“I don’t think you understand how it looks,” Curtis said.
They were in the empty office, seated in swivel chairs, facing each other. Lyla was watching the way their hands laced together between Curtis’ parted knees. His fingers weren’t as long or strong as Trick’s were.
“I know you’re worried,” she said and smiled at him when he slid one of his hands out of hers and on to the side of her neck. “You’re my friend, Curt, you know how I feel about you. I would be worried about you too.”
“He’s using you. They’re all using you.”
She understood why it was difficult for him to understand the experience of living in a reality TV show, she hadn’t understood it either. “It’s ok,” Lyla said, smiling to reassure him. “It’s just the way it is.”
“I can’t stand by and let you be hurt,” Curtis said, his voice softening as his hand slid up to her cheek and his thumb grazed over her lips. “You’re so vulnerable and you don’t see it… You don’t see what’s happening. You trust too easily.”
He leaned closer and she knew he was going to rest his forehead on her hairline, like he’d done before, but he never got that far because an angry male voice interrupted.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Lyla couldn’t have been more surprised to turn and see Trick just inside the office door. “Trick,” she said. “This is Curtis and—”
“Yeah, I figured that out, babe,” Trick said, his face set in a weird kind of angry frown that was glued on Curtis as her husband marched toward them. “Just trying to figure out what game he’s playing.”
When Trick got to them, he grabbed Curtis’ shoulder, hauled him up out of his seat and rushed him to the nearby wall. “Trick!” she screamed. “What are you doing?”
But he didn’t listen to her, just thrust Curtis harder against the wall and pushed an arm to his chest as he got right into his face. “You wanna touch my wife, you ask for my permission… in writing, and don’t hold your breath waiting for a response.”
Pushing away, Trick winded Curtis with the power of his shove and backed off a step to throw an arm around her neck, but she shoved at him. “How dare you,” she said, shrugging away from Trick’s arm to go to Curtis. “I’m sorry.”
“He’s an idiot,” Curtis said, his hand flat on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “You deserve better than that, Ly.”
“What the hell would you know?” Trick shouted and she felt his body heat rush against her back. Here she was sandwiched between the two of them. As she tried to soothe Curtis, she pushed herself back into Trick to keep him away from her friend.
“I know you’re going to hurt her!” Curtis said. “You don’t have a clue what you’ve done to her! Not a clue!”
Now Curtis was losing his temper and she was beginning to panic because if they both lost their cool she’d have no way to calm them down. “Curt,” she said. “Don’t!”
“What don’t I know, nerd, huh?” Trick asked and it was getting harder for her to keep any kind of pressure up on her husband because he was just too strong.
“You don’t give her what she needs!” Curt argued.
Lyla didn’t like how he spat the words over her; she didn’t want these men fighting. Why would the only two men in the world she cared about fight like this? They were her friends, why weren’t they acting like it?
Trick’s laugh wasn’t happy. “Oh, and I suppose you do? Is that it? You wanna screw my wife? Do you?”
“Trick!” she said. Shoving back hard, Lyla managed to give herself half a breath of space to spin on the spot to plant her hands on his chest. “Don’t speak to him that way! What the hell has got into you, Nairn?”
His lips squeezed together and she felt the heat of his anger even though his eyes were pinned on the man at her back. The pure hatred in them gave her a chill, but she shoved him once more.
Trick bared his teeth and hissed. “You turn around and walk out that door with me right now, or I put this prick through a wall. Your choice, Malloy.”
“Lyla,” Curtis said behind her, but she wasn’t going to let her friend get hurt.
“Then let’s go,” she said, staring up at Trick, wishing that he’d look at her so she could tell if he really was angry or just playing the appropriate theatrical role. “Baby?”
Whispering the pet name she’d never used before made Trick drop his attention to her, and while the intensity lingered, his anger began to cool. This time when he put his arm around her neck and tugged her against him, Lyla didn’t put up any kind of fight. She wanted to look back to see if Curtis was ok, but Trick was holding her too tight.
The camera crew was just by the door. Great, well they had their footage, and now she understood why Trick had been such a bastard. It was an act. But she was annoyed. For the first time, she actually was irritated by this stupid game. Curtis hadn’t signed any contract, he didn’t have a role to play, he was her friend, and he’d just been hurt because of her fake marriage.
They didn’t speak in the car, not until Trick pulled off the road to park in front of the liquor store. “Just the wine, or do we need—”
“I don’t want wine,” she said and folded her arms.
“You don’t… well I’m here now, why the hell didn’t you say that when you saw me turn down the block?”
It was just fine with her that he was angry because she was too. “Am I supposed to be in your brain?” she asked. “How am I supposed to know what you’re going to do?”
He squeezed his fingers around the wheel and gritted his teeth. “You saw me driving this way, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I saw you driving this way, but I figured, you know, being the insensitive jerk that you are, you’d probably be coming here for something you want. You haven’t been drunk at all this week, so by my reckoning, it’s overdue, right?”
His inhale was long and his grip tightened. “Is this about the kissing on our wedding night or ‘cause I shouted at your pet?”
Offense made her twist to gape at him. “My…? Trick!”
When his gaze landed on hers, she saw that same intensity he’d had when he shouted at Curtis. “We need goddamn blueberries,” he growled.
Neither reacted to his comment, but they both knew what it meant. The car was rigged with cameras and audio recording devices. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. “No,” she said and shook her head. “No, we don’t… Go get your liquor, Trick.”
“Get out of the car, Malloy.”
Leaning closer, she hissed, “We are not going to have an argument in the middle of the street, Nairn.”
“Rather have it in the apartment?”
The apartment that was as rigged as the car he was trying to contain his anger in. Growling aloud, she unclicked her seatbelt and tossed it away to shove out of the vehicle. Trick was already at her side of the car.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her onto the sidewalk, but she yanked her limb away from him. “I don’t need you to pull at me,” she said, shoving him to put some distance between them as they both stalked down the block.
Having the argument where it might be picked up by the recording equipment in the car was dumb, so they had to get away from the vehicle. When they turned the corner, she went another five paces before she stopped.
“You had no right to do that,” she said.
Trick spun on her. “You were messing around! What the hell, Ly! I’m sorry, ok? I know the wedding night was screwed up, but that was back then, before I was honest with you, before we were… us! You went out there after the show tonight and found him to—”
“To what? Did you think I would marry you and refuse to be intimate only to track down my friend and jump him just because you kissed a couple of strangers?”
“Did you?” he asked. “Was that the point? You wanted to make me mad, right? Well you succeeded, baby!”
“Don’t get sarcastic,” she sneered and put her hands out when he tried to approach her again. “And don’t come near me!”
“Why? You didn’t mind him getting up close,” he said. “Is that why you married me? To make him jealous? Well it worked, guess you’ve got him now.”
This side of Trick was the most infuriating. She knew how to deal with his “character” and she could deal with him when he was sulking about something. But when Trick was mad, he was just so difficult and there was nothing reasonable about his arguments.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and couldn’t believe that he’d picked this insignificant thing to get so mad about. “Curtis is my friend, he saw the show, he was worried. He doesn’t… he doesn’t understand.”
Pacing away and back, Trick seemed to be having trouble staying still. “Doesn’t understand what?” Trick asked. “What was he saying to you? Tell me!”
This anger was overwhelming, but there was plenty of space between them, so she didn’t feel threatened despite the strength of his mood. For sure, she was safer with Trick than Curtis had been. “He doesn’t understand what it’s like,” she argued. “And he was looking out for me! We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Isn’t that nice, your best buddy. How come your bestie didn’t even know we were getting married? Huh? Why were you so scared to answer your phone on our wedding day? It was him, right? He was the guy who called you while you were waiting to marry me?”
“Yes,” she said. “And I didn’t tell him because I wasn’t allowed to. I wasn’t as lucky as you, ok? I didn’t have a friend on my side. You had Sadie looking out for you every step of the way. She was always there in your corner. I didn’t have that. So yeah, maybe I have to build some bridges now, but that doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on my friend in anger! I’ve been nothing but respectful to your friends, to Sadie, to your boys, I’ve been polite and understanding and—”
“Too polite!” he screamed and came back towards her. “You know what it was like to walk in on that? That prick was going to kiss you and you were just—”
“Curtis was never going to kiss me! He would never kiss me!”
He scoffed. “Yes, he would. That bastard wants you! He wants to screw you! But you are my wife!”
“And what does that mean, huh?” she asked. “It means nothing! In a few days you’re going to be back in Kira’s bed and all of this will be ridiculous!” Someone had to be rational and for some reason, Trick was having trouble seeing how stupid his anger was. “You hurt my friend. You hurt him and you hurt me… Curtis never signed up for this. He didn’t sign up to be pinned to a wall and yelled at. He didn’t sign up to make great television. So, yeah, well done, you’ll be Bunyan’s favorite again because you know they got all that on film. You blew your top because you knew it would look good on film, and now you’re annoyed that I’m not shrugging it off like I shrug everything else off. You know what, Trick? You can be a jerk to me as much as you like. Shout at me. Pin me to walls. Grope me. Do your worst. But do not hurt the people I care about. Don’t do it again.”
“You’re mad at me?” he asked. “You screw around and think you can—”
Lyla growled at him and threw up her hands. “Oh, Nairn Strickland, you are the most infuriating man! You get the bit in your teeth and you just won’t let it go!”
Storming away down the block, she went past him and kept on walking. “Where are you going? Malloy! Where the hell are you going?” he shouted after her.
Damn him and his mood, if he wanted to be a jerk then she would let him pace and grumble to himself as much as he liked. She was in control of herself and her own actions and she did not have to give him an audience.
“Away from you!” Lyla threw the words over her shoulder. “Go be a jerk somewhere else! Find another woman to act for; I’m not interested in being your audience or encouraging you. When you’re ready to be the nice, calm, reasonable Nairn, you know, the real you who’s decent to me, you give me a call!”
“Malloy!”
But she kept on going and didn’t slow down. They spent so much time together that maybe they needed a night apart. Lyla sure wasn’t going to stand here all night screaming in the street.
When she got to the corner, she glanced around to check for traffic and was surprised to see a figure in her periphery. Turning around, she didn’t expect to see Trick ten feet behind her. “What are you doing?”
“You can be as pissed at me as you like and walk a hundred miles, but I am not leaving you alone in the street at this time of night.”
Where had his anger gone? Why was he staying away from her? “Who would attack me?” she asked looking down at the oversized coat she was wearing over her baggy clothes. She looked more like a bag lady than a primo target for a rapist. “Go away, Trick. I’m not in the mood to look at you. Just go back to your apartment.”
Scanning, she saw no cars and crossed the street to walk down the next block, her apartment was on the other side of town. But it was a nice night, and Lyla decided that she’d walk for as long as she felt like walking and then she could get a cab.
Since she’d moved into Trick’s place, she hadn’t thought about going back to her apartment. But two weeks wasn’t a bad run. She hadn’t expected to settle into living with anyone after living on her own for so long.
On the next corner, she looked for traffic again, and yelped when she saw Trick was still behind her. “I’m not leaving you,” he said without her asking for an explanation.
“And I’m not getting in a car with you,” she said. “Stop following me. Go away. Don’t be creepy, stalker guy. I’m telling you to go away. I’m giving you permission to leave. Go. Go away.” But he was shaking his head. “Nairn—”
“If something happened to you—”
“I don’t have anything worth stealing and a rapist would never get through all the layers I’m wearing,” she said, realizing that they weren’t shouting at each other anymore. Trick began to approach her. “I don’t want you to come over here. I’m mad at you, Nairn.”
But she didn’t move away even when he came up so close that his body moved against hers. Trick ducked to brush his lips over the sensitive spot beneath her ear, just at the back of her jaw.
Oh… when his breath warmed her there, Lyla’s whole body vibrated until her muscles loosened. Grateful that she had his form in front of hers, she exhaled and closed her eyes as she sank against him.
Scooping a hand around the other side of her head, Trick angled her and kissed her in that same place again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“You hurt me,” she said, tipping her head up to meet his eye and he really did look repentant.
The man was a good actor, but he didn’t usually lie to her when they were alone like this, so she believed the contrition in his eyes.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he said and dipped to kiss her forehead. “Let me take you home and get you liquored up… and when you’re nice and loose, I’ll give you a foot rub.”
He made her smile and when she did, so did he. Turning them back the way they’d come, Trick tucked her under his arm and guided her back up the block. Yeah, Lyla was still pissed, but he was doing the brotherly protective thing again and she couldn’t deny that it was sweet enough to sway her.
Whatever the reason for their spat, they couldn’t walk away from each other because they were both contractually bound. Oh yeah, and they were married.