by Linda Verji
“Lex’s crush,” she answered, unaware of his contradictory emotions. “Lex went as Tony Stark, which is fitting cause he’s always the smartest guy in the room.”
Marcel shook his head slowly as he stared at her.
Olivia gave him a questioning look. “What?”
“Comic-Con, Lords of Fiera…” He settled back into the couch as he balanced his plate on his thigh. “It’s just hard to picture you as a nerd.”
“More like nerd by association.” Her slow grin was irresistible and he found himself responding in kind. “I was really shy in college, and Lex was my only friend. Since he liked Sc-Fi and Fantasy stuff and we spent so much time together, I acquired a taste for it.”
Marcel’s interest sharpened. “You were shy in college?”
“Yeah!” Her eyes shadowed giving him the impression that there was a story behind her shyness. She quickly covered it with a smile and gestured downwards to her body. “What you see here is Olivia Two Point O. Enjoy.”
Marcel stared at her for a long time, taking in her smile and the vulnerability behind it. He said quietly, “I think I would’ve liked Olivia one point O too.”
Her laugh was warm and light. “I doubt that. We probably would’ve hated each other on sight.”
He didn’t think so. The only reason he’d had any sort of problem with her was because of the things Tay had told him, and his misconceptions about her relationship with Lex. Marcel had a feeling that if left alone, he and Olivia would’ve gotten along very well indeed. Rather than get into it with her, he shrugged. “Maybe.”
But seeing that vulnerability in her sparked his memory of the reason he’d registered at their gym in the first place. “Livy, I saw Nikki at your gym the other day. Has she come at you?”
“No.” Olivia wrinkled her nose. “She comes to train but she hasn’t started any drama.”
Immediate relief pulsed through him. He smiled. “Good. I’d hate to see your pretty face scratched.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped open and she glared at him. “That is so sexist.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “What part of that was sexist?”
“The part where you assumed I’d be scratched.” Curling her feet under her, she said, “Not all girls fight with their nails. I’ll have you know I throw a pretty mean punch.”
He trailed his eyes up and down her body, then murmured. “I doubt it.”
“Watch it, Isaac.” She narrowed her eyes. “You might find yourself in a ring.”
“That would be like Howard Wolowitz trying to fight Mike Tyson,” he guffawed. “Total wipeout. I’d have you picking your teeth off the floor before first round is over.”
“What? Have you seen these guns?” She set her plate on the table, pulled the arm of her t-shirt up to her shoulder and flexed her biceps. “Killing machines.”
“Killing machines, my foot,” he scoffed.
“You’re just jealous.” She smirked. “I’ve seen those matchsticks you’re working with.”
Their banter continued for the whole course of their meal. Marcel relaxed in her company enjoying the witty back and forth. He was strangely reluctant to eat the last of his food, and when he said, “It’s already midnight,” it was with genuine disappointment.
“What?” Olivia gasped. “I didn’t even notice the time.”
That made two of them. Marcel rose reluctantly to his feet. “I have to go.”
“Oh!” It was gratifying to see disappointment flash in her eyes as she straightened from the couch. “I guess you’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Yeah!” He watched her slip her feet into a pair of fluffy house shoes, regretting that he couldn’t spend the whole night talking to her.
He wasn’t sure when she had charmed him, but she had – completely. It was fascinating to find out that underneath that shrewish façade she put up for him, was a warm, lively woman. She had personality, smarts, looks and so much in common with him. It was hard to keep from wondering if they’d match in other areas too.
“Thank you for giving me a ride home,” she said as she walked he and Pig to the door.
“You’re welcome,” he returned as she opened the door for them. He turned at the hallway to say, “And thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome,” she mimicked sweetly, as she stood by door, observing him with her head propped on the doorjamb.
His gaze settled on her ripe tempting mouth. His pulse quickened and his blood raced, urging him to lean forward and kiss her. He fought it as fiercely but to keep from giving in, he said, “Bye, Livy,” and turned.
“Bye.” Her soft voice followed him down the stairs.
Blowing out a slow breath, Marcel stepped out of the building. That had been close. Olivia presented too much temptation to his sanity. She’s off limits. She’s off limits. She’s off limits, he reminded himself as he started the car.
He briefly considered quitting the gym to keep away from her.
But it was only a brief consideration. Hell no. His gym at home was not the same as working out with other people. And Body & Spirit was really cheap compared to other gyms. Furthermore, Nikki was there, so he needed to keep an eye on her. Marcel grinned when the image of Olivia shouting at them like a mini-Hitler crossed his mind.
Nope. He was definitely not quitting.
CHAPTER 12
The next evening Marcel was back at Body & Spirit. He told himself that he was only there to work out, but that didn’t stop his pulse from quickening at the thought of seeing Olivia again. It was with great disappointment that he learnt that she wasn’t in.
“She only works for half the day on Fridays and Saturdays,” Morning informed him. “Pete’s really good too though.”
Maybe, but Marcel wasn’t here for Pete.
Morning must’ve noticed his disappointment because she gestured towards a chart to the right of the reception counter. “You can check her schedule there.”
A cursory glance revealed that he could only make her Thursday night class and maybe Saturday… unless he forsook an hour of sleep on Monday and Friday. Then he could attend her six a.m. classes too. Yup! Goodbye sleep.
Rather than join the class going on in the main studio, Marcel headed to the weights room. After doing a couple of sets and making a few new friends, he headed out to Red Hood to meet Sebastien and Ty for their customary Friday night drinks. True to tardy form, Tay hadn’t arrived yet. Sebastien had found them a couch upstairs on the club’s balcony where the music was less deafening.
Sebastien wrinkled his nose as soon as his brother plopped down next to him on the leather couch. “You showered?”
“Yes, some of us still do that,” Marcel retorted.
“Why? Who are you trying to impress?” His brother’s brow wrinkled with suspicious. “Are you and Ty planning to do your dirt tonight? If you are I need to know so I can step right now.”
“No, we’re not,” Marcel offered his brother an exasperated sigh. “I only showered because I’m from the gym.”
As usual the twins attracted immediate attention and the ladies at the nearby table waved at them.
“Don’t even think of waving back,” Sebastien growled. Ignoring him, Marcel smiled and waved to the ladies. Flattered by his attention, they tittered and preened. Who knew? He might hit up one of them up before the night was over.
Getting back to the oh so interesting topic of Marcel’s showering habits, Sebastien asked, “Why are you going to the gym? I thought you built one at your place so you wouldn’t have to register at one?”
“What’s up with the third degree?” Marcel shot him a glare before lifting his hand for one of the servers to come over. He was aware of his twin’s contemplative stare on him as he ordered beers for both of them.
The moment the server walked away to get his order, Sebastien pronounced, “It’s a woman, isn’t it?”
“No,” Marcel protested a bit too quickly. “There’s no woman.”
Sebastien lifted his eyebrows
and sat back in the couch. “Who is she?”
“There is no woman.”
“Okay, let’s pretend I believe you.” Sebastien grinned. “What gym is this that you’ve decided to bless with your money?”
Hell, no. Marcel wasn’t about to incriminate himself like that. Sebastien knew Olivia worked at Body & Spirit and would put two and two together in the blink of an eye. Determined to divert his brother’s attention, Marcel said, “You weren’t at your place when I came by last night. The station giving you more late night shifts?”
Completely ignoring his brother’s question, Sebastien nodded knowingly. “It’s the woman you refused to introduce Sheeda to, isn’t it?”
“She told you about that?”
“Of course she told me about it.” Amusement in his eyes and crooked smile, Sebastien quizzed, “What’s her name?”
“There’s no woman.” Fortunately for Marcel, Tay chose to make his appearance then.
Tay wasn’t alone. He had his arm around a slender, short haired, bronze-toned girl who looked much too young to be in this club.
“Mr. Party’s here,” Tay announced himself cheerily, evidently tipsy. In wide arched gestures, he introduced, “Gents, this is Barbie. Barbie, this is Marcel, the architect and Sebastien, the radio host.”
“I know you,” Barbie gushed as she stared at Marcel. “You’re Sebastien Isaac. You host the morning show on Easy 110. I love your show.”
Marcel only offered her tight-lipped smile while Sebastien watched on with amusement.
“I told you you were hanging with some high class brothers,” Tay assured her with a wide grin and a squeeze of her ass. It earned him a high-pitched giggle from Barbie.
Sebastien and Marcel exchanged looks. This again? Not that they were surprised. Even having a pregnant wife or a nasty breakup with his mistress couldn’t slow Tay down. When it came to women, Tay was like the energizer bunny. He kept going on and on and on, replacing one warm body for another.
Usually his nonsense didn’t matter to either Marcel or Sebastien; after all he and Nikki had an open marriage. But suspecting that the girl had no idea Tay was married made watching their lovey-dovey show extremely awkward.
The moment the girl went off to get a drink, Sebastien confronted Tay. “Does she know you’re married?”
“Of course she does,” Tay dismissed.
Sebastien’s eyebrows rose up. “Like the way Olivia knew or does she really know?”
Instead of answering, Tay shot Marcel an angry bloodshot glare. “You snitched on me?”
Marcel shrugged. Sebastien drew Tay’s attention back to him. “You need to let Barbie know your deal.”
“I don’t know who told you that you’re my daddy, but you need to chill with that bullshit.” Tay narrowed his eyes as he tipped his beer to his lips. “Barbie’s my business.”
Sebastien didn’t answer but Marcel could tell he was angry by the way he was stroking his goatee and looking at Tay with a blank expression. Just then the subject of their attention sashayed her way back to their alcove. Tay pulled the girl onto his lap and initiated a tonsil-deep kiss that Marcel was sure was for he and Sebastien’s benefit.
For the rest of the night Tay showered Barbie with attention and free drinks, charming her like she was the only girl in his life. If he could, Marcel would’ve told Barbie what was up but Tay was his boy. It’s about basic humanity, Olivia’s words rang in his mind but still he couldn’t bring himself to turn on Tay like that. They’d come too far.
However, Tay’s shenanigan’s crossed the line when he told Barbie, “You’re coming home with me and Marcel tonight. You’ll love our house. It’s a-”
“That’s not happening,” Marcel interjected with a firm shake of his head.
Tay’s eyes narrowed on him. Pasting a tight-lipped smile on his face, he turned back to his paramour. “Give me a moment with my boy, baby.” He extracted a couple of dollars from his wallet and handed them to Barbie. “Go get yourself a shot.” The moment she exited with a happy giggle, he turned to Marcel. “What’s up with you?”
“If you want to hook up with her, you’ll need to find yourself a new pad,” Marcel informed him.
“Are you serious right now?” Tay’s brown eyes lit up with unrestrained anger. “I thought Seb was the bitch but-”
“Don’t come at me,” Sebastien interrupted coolly. “I don’t play like that.”
“What? Are you trying to fight me?” Tay slammed his beer onto the table, shaking it with the force of his slam. “You want to fight?”
“I’m done with this.” Extracting his wallet from his pocket, Sebastien counted out a couple of bills then slapped them on the table. Turning to Marcel, he said, “That’s for your next round.” Rising to his feet, he said, “Handle your boy.”
“That’s what I thought,” Tay tossed after the leaving Sebastien. “All talk and no fight.”
Tay must’ve had a death wish to be pushing Sebastien like that. Of the three of them, Marcel’s twin was the cool-tempered - most of the time. But when he lost his head, Sebastien was a beast. Back in college he’d even spent a couple of nights in jail for assaulting some man who’d insulted Rasheeda.
Shaking his head, Marcel rose. “I’m heading out.”
“You too?” Tay looked up at him. “So? What about the guest room?”
“Not happening.” Marcel shook his head. “Rent a hotel room.”
“That’s messed up.” Tay shot him an irritated look. “First you snitch on me to Reverend Seb, and now you won’t give me a room? Foul.”
“My bad,” Marcel said flippantly as he left. He released a slow breath of frustration as he eased his car towards his house. Tay could be so annoying. Faced by his lies constantly, it was often hard to remember that he was one of the most dependable friends when you really needed him.
If it wasn’t for Tay, Marcel highly doubted Sebastien would’ve got out of his assault charge. The twins were broke and orphaned college kids then. They could barely afford rent let alone make bail. Even then, Tay, while merely a law student, had influential connections. He’d rustled up some money and a good lawyer to defend Sebastien.
When Marcel was done with college, it was Tay who’d hooked him up with his first job. Marcel had since moved on to greener pastures but if it wasn’t for Tay he probably wouldn’t be as far as he was in his career.
But still, the guy had some serious women issues.
“Make sure I’m the one manning Thane,” Lex murmured to Olivia on Saturday morning. They were seated on the plastic seats alongside Earnest High School’s basketball court. On court, several people were throwing hoops and fooling around as they waited for the last minute stragglers. Among them was Thane, Lex’s cop-crush.
Some people were made to wear shorts. Thane was not one of them. The awkwardly tall man’s spindly, pale, hairy legs peeked from beneath white basketball shorts almost as short as hers. His thin arms hang like sticks from the blue jersey he was wearing.
At first Olivia had wondered why Lex was so enthralled with the man. She didn’t see the appeal. Then they’d hung out a couple of times and she’d had a chance to get to know him. Now, she understood what Lex saw. Thane was a kind, good man who would move heaven and earth for Lex. It just went to show that sometimes the best packages came wrapped up in not so sexy paper.
“You know that’s called nepotism, right?” She cut her eyes at Lex.
“Yes, and it’s the only reason I drag myself to your Saturday morning thingamajigs,” Lex peered over her shoulders to peer at her clipboard. “Now do your magic.”
“I can’t,” she informed him as she turned back to the people on the court. She counted them then enumerated a number for each of them on the sheet of paper on her clipboard. She added a few extra numbers to cater for the last minute stragglers, unclipped the paper from the clipboard and tore it in pieces congruent to the numbers she’d scribbled on it. “We’re doing random numbers today. So it depends on your luck.”
“Bad friend.” Lex bumped her shoulder. “Bad friend.”
“I try.” Olivia chuckled as she folded the number-pieces and put them in a snapback. Once she was done she lifted from her seat and headed to the court. “Okay, everyone pick a paper. Odd numbers you’re Team Blue. Evens you’re Team Red.”
Wouldn’t you know it? Lex had the very luck of the devil. He picked an odd number while Thane picked an even number. Even before everyone else had figured out where they were supposed to be, he was already by Thane’s side claiming him. Rolling her eyes, Olivia handed out the jerseys.
She was pleasantly surprised when just as they were about to start the game, Marcel strode into the gymnasium. Deplorably, her heart skipped her beat. She pursed her lips in annoyance with herself. Admittedly, she’d enjoyed talking to him the other night, and he’d proved himself less an asshole than she thought. But that meant nothing. He was still Marcel Isaac, womanizer extraordinaire and Tay’s best-friend. Considering her new resolution to deal only with men who were good for her her pulse shouldn’t have been speeding up for him.
She feigned indifference as he made his way towards the group crowded around her. But she was keenly aware of his vibrant brown eyes fastened on her and the smile on his face as he waited for her to finish with everyone else. When it was finally his turn, he offered her a wide grin. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Resisting the impulse to return his captivating smile, she held out the cap. “Pick one.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head as he unfolded the paper and read, “Seven.”
“You’re on Team Blue.” Her voice was all businesslike and brisk as she bent to pick a blue jersey from the carton by her feet and held it out to him.
“What team are you on?” he asked, reaching for the jersey. His fingers brushed against hers, the contact immediately sending a zap of awareness through her.
Quickly releasing the fabric, she said, “I’m the ref.”
“Pity.” He gave a once-over so heated, her toes curled in her sneakers. A wicked gleam in his eyes, he leaned over slightly and lowered his voice to a husky hum. “I would’ve loved to whoop your ass.”
