Ultimate YA Sports Romance Bundle

LOVE IS A TRIATHLON series
SWIMMING UPSTREAM
Ash is focused on graduating valedictorian and defending her state title in swimming. She's not looking for distractions, especially when it comes to Paul, the guy she's crushing on, and Dylan, her rival's older brother, who starts paying attention to Ash. Will she be able to swim through the waves in her life to achieve her dreams?

RUNNING IN CIRCLES
Ash is back for her second trimester of school and ends up running in circles like first trimester. She makes a bet with Dylan about Paul, which she knows she can't lose. But Dylan is as fierce a competitor as Ash. Will Ash stumble as she gets close to the finish line?

CYCLING DOWNHILL
Things haven't gone according to plan for Ash, but she's back on track and coasting downhill. She enters a triathlon with Paul, but ends up competing with Dylan. Both boys have a place in their heart for Ash, but only one can win her heart. Who will come out the winner?

RACING AHEAD
Taylor excels in sports and academics, but when it comes to love...she's a novice. Will Taylor win when it comes to affairs of the heart, or will she give into the expectations thrust upon her?

SWIMMING AFTER LOVE
An extended epilogue to the series, find out where your favorite Love is a Triathlon characters end up in their first semester of college. Has Ash held on to love or will it slip away as she swims in college?

FOR THE LOVE OF SPORTS series
TRAIL CROSSINGS
Lucy is a shell of herself after a bike crash during a race. She refuses to get back on her mountain bike, but then her training partner declares his love for her. Will the love of her best friend's brother be enough to help her find the right path to healing or will she continue to shut everyone out?

LOVE WITH TRAINING WHEELS
Maya's torn between a virtual bicycle riding partner and the boy who visits his great-grandma across the street. While Maya is an expert on a bicycle trainer, she still needs training wheels when it comes to love. When Maya's virtual world collides with her real world, will she hold on or crash?

SWIMMING UPSTREAM
The gray t-shirt I pull over my head engulfs my body, and I want to cower in it and hide. I loathe this locker room with its chipped purple lockers and wood benches likely to give you a splinter. It smells of hair products, perfume, and flowery deodorant. The sounds of high-pitched giggles and obnoxious chit chat echo through the room. In every open space there are girls fixing their hair, girls reapplying makeup, and girls changing into yoga clothes. Their sports bras and tiny spandex bottoms, which would never pass dress code, seem to be acceptable for a PE yoga class.

Every senior is required to take one trimester of a physical education class to graduate. Many of the senior girls take yoga, because if you show up you get an A. It seems most of the popular seniors registered for yoga. Lucky me. I get to share a locker room with them. How is it the popular crowd always ends up in classes together and I rarely get one class with a friend?

Amid the popular clique, I’m uncomfortable and unseen. In the same locker bay as them, I huddle in the corner. I straighten my too large t-shirt and shove my stuff in a locker.

“I ate way too much for lunch.” Caitlyn runs her fingers through her enviable long blonde hair. “I look bloated in this outfit.”

Caitlyn doesn’t look bloated, and in my opinion, she could eat a second lunch and still look incredible. Everyone knows she’ll be voted homecoming queen this year.

“No,” Lark, another uber popular girl, says. “You look amazing.”

Faced away from the popular girls, I roll my eyes and clasp my lock. These girls don’t know what letter my name starts with, and yet I know all of them. My palms are clammy from nerves because of the gym class I’m about to attend, but a class with this crowd would give me a panic attack. I tiptoe my way around the popular set, like a mouse skittering past a cat. The locker room door squeaks open with my push and I exhale in relief. The hallway is deserted and quiet, just how I like it, a far cry from the bustling madness between class periods. The silence is blissful, and I stare at the bright green door in front of me. It’s a doorway to my future and a path to help me improve. It doesn’t matter if I’m the only girl.

After a few seconds of hesitation, I shove through the door. A wave of humidity washes over me and my nostrils are assailed with the stench of sweat, body odor, and probably lingering mold. The putrid smell nearly causes me to gag. I breathe through my mouth to avoid the unpleasant aroma and scan the area.

The school weight room is already crowded with guys. They enter through a door leading to the boys’ locker room. Golden Valley High was built in the sexist years when weightlifting was a male dominated activity. You’d think we still separate genders since I’m the only female here. Why don’t any of the females who CrossFit and weight train attend my school?

I gravitate to the back corner and hug the wall. This is an inconspicuous place to stand and with darting eyes I observe my surroundings. There are a few recognizable guys from the football team. One football player, sporting a sweat band from the eighties, bench presses and another spots him. Other guys curl free weights or do squats with dumbbells equal to my weight. Everyone seems to know what to do, except me. I shuffle on my feet, cross my arms over my chest, and remind myself why I signed up for this class. I’m here to get stronger and improve my swimming.

This past summer I attended a swim camp at the State University, and the swim coach devised a weight training plan to help me build muscle and drop time this season. My focus this year is to improve my swimming and maintain my straight A’s. There isn’t room for anything else.

“You!” A deep voice startles me out of my inner thoughts. “What are you doing here? Yoga is upstairs.”

My head jerks away from the benching football players to see who’s speaking. Mr. Micah, the head trainer and a physical education teacher, points at me. My cheeks feel warm as boys’ heads turn my direction. It’s like I’ve descended into a sacred temple where females aren’t allowed. Mr. Micah’s eyes narrow and he walks my way with short, purposeful strides. He may lack height, but he makes up for it in muscle size. His biceps are larger than my thighs.

Saliva builds up in the back of my throat and I swallow hard. “I’m Ash Stampford. I signed up for weight training.” I bump into the wall when I take an uncertain step back.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Micah looks up at me, the top of his buzz cut at my nose. A frown coats his face. “I don’t get many females in this class during first trimester. You’d better not be here…”

He leaves the sentence hanging and my shoulders hunch. My mind and everyone else’s fill in the blank. Some of the guys nearby try not to snicker. Others don’t even hide it and they laugh out loud. My lips quiver while I dig my fingernails into my palms.

“I signed up for weight training.” My voice cracks. “To help my swimming.”

Mr. Micah eyes me as if it’s the silliest statement he’s ever heard.

“Ash is the best swimmer in the school,” a male voice says.