“You’ll see tonight. He has these beady, blue eyes that stick to everything with a skirt, so wear jeans, loose ones.”
She laughs, squeezing me. “You are unbelievable.”
“If by that you mean unbelievably certain a loose top will go good with the loose jeans too, then yeah.”
She flicks her hand, still laughing. “I don’t own a pair of loose jeans.”
I shrug, unable to hide my smile. “You can borrow a pair of mine.”
Olivia pulls away from me and heads toward the open door. “Come on, crazy,” she calls over her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
Without hesitation, I follow her. I pull off my remaining glove and toss it over my shoulder. Maybe I am a little crazy. Maybe I read into things and assume the worst of people, but it’s usually not without reason, and Kye is a good enough reason to be labeled crazy.
***
I down the last mouthful of scotch and Coke as I grit my teeth through the last verse of the song. I like the sound of most genres—rap, rock, jazz, metal and even pop—but I can’t stand the music Kye’s band makes. Scratch that. His band plays well—I like the drums, guitars, and bass—but I don’t like his voice. It’s deep and husky—loud and irritating. Judging by the swaying crowd, I guess I’m the odd one out.
Beside me, Olivia bounces along to the beat, completely mesmerized by the band—whose name is ‘Relentless 21’. Not that it makes any sense at all. She went against my semi-serious suggestion of loose clothing, choosing a tight, white halter neck with a plunging neckline and tight denim short shorts. She looks fucking amazing—absolutely edible—and I’m not the only one thinking it, either. Stares linger on her from every direction and I hate it, but I’m trying to be a better person than I once was, so I ignore them. To make matters worse, she’s not wearing a bra, either, and every time Kye hits a low note, I see her nipples harden against the fabric.
The Cage is full to the point of bursting at the seams. Maddi says we’re lucky to get a booth in the front, but it seems her and I have two very different perceptions of the word ‘lucky.’
The electric guitar strums out the last chord and the song finishes. I almost slump in relief. Maddi and Olivia turn back into the booth, giggling like little school girls.
“They’re amazing!” Olivia gushes, leaning across the table to my sister.
“I told you.” She pushes a shot in Olivia’s direction, but Olivia slides it to me.
“And I told you I’m extremely hung over. No alcohol for me ever again.”
As she finishes, Kye announces another set after a five minute break and climbs down off the stage before moving in our direction. I take the shot and slam it back without a second thought. If I have to talk to him, I’m going to need it. Olivia slides closer to me, hooking one of her arms around mine.
“Take it easy,” she says. “I’m not strong enough to carry you home.”
Kye slips into the booth next to my sister, planting a forceful kiss on her mouth. When he’s finished, his blue eyes flick between Olivia and I.
“Seth,” he says, deciding to start with me first. “It’s good to see you, man.”
I watch him, drawing out the silence. He has a new hairstyle, short and unruly… it’s slightly better than the long blond fringe, but still just as feminine. Olivia nudges me subtly (but hard) in the ribs.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I reply bluntly.
Maddi rolls her eyes and I shake my head at her. She knows I’m not one to fuck around. If I don’t like you, you’ll know straight away. Coincidently, I don’t like Kye. I don’t like the way he looks, the way he talks, or the way he acts, and he knows that.
“And this is your wife?”
He turns his ice blue gaze onto Olivia and they rake over her with obvious appreciation. I tap my index finger in an even beat along the top of the table. “Yep.”
“I’m Olivia,” she says, taking over and extending her hand to him.
He takes her hand in his and I find myself glaring at him as he leans forward and kisses the top of her hand. She smiles at him, looking perfectly polite.
“I wasn’t aware people kiss hands anymore,” I state, not bothering to hide my discomfort.
Olivia peers sideways at me with warning clear in her eyes, but I ignore it. There are two halves to everything, good and bad, yin and yang—good cop, bad cop. She’s the cute, bubbly one who tends to be a lot nicer than me. She’s better at greetings and being kind to people. I’m shit at first impressions, even worse at being nice when I don’t want to. What more can you want from a better half? I’m egotistical, spoiled and arrogant. She’s kind, generous, and thoughtful. They’re called ‘better halves’ for a reason, I guess. You can’t have one half that’s worse than you. It’d be a disaster.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your band is amazing.”
He smiles, exposing his white teeth. Most new musicians are humble and even blush a little when you compliment them. Not Kye. He takes compliments like he deserves them.
“We are, aren’t we?” he replies, his eyes quickly flicking to her chest.
My sister has never cared when Kye’s caught ogling other women or flirting. She claims he only does it to boost his band, but I know better. I see it on his face. It’s so obvious it might as well be written in permanent marker for all to see. He’s untrustworthy and he’s going to fuck over my little sister any day now. I’ve told her a million times that I know guys like him—I used to be just like him—but she refuses to listen. Blinded by love. It’s such a stupid thing and yet we all fall for it at one point or another. Kye reminds me of Blade… maybe that’s another reason my distaste for him has grown over the last few months.
“Married now, eh?” He flicks his eyebrows at me. “You did all right for yourself.”
Olivia gives out a nervous laugh and my eyebrows draw together. “I know I did.”
“Don’t be seedy.” Maddi giggles, shoving him with her shoulder. “Seth will kick your ass.”
Kye slings his arm over the back of the booth and relaxes. He seems pretty content. He seems to believe I won’t pull him across the table and smash his face in.“Seth wouldn’t kick my ass.”
I pluck a quarter of a lemon from the bowl in the middle of the table. I need something to keep my hands busy. “Careful,” I warn, managing to hold a bored tone in my voice. “I just might.”
Of course, he laughs it off like it’s no big deal—like I’m playing some kind of game. I don’t play games… not outside of my bedroom, anyway. I bring the lemon between my lips and suck in the juice. It’s sour—very sour—but I manage to keep a straight face.
“I gotta head back to the stage, but I’m down for going out afterwards if you guys are. Maddi can sort it out.” He plants a quick kiss on Maddi’s head and leaves before Olivia or I can protest.
“We’re not going out,” I tell Maddi and she nods, knowing not to push her luck. She already got me here… she should be counting her lucky stars.
Shortly after Kye’s departure, Maddi slips from the booth to give out business cards and free t-shirts. I watch her as she mingles with the crowd. The band is lucky to have my sister. They wouldn’t be able to get half of the gigs they pull without the help of her pretty face.
I drop the lemon skin on the table and exhale. I’m about ready to go now. I’ve had one too many drinks and there’s a familiar tingle in my stomach that spreads to my hands… it’s the same feeling I get when I always drink, the feeling that urges me to punch or fuck something. My head spins and my mouth is numb, but Olivia is having way too much fun to want to go home now. We’ve only been here an hour and she seems interested enough in the band to want to see the rest of their set. Unfortunately for her, I don’t think I have the stomach to sit through another song.
I shift closer to Olivia, knowing exactly how to get her attention. I rest my arm along the back of the booth and run my index finger in soothing circles over her shoulder. Her posture straightens and she angles her head, her lips pursed as she tries hard to come off as unimpressed.
“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”
I raise my eyebrows, feigning shock. “Me? I’m not doing anything.”
Olivia leans in close—so close I feel her breath on my ear. Phantom pins and needles flood the tips of my fingers and burn with the urge to touch her. “I’m not going to let you seduce me into leaving. As of this very moment—and for the remainder of the night—I’m declaring my body a no go zone for you, Mr. Marc.”
I pull back, smiling. “You couldn’t resist me even if you tried.”
Her brows arch. She hates it when I challenge her. “Oh yeah?”
I nod, feeling as confident as ever. She can’t resist me, we’ve played this game too many times and I still come out on top—pun intended.
“I’m quite capable of resisting you.” She shifts in her seat, turning her back to me. “Just you watch.”
Ignoring me, she watches the band. I lean toward her and brush her chocolate hair over one shoulder. Her scent—the scent of grape body wash mixing with pomegranate shampoo, filters in through my nose. My brain rolls in my skull again and another urge begins to build in the pit of my stomach—whether the urge is one of arousal or the acceptance of a challenge is beyond me. I drag my lip over her shoulder, drawing closer to the base of her neck. I feel goosebumps erupt over her skin and I smile against her soft flesh.
“I want to go home,” I say, circling her waist with my arm. “Now.”
She shakes her head, but otherwise ignores me. I pull her back, almost into my lap. I don’t like being ignored. It’s a strange feeling, one I’m not used to.
“That’s cute,” I tell her. “You think I’m asking for your permission?”
I drop my mouth back to her shoulder, all while holding her tightly by the waist—her back flush against my torso. She feels good and I would be as hard as a rock if it weren’t for Kye’s shitty voice in the background. Olivia squirms in my grasp. She should know better… the more she reacts, the further I want to go. I slip my hand underneath her shirt and glide it across her firm, warm navel. I feel her muscles clench and relax—tighten and soften—all in sync with my lips. After a few small eternities pass me by, she turns her head, looking at me from over her shoulder. Her mouth calls to mine, drawing me nearer, like a moth to a lamp. Her lips graze the corner of mine and she drags an inhale through her nose, before expelling it slowly.
“You win,” she utters. “Let’s go home.”
I fight a cocky smile. A suggestive brush of my lips was all it took for victory to be mine.
“In the shower room and now in a public bar? Do you two ever stop?”
I freeze as Don’s ‘seedy’ voice stops her lips in their tracks. Underneath my hand, Olivia’s stomach tenses. “I half expect to see a tribe of kids following you two around by how frequently you get it on.”
She slips from my lap with a heavy exhale. I angle my body back into the table and grab the nearest coaster. I distract myself from his ugly face by tapping it to the beat of the music I don’t like. I can’t leave the bar now… Don will think I’m running from him.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Don,” Olivia deadpans, peering around him and towards the band.
“Fun fact,” he says, ignoring his obvious dismissal.
I look at him in his white tank top and baggy black jeans. He’s a grade-A douchebag, that’s for sure.
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard my name and ‘pleasure’ in the same sentence.”
I grit my teeth and crush the coaster in the palm of my hand. My imagination goes rampant as I picture myself kicking the crap out of him. I imagine dragging him over to the stage and throwing him at Kye, too. What’s the saying? Two birds with one stone?
Olivia laughs once. “It doesn’t count when you say it to yourself. Now go, we’re trying to watch the band.”
With a flick of his palms and a devilish grin in my direction, he strolls over to the bar with one of his boys in tow. It takes a lot of effort on my part to sit here and not talk to him. I want to talk to him—to chastise him for being a loser, for bringing nothing to the sport but cowardice and dishonesty. If someone like Don is what the MMAC admires, then why do I strive so hard to be a part of it? I’m not an angel, but I’m straight forward. What you see is what you get. I don’t try to be nice or play people against each other… Matt Somers needs to realize that I’m a grown ass man, not a child he can manipulate.
“Do you want to go home?” Olivia mutters when Don isn’t looking.
I shake my head. I can’t stomach the thought of Don believing he affects me. I need to stay here… to prove to myself that he can’t get into my head. Before Olivia’s father passed away, he told me that ‘no one can bother you unless you let them.’ So I tell myself over and over; Don doesn’t bother me. He doesn’t bother me. I tear the coaster into tiny pieces and drop it onto the table. I inhale, ignoring the way the room spins, then exhale. If Don stays on his side of the bar and away from me and Olivia, I’ll be fine. But if he so much as takes a single step closer to us, I won’t be responsible for my actions.
***
Olivia
Relentless 21 is amazing. Their music is fast and loud—the lyrics relevant and motivating… Seth isn’t enjoying it as much as I am, however. I think it has more to do with the fact the lead singer, Kye, is with his sister rather than the music. I wonder if Seth is threatened by Kye? I mean, Kye is no Seth, but he’s easily one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen—if not a little too pretty.