“You dropped that guy! Nice job!” I offered a high-five.
He tossed me a side smile and smacked my hand. “It’s no big deal. He wasn’t as good as people built him up to be.” He sniffed, trying to play it off.
“Oh, shut up. He was good and you destroyed him,” I said, calling his bullshit and causing his smile to grow.
“I know, right!” He squeezed just above my knee.
“Stop!” I burst out laughing while trying to pry his torturous hand away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, faking concern while continuing to tickle my leg.
“Till! Please!” I folded down in the chair, using both of my hands to unsuccessfully stop only one of his.
“You okay, Doodle? You look like you’re having some trouble there?”
I continued to laugh, all the while threatening his life under my breath. I finally resorted to violence by punching his thigh with my knuckle.
“Damn,” he cussed, rubbing his leg, but he did release mine.
“I seriously hate you sometimes.”
“No, you don’t.” He dropped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his side for a brief hug, but it wouldn’t have been Till if he didn’t complete the piss circle by kissing my temple.
Derrick cleared his throat, reminding me that he was, indeed, watching our little tussle. We might have been twenty-one, but we pretty much always acted like we were thirteen again. Some things never change.
“Sorry,” I said to Derrick, embarrassed for having acted like a giggling fool.
He smiled warmly and opened his mouth to speak, but Till got there first.
“Hey, Q’s in the dressing room getting wrapped. You want to come with me to wish him good luck?”
“Yeah!” I all but jumped out of my seat.
I could watch Flint and Till fight all day long, but I still thought of Quarry as such a little boy, so I was a bag of nerves. And Till knew it because he’d spent half of the morning laughing at me as I’d tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Quarry to give it a few more months.
I stood up without another thought of the sexy, blue eyes on my other side.
Till guided me through the crowded gym with a hand planted securely on my lower back. I’d long since stopped reading into his every touch. That had become way too time consuming over the years. But just because I didn’t dwell on his advances didn’t mean I’d stopped throwing my own. Just as he pressed his hand to urge me forward, I seductively arched my back. I honestly couldn’t help myself. He let out a loud grumble, but I couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t like it or if, even worse, because he did.
A few people stopped to congratulate Till on his big win, but eventually, we made it back to the dressing room. My nerves calmed as soon as I saw Quarry sitting on a table in only a pair of boxing trunks. Slate was standing in front of him, taping up his hands.
“That’s just gross. You have muscles!” I cried out teasingly.
“You like what you see?” Quarry flexed his arm, showing off a tiny, yet totally defined, bicep.
“Are you smuggling grapes, Q?” I joked, and his smile grew.
“I could ask the same question to your bra,” he responded, and my mouth gaped open.
“Hey!” Till and Slate scolded at the same time.
“What?” he yelled innocently. “I was kidding. We were just joking around. Tell ’em, Eliza.”
I was afraid that, if I spoke, the laughter I was desperately trying to suppress would leak out. “Yeah. Joking. Totally.”
I bit my lip and turned to Till, who had his hands planted on his hips. Because I’d been fully expecting him to be pissed at Quarry, I was surprised to see that his shitty attitude was aimed at me.
“What’s that look for?”
His shoulders flexed as he cracked his neck. “I don’t want you talking to him anymore.”
“And here we go,” Slate mumbled from across the room.
“Uhh . . . who? Quarry?” I asked in shock.
“Derrick. I don’t like him, and I sure as shit don’t want you anywhere near him.” He narrowed his eyes at me, taking me aback by this sudden attitude.
It was unusual for Till to be an ass to me, but it wasn’t exactly an anomaly. I knew exactly how to handle him.
I very calmly pasted on a patronizing smile. “Well, I didn’t know that, Till. Perhaps it would be easier if you made me a list of who I’m allowed to talk to,” I said condescendingly as I dug into my purse and pulled out a sketchpad. Dramatically, I licked the end of the pencil before poising it over the paper. “Or wait. A leash might be better for full control over who I’m near. I’m sure we could temporarily rig one up with a jump rope or something. Please just let me know what works best for you.” I popped an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Quarry told Slate as they started laughing behind me.
“Don’t give me that shit, Doodle. I don’t like him. He’s a self-centered, arrogant prick. ”