Dylan.

Her best friend. Her go-to. Her confidant.

Until he’d fallen off the face of the earth, never speaking to her again.

Well, two could play at that game.

And Ashley was competitive.