Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(9)
Okay, so stretching and breathing hadn’t managed to solve her unfortunate, but unwaning yearning for one specific Marine boxer. But that’s why vibrators and batteries had been invented.
Nikki continued to clean the same exact spot on the wall, without moving. Kara wondered what her motivation for being in the gym so early was. She could have been searching for a lost earring from the day before. Maybe they were her grandmother’s and very precious.
Kara did her best not to scoff, even in her own head. More like she lost some cheap earring the night before after trying to climb on the lap of some unsuspecting Marine. The men, she gave them credit, all did their best to avoid giving her the wrong idea. But the young trainer-to-be seemed bound and determined to snag a Marine. Any of them. Pickiness was not in her personal dictionary.
“Hey,” Marianne said, running in on a dash. If she were a cartoon character, there would be dust clouds billowing in her wake. “Sorry I’m late. Brad slept over, which he doesn’t always do, especially not when I’ve got to get here early, and before I could get out of bed he—”
“Hey, Marianne!” Kara said loudly. “Look who’s here early! Nikki!”
Marianne froze midstep, then looked around wildly. Her ice blond hair swirled around her shoulders, not yet pulled up in its typical ponytail. “Wha . . . oh. Nikki . . . what are you doing here so early?”
“Cleaning,” came the curt reply. The woman turned and tossed the rag in a bin. “Why is that so weird?”
“It’s weird because—never mind.” Marianne cut herself off and let her tote bag drop on her desk chair beside Kara’s. “We’ve got an hour or so before you need to be back. Why don’t you go grab a donut and coffee at the Dunkin’ Donuts on Mainside.”
“I don’t want a donut,” she said, sounding to Kara like a snotty brat.
“Let’s try this again.” With a deep breath, and the patience of a saint, Marianne calmly said, “I want some privacy in my training room for the moment. You need to head out for a while. You can come back at your regularly scheduled time.”
“You’ve let Levi come in early before,” she said, looking a little hurt. Kara tried to feel some form of sympathy, but the young woman made it difficult.
“I’ve asked Levi to come in for a specific project where I needed an extra pair of hands. Right now, I’m about to have a meeting in my office, in which I need privacy. You’re excused,” she snapped when Nikki opened her mouth again, likely to argue. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
Nikki flounced, yes, flounced, out the door, grabbing her knockoff designer purse from the hook behind the door before she left. The door slammed shut behind her.
“God, she’s insufferable. How the hell have you not sent her back yet?”
“She’s twenty-one. We were all insufferable then. Well, maybe not you,” she conceded when Kara raised a brow. “But you had a three-year-old. Hard to be insufferable when you’re responsible for another human life. She’s immature. She’ll either grow out of it, or life will slap her back hard. She’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe slapping her now is the answer.” Kara grinned as Marianne handed her a muffin from the basket. “I mean, metaphorically.”
“Of course you do,” Marianne said, then took a bite of her own muffin. “You’re not in a very Zen place today. What’s going on with you?”
“I nearly kissed Graham.” Picking at the paper from the muffin, she didn’t look up. She believed in honesty, especially with those closest to you. But she also believed you didn’t have to make it harder on yourself than necessary. Right now, staring at her muffin made it easier. “The night you came over for the EpiPen demo. You left, he stayed, and . . .”
Marianne said nothing, and Kara felt an odd need to fill in the silence.
“It’s not my fault. He’s just standing there so, so . . . male. And caring, and he seems to really like Zach, and he’s, you know, well, he looks like how he looks and . . .” The muffin crumbled on top of the exam bench, and Kara knew Marianne was listening intently, if she didn’t scold for the crumbs on her pristine work space. “I don’t know.”
“First off . . .” When Marianne didn’t continue, Kara finally looked up cautiously. Her friend’s face was serious. “First off, crumbs.”
Kara grinned. She couldn’t help it.
“Secondly, hell yeah, you should have kissed him. What stopped you?”
“A call from Matt’s mother. Matt was the friend Zach was staying with.” When Marianne nodded in understanding, she added, “He was fine. Just a question on snack food. But it definitely derailed the whole thing. And thank God,” she added, wondering why her friend wasn’t equally shocked by the entire ordeal. The silence meeting that statement was deafening. “Because it would have been a disaster.”
“You forgot how to kiss?” Marianne smiled. “It’s pretty easy. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to spend an hour or three practicing with you.”
Kara held up a piece of muffin over the edge of the table, just waiting for a good reason to drop it on her friend’s pristine floor.
“Okay, okay! Put the muffin down. Asshole.”
“Jerkface,” Kara shot back, very maturely, from the ease of long friendship.