Swagger

by Liz Lincoln

  Bree let out an anguished, frustrated sound. He glanced over to see her digging her palms into her eyes. His chest ached to reach out for her.

  “You’re just like the rest of them. I thought you were different, but you’re just like all the others. You think you know what I need. You think you can just pull some strings, manipulate me like a fucking puppet. And I’ll do what you want.” She dropped her hands to glare at him. “I’ve got news for you, big shot Marcus James. I don’t need you to fucking fix my life. It’s under control. I can do it myself and I don’t need some fucking man stepping in. Not my brothers, not my ex, not my dad, and sure as fuck not you.”

  “That’s not…I wasn’t trying to fix your life. Christ, Bree. I was just trying to do you a favor.” She made it sound like he was some misogynistic pig who thought women needed men to take care of everything. Nothing could be further from the truth. He knew plenty of women who could kick his ass. Maybe not physically, but intellectually, in their capacity to run their lives smoothly or just in general ability to kick ass and take names. Either one of his sisters fit that bill. Tanni, Celia, even his mom, for all the grief he gave her.

  And leading that pack was Bree. It was one of the things he found most attractive about her. No, he didn’t think she needed him to fix anything. He just wanted to be part of helping her kick a little more ass. And shit, Celia and her together? CTE didn’t stand a chance.

  “I don’t want your favors! If I need a favor, I’ll ask for it!” She was all-out yelling at him now. “I thought we covered this when you paid the vet bill. Fucking ask first.”

  Marcus didn’t understand why this upset her to the level it did, but he did understand that she needed to yell. So he didn’t interrupt her or ask her to calm down. Besides, when in the history of humanity had telling someone to calm down actually had the intended effect?

  “I’m so tired of people thinking they need to fix things when I have them completely under control. You step in and make it worse. So just fucking leave me alone.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you want? Me to leave you alone?” Anger sparked in his chest as he turned the car onto her street. He didn’t even remember the drive from the stadium to her house, but here they were. And his patience had worn thin. “Look, I’m sorry I talked to Celia. I thought I was doing a nice thing for you, but obviously I was wrong. For the record, I talked to her before we discussed me paying the vet bill. Just so we’re clear there. And I’m sorry it upset you. I’m sorry I did it.”

  “I never asked you to do any favors for me.”

  “Yeah, you said that.” He pulled into her driveway and shoved the car into park. Cut the engine. “So what is this then? This thing with us. We just fucking around, having a good time? Just getting our rocks off?” He felt sick inside, just saying the words. She was so much more than a good fuck. He thought she felt the same, but he’d been wrong before.

  They sat in silence, staring straight ahead. He could feel the need to get mean rolling up inside him, and he struggled to keep it at bay. He would not say something to her that he couldn’t take back.

  “We always knew this wasn’t anything serious anyway,” she said softly.

  There was something in her voice, something he couldn’t identify that hinted at something deeper to her words. But he didn’t know how to even begin to address it. He wanted to call bullshit on her saying they were nothing serious. The way he felt about her was very serious. But he wasn’t about to open himself up to that vulnerability when she was about to dump his ass.

  “No, I guess it isn’t.” His voice was colder than he meant it to be, but hell, she was about to break up with him. It didn’t exactly give him the warm fuzzies.

  They sat there for another long, heavy moment. His brain whirled, trying to think of something, anything, to say to fix this. But how could he, when he still didn’t entirely understand why she was so upset? He got that she didn’t like him talking to Celia without clearing it with her first. But her level of anger seemed disproportionate.

  Or maybe he was just a self-absorbed asshole. Who the fuck knew?

  “I guess I’ll see you in class.” Bree’s hands were wrapped in fists around the strap of her purse. “I—” She shook her head. “Goodbye, Marcus.”

  The slam of the car door felt ominous in the still night. Melodramatic maybe, but it was how he felt. As he watched her walk up her driveway, he couldn’t shake the sense that he just lost one of the best things to ever happen to him.

  Chapter 17

  As an outgoing guy and a public figure, Marcus rarely felt out of his element. But standing at the back of the large classroom in the physics building the following Friday, watching a dozen people surround Bree to offer her handshakes, hugs, and congratulations, he thought of the old Sesame Street song about how one of the things was not like the others, one of the things didn’t belong.

  He knew she’d seen him. When she’d finished presenting her research and asked the audience if they had any questions, she looked around the room. Their eyes had connected, and he didn’t miss the tensing of her shoulders.

  He hadn’t come to make her uncomfortable. He came because, well, he didn’t really know. He’d just known when he woke up that morning it was already on his mental agenda for the day. He hadn’t even stopped to think about why.

  This was one of the biggest moments in her life. And he wanted to be part of it. Even if he was just standing on the sidelines watching.

  If that wasn’t a fucking metaphor for his life this year, he didn’t know what was.

  He edged his way toward the front of the room. He at least wanted to congratulate her. Her dissertation committee was meeting to discuss whether she had passed, but despite her asshole advisor, she’d answered all the questions admirably. He hadn’t understood any of it, but Marcus was still awed by her brilliance.

  Even the dickhead tone her advisor had used, and the jackass questions he asked—even with his limited knowledge of physics, Marcus could tell the questions were bullshit—Bree had answered with much more patience than he would ever have been able to muster.

  She told him it was rare that they didn’t pass a student. She clearly knew her stuff. By the end of the day, she would be Bree Novak, PhD.

  “Fuck Bryant,” Marcus was close enough to hear Reina say. “You know the others have your back. It’s in the bag, girlfriend. You got this.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Bree’s voice sounded tight.

  Marcus recognized that tightness. It was how she sounded when he brought her home after taking Diablo to the vet. It was her anxiety.

  He ached to rush to her, to hold her and help her breathe through the panic. To do whatever he could to help her. Or if he couldn’t, to simply be there for her while she worked through it.

  He shouldn’t have come. Being so close to her was killing him. As much as he wanted to congratulate her, maybe it was better if he left. She had her friends, and he knew one of the professors was having a party for her at his house in a few hours.

  She didn’t need him.

  “Marcus, wait.”

  Her sweet voice stopped him halfway up the aisle. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to him in almost a week. He closed his eyes and shored up his defenses before he turned to face her.

  “Hey.” He was a regular conversational genius. “Nice job. I mean, I didn’t understand ninety-nine percent of it, but everyone else seemed to think you know what you’re talking about.”

  A faint smile flickered over her mouth. “Thanks.”

  He laughed awkwardly. “And hey, a testament to your teaching skills that I understood even one percent of it. Six months ago, the entire thing might as well have been in Greek.”

  “So I’ve got that going for me.”

  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, because if he didn’t do something with his hands, he’d reach for her. He didn’t get to do that anymore. And he couldn’t do it in public anyway.

  “Y
eah, so…Congratulations. I’ve no doubt Reina is right, you’ll be a doctor by the end of the day. That’s incredible.” He lifted his gaze to hers and willed every ounce of sincerity into it. “I’m really proud of you.”

  “Marcus…” Her expression looked pained. He hated that. “Why are you here?”

  He took a step toward her, then another, into her space. He couldn’t touch her, but maybe up close she would see how serious he was. She would see that he was in love with her.

  Holy shit. He was in love with her.

  “This is a huge moment for you. I wanted to be here.” His hand lifted, reaching for her, so he shoved it into his pocket. “To support you.”

  She just looked at him, a dozen different expressions floating across her sweet face. Her cheeks had turned pink, but he couldn’t read everything she was silently telling him.

  Urgency pounded in his chest. It felt like the do-or-die moment. Like it was fourth down, on the one-yard line, down by five points so a field goal did them no good. He needed a touchdown, or he’d lose Bree forever.

  “Can we—”

  The classroom door opened, cutting off whatever Marcus had been about to say. He wasn’t even sure what. Other than telling her again how sorry he was for fucking up the thing with Celia. Maybe telling her that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her. He’d talked to Celia, and knew she and Bree were meeting the following week. Celia also said Bree had offers from Carnegie Mellon and Duke.

  It didn’t matter. If she went to Pittsburgh or to Durham, they’d make it work. He’d spend his off-seasons there.

  But he didn’t get to tell her right now. Her shithead advisor and the other professors on her committee filed back into the room. Dr. Shithead had a dour expression that looked like he was at his best friend’s funeral. The other two men and one woman all beamed.

  She passed.

  From the grin on her face and the tears welling in her eyes, she knew it too. Pride and excitement swelled up inside Marcus, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her in for a huge hug. He wanted to kiss her but settled for inhaling her warm, soft sent. “Congratulations, Dr. Novak.”

  She pulled back and looked at him with a soft expression. The way she’d looked at him when she was still his. “Thank you.” She glanced toward the committee members, then back to him. “I need to go.”

  He should go too. He didn’t belong here. And this was obviously not the time or place for them to talk. But he didn’t want to let go of her.

  “I’ll see you in class then.” Heart and stomach as heavy as if they had missed that one-yard touchdown and lost the game, Marcus took a step back. Then he remembered the card in his pocket. He pulled it out and handed it to her. “I’m proud of you, Bree. Congratulations.”

  And he walked away.

  Chapter 18

  “Thank you so much for meeting with me here.” Celia adjusted the pillow behind her back and shifted restlessly on the couch. It had only been ten days since Bree had last seen her, but she looked impossibly bigger.

  Celia had called Bree that morning, asking if they could meet at her house rather than in Celia’s office. Her doctor had her on modified bedrest, so she was working from home.

  “No problem,” Bree said. Even after everything that happened with Marcus, she was still enough of a fangirl to be tickled about being in Matt Baxter’s living room. “Do you need anything? If you direct me, I can get you a snack or something to drink.”

  “No thanks. I appreciate it. But they keep pumping me full of IV bags of fluid, and clearly none of them have ever had two babies dancing on their bladder. They want me to stay off my feet, which is impossible when I have to pee every twenty seconds.” She gestured toward the kitchen, visible in the open-concept great room. “And the best hostess I can be is to offer to tell you where you can find a drink if you’d like something.”

  Bree shook her travel coffee mug. “I came prepared.”

  “Then let’s get down to business,” Celia said. She rested a notebook on her belly and fiddled with a pen in her left hand.

  The two women spent the next hour discussing Bree’s experience and background, along with the job Celia was looking to fill. As the minutes ticked by, excitement rose in Bree. She had offers from Carnegie Mellon and Duke, both good offers, both working under physicists she respected greatly. And both positions were ideal springboards for her career in academic medicine.

  But this job, working for Celia, was cutting-edge research right off the bat. Yes, it was a huge risk to get involved with a start-up, though it wasn’t a true start-up as it was affiliated with the Traumatic Brain Injury Initiative. And it was always easier to make the jump from academia to the private sector than the reverse. But the longer they talked, the more Bree’s sense grew that if she passed up this opportunity, she’d spend the rest of her life asking what if.

  Or was she looking for an excuse to stay in Milwaukee because it was comfortable? She’d been in Wisconsin all her life, growing up in a suburb of Madison, going to UW for undergrad, and Milwaukee University for graduate school. Now her best friend was staying in state. She would be near her other friends in Milwaukee.

  She would be near Marcus.

  And that was where she got hung up the most. Which was dumb. She couldn’t make her decision based on some guy she’d hooked up with but was no longer with. A celebrity, no less. She wouldn’t just be a fool, she’d be a damn fool to let him factor into her decision in any way.

  Even if she was in love with him. But that would go away. Eventually.

  “So what do you think?” Celia asked. “We’ve had a few other applicants for the position and I’ve done phone interviews with them. They’re not local. One of them seems like a pretty decent candidate. But I’ll be completely honest. I think you’d be the best fit.”

  “Well…I…Thank you.” A flush rose from Bree’s chest, up her neck to her cheeks. “I think it sounds like a really great program. It’s exactly the kind of research I had in mind when I chose this field.”

  “I like the idea of us being…,” Celia looked up, waving her hand in a circle as if searching for the right words. “Not all women. But a lot of women. Ideally, majority women. There are enough men doing a lot of research at a lot of places. And I haven’t really discussed this with Matt, or with my boss at TBI Initiative, but I want this research group to be somewhere women can come and flourish. I’ll need a development staff under me. And of course we’ll have a science director who oversees all the research. Unless I get no qualified applicants, those leadership positions will be women.” She leaned toward Bree as much as her belly would allow. “I don’t think technically I’m allowed to say that, but I’m not sure. HR crap has never been my forte. So keep that between you and me.”

  “A few weeks ago, my advisor said he didn’t want to grant me my PhD because women don’t belong in science,” Bree said. “I know I earned it. I know there’s no question I know what I’m doing and that I did a good job on my research. But it’s still demoralizing to hear that the only reason your advisor is passing you is because it would look bad for the department if you failed. I wish I could say Milwaukee University is unique in having professors with this attitude. But STEM fields are still very much boys’ clubs. I can’t say that the other offers I’ve gotten are necessarily going to be an unfriendly environment for me. But I can’t say they won’t. So knowing that your research group is going to be a place where being a woman is viewed as an asset, that’s very appealing.”

  Celia grinned. Her amber eyes sparkled, the joy on her face making her look like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning. “Then the job is yours.”

  Bree couldn’t help matching Celia’s grin. Excitement swelled and a profound sense of accomplishment settled over her. Still, she wasn’t going to make an emotional, knee-jerk decision.

  Because Celia had been so honest with her, Bree owed her the same. “I really want to say yes. So much. But I think it would be best if I take some
time, just a few days, and consider all three of my offers. This is a huge decision, and I need to make sure it’s the right one.”

  “Absolutely.” Celia startled, as if someone had kicked her. Which a tiny someone probably had. “It’s Tuesday. Think about it. I’ll call you next Monday. Does that work?”

  “Yeah. Sounds good.” Six days. She had six days to decide the rest of her life.

  No, that wasn’t completely terrifying and overwhelming.

  Her chest squeezed, some of the excitement being displaced by anxiety. Dammit, a job offer for her dream job was a good thing. Couldn’t her stupid brain figure that out? She was not having a panic attack right now.

  Determined to keep the anxiety at bay, Bree took another deep breath and said, “How are you feeling?” If they transitioned from job interview and offer to casual, tentative, almost friends, the distraction should help Bree calm down.

  “Tired. Huge. Ready for this to be over. Not looking forward to nine more weeks.”

  Bree figured it wouldn’t be helpful to point out that she also looked huge and tired.

  “Unfortunately, my girls aren’t quite ready for this to be over. They need to bake for a little longer.” Celia’s face softened as she rubbed her hand over her belly.

  It was probably too nosy for their level of friendship to ask exactly what was going on that Celia needed to be on bed rest. Bree needed distraction, but that didn’t excuse being rude.

  “Not to be a bitch,” Celia said, “but I have a conference call in fifteen minutes. I’ll email you all the things we talked about and give you a call around three on Monday. Does that sound good?”

  “Absolutely.” Bree stood and reached for her coat where it was draped over the back of her chair. Shrugging into it, she said, “Hope you can get some rest.”

  Bree let herself out of the house and headed for her car. Excitement and panic still warred in her chest, leaving her feeling antsy and disoriented. She needed to go to the university and fill out some paperwork, and she had class later.