Protein Shake

by Alexis Angel

  I lay into the bag with a particularly vengeful sequence when a shadow catches me off guard and I stop, turning.

  Tristan is standing there putting on his boxing gloves, pure rage radiating off his face.

  Damn.

  He usually plays it pretty cool. But right now he looks like he could kill someone.

  Me.

  “What do you want, Tristan? I’m trying to get in a workout.”

  His voice comes out low, barely contained. “I think you’d rather me burn off my anger on the bag than on your pretty-boy face.”

  I laugh, not in the mood for his shit. “Fuck you.”

  Tristan comes around to the other side of the bag. “No, fuck you, Madden. I saw a video of you and Megan in the limo.”

  My eyes narrow. Looks like we both got treated to an eyeful. He doesn’t look any better off for it than I am.

  “You know what, Tristan? You need to just quit now while you’re ahead and leave the house.”

  He scoffs. “Wouldn’t you love that? You actually expect me to make it that easy for you? Just step aside and let you win? You’re an idiot.”

  I shrug. “You’re going to lose anyway. Go now and at least you can save face.”

  Tristan bristles visibly, and when he speaks, his voice is murderous. “I’m not playing a game, Madden.”

  “Neither am I.”

  He laughs humorlessly. “Bullshit. You’re nothing but a player. Always playing a game. Everything is a fucking game to you. You don’t take anything seriously.”

  His shoulders tense, his jaw clenching, and I realize my posture is much the same. We’re practically facing off.

  “You think you’re so perfect, don’t you, Tristan? The golden boy. Well let me tell you something,” I say, “your little act doesn’t work with me. It might work in business. You may convince your clients that you’re this caring guy that has their best interests at heart. But I see right through you. Every deal you make, it’s all about you.”

  Tristan narrows his eyes at me. “You can’t take a fucking thing seriously. It’s a wonder you haven’t gone out of business yet. I don’t know how you still manage to get clients at this point because everyone knows you’re unreliable. It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? Life is just one big fucking party, even when some things need to be taken seriously. Treated more carefully.”

  This asshole has a lot of nerve acting like he’s so much better than me. So high and mighty. “Seriously, dude? Like you run this perfect business? Like you haven’t fucked plenty of people over too? You’re full of shit, Tristan. You’re only in it for yourself. Always looking out for number one. What’s in your best interest.”

  I sneer at him, wishing he’d just get the fuck out and let me finish my workout without his arrogant ass in my way.

  “You’re all about what’s good for you, Madden. Don’t act like your motivations are pure. They’re as dirty as they get.”

  Is that what he thinks? Because we both know we aren’t really talking about business here. It’s a very thinly veiled conversation about Megan.

  I step toward him, hands twitching at my sides, desperate to lay into him for having his hands and mouth all over her yesterday. “You have no clue what my motivations are.”

  And that’s the straight up truth. He has no idea how I feel about Megan. Yeah, maybe I’ve been a player. Maybe I don’t usually take heed with women. But he’s so far off the mark on this one it’s not even funny.

  He steps up, tilting his chin up and looking down his fucking nose at me. “It doesn’t take a genius to guess.”

  “Then I guess you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. Walk away, Tristan.”

  “Fuck no. I’m not walking away from this.” He clenches his teeth. “She’s mine, Madden. Don’t fuck with me.”

  “Oh, you mean fuck with you like telling you how good it felt to have my face buried in between her legs, my tongue so deep in her sweet pussy that I—”

  The right hook comes out of nowhere, sending me stumbling back a couple steps before I realize what’s happened.

  “Motherfucker,” I growl, regaining my footing and coming back at him, fists swinging.

  I get in a couple good ones, clocking him in the temple and in the side, but he’s lean and lithe, and he gets just as many in on me. We’re pretty evenly matched, but if he wants to do this, I’m game.

  “Bring it, asshole.”

  I block his next jab and knock his head back with a blow to the chin, then he’s sweeping his foot under my legs and we both go down, fists flying.

  It doesn’t last much longer before Maya and a few other crew members come storming into the gym, breaking it up.

  It takes several people to hold us back from each other, and we stare each other down, eyes blazing with anger.

  Fuck. What is this house doing to us? Tristan may be my biggest competitor, my quasi-enemy of sorts in business and in life, but he’s also pretty much my best friend. We’ve known each other forever. Been through it all.

  Except for this. Is this how it’s going to end? Over a girl?

  But even as I wonder over it, I can’t help thinking that when it comes to Megan, she’d be worth it.

  Tristan

  Sitting at the island in the kitchen, I readjust the ice pack on my knuckles. I didn’t even have my gloves completely on when I lunged. I tossed them aside, going at Madden with my bare fists.

  I may regret that because they hurt like a bitch.

  Maya strides in, hands on her hips. “What happened?”

  I just stare at her. I’m really not in the mood for her shit right now. At this point, I wouldn’t mind if she took her happy little ass out of this apartment and never came back. That’s how sick I am of all the meddling going on in this game. That tablet video shit being the final straw.

  I almost snort. Because to think, I signed up for this voluntarily. Despite everything that’s happened, though, I’d do it all again just to meet Megan.

  “Say something, Tristan,” Maya pushes. “I know something had to have happened to start this fight. You’ve had all day to cool off, and now all of a sudden you and Madden are duking it out in the gym?”

  I continue staring daggers at her. She has some nerve wanting me to get into this with her. Especially when this is all their fault with sending that fucking tablet to my room.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” she says, her eyebrows furrowing.

  Next thing I know, she’s walking up to me and snatching off my mic pack.

  “What are you doing?” That’s breaking a huge rule. One of the biggest offenses a contestant can commit is removing the mic. “Are you trying to get me kicked out?”

  “Shh.” Maya screws up her face and glances surreptitiously at the cameras placed around the room, making some weird shape with her fingers that looks like she’s throwing gang signs. “Okay, we’re clear. We have five minutes. No mics. No cameras. Now get talking.”

  I stare. What the fuck is she talking about? “Maya, there are cameras everywhere. Now give me my mic back before you get me evicted.”

  “The head camera guy has a crush on me. It’s fine.”

  “And… you’re coming to me for dating advice? Sorry, Maya, but you aren’t making any sense. And honestly, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. So, if you’ll leave me alone now, I’d like to get back to my pity party for one.”

  She grunts and rolls her eyes. “I mean that I bought us five minutes of time off-camera. They guy with the crush? He’s shutting them off. Well, he already did. And now we’re down to four minutes because of your idiotic commentary. So I’ll ask you one more time. What happened that started that fight?”

  I can feel the muscle in my jaw jumping, and my fists clench again, almost of their own volition.

  “That bad?” she asks, frowning.

  I nod, thinking about the everything-but-actual-sex sex I witnessed between Megan and Madden, and I almost want to hunt him down again and finish what I starte
d.

  “About an hour ago, some assistant came to my room and brought me that tablet. I wasn’t going to watch it at first.” Ha, who am I kidding? There’s no way I could have ignored that tablet—it was practically begging to be viewed. “But obviously I did watch it.”

  Now she looks even more confused. “What tablet?”

  I scoff and shake my head. “The tablet, Maya. You know, the one with the limo fuckfest starring Megan and Madden?”

  She gasps. “What? Are you kidding me right now?”

  I look at her funny. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” I hold my swollen fists up before icing them again.

  “You’re telling me that someone brought a tablet to your room, and it was a video of Megan and Madden having sex?” She looks baffled. Is it possible she didn’t know about this?

  “No,” I say slowly. “Not having sex.” Thank fuck. “Well, not exactly. Everything but,” I add with a grimace.

  “What did this guy look like?”

  I describe him as best as I can, but honestly, that was the least of my concerns today.

  “Dammit.” She actually stomps her foot. “That’s one of my boss’s personal assistants. He set this up.”

  “What’s it matter, though, Maya? Whether I saw the video or not, it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. They did those things.” Only hours after Megan and I.

  “I bet Madden got one, too,” she muses, still caught up in the puzzle she’s putting together.

  “Based on the way he was tearing into that bag when I arrived in the gym, I’d say the chances are good. He was almost as upset over it as I was.” If not just as upset. Something I’ll have to think about later. When I’m not still ready to murder him for touching Megan.

  That gets her attention. “What did you say?”

  My eyebrows furrow. “That we were both upset over it?”

  “Yeah.” She steps closer, looking me in the eye. “Just tell me one thing, Tristan.”

  I shrug, and she takes that as a yes.

  “Do you really care about Megan? Like honestly and truly care about her?”

  I sigh, running my hands through my hair. What’s the point in denying it? I’ll tell Megan soon enough. As soon as she doesn’t think it’s just a ploy to get her to sleep with me or to choose me over Madden.

  “Yeah,” I say finally. “I do. I really do care about her.”

  The way she smiles is like I just told her she won the fucking lottery or something. “What am I missing here?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, pointing up. “Sorry, five minutes are up.” Tossing me my mic pack, Maya heads toward the stairs leading to Megan’s room. Where Megan’s been camped out all day. I haven’t seen her since the flight.

  “What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously.

  She gives me a wink. “Saving your ass.”

  Megan

  I wince with every blow, my body jerking. I want to look away from the scene unfolding on my flat screen in my bedroom, but my eyes are glued to the footage of Tristan and Madden fighting like they’re going for the Sugar Ray Robinson Award.

  I can’t believe it. The things they’re saying sound like they’re arguing about business, but it’s obvious they’re fighting about me. I don’t know what to think about it or how I feel.

  Other than horrified that the two men I might be starting to care about are taking each other out in the gym. I know it’s not a live feed, so there’s no point in going to break it up. But I can hardly stand it.

  Maya bursts through my door without so much as a knock, takes one look at my face, and hauls me up off the bed and into the bathroom behind her, shutting and locking the door.

  I sigh. Obviously she wants to talk in secret again.

  “Don’t you think you’re going to get in trouble if you keep coming in here and talking to me like this?” I ask.

  Maya shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “That’s not what’s important right now.”

  I stare at her, incredulous. “Seriously? It’s your job.”

  She shakes her head. “Look, do you know why they were fighting?”

  I purse my lips and don’t say anything. What’s the point? She’s just going to tell me anyway.

  She doesn’t disappoint. “They were fighting over you, Megan.” Maya stands there with her hands on her hips, looking at me expectantly.

  Throwing my hands up, I pace around the bathroom. “What do you want me to say? That I’m swooning over the fact that two hot men are fighting over me? Or that I’m disgusted by their caveman behavior?”

  “You tell me.” She continues to watch me.

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, I stop in front of her. “Fine. I will. I’m really fucking upset, Maya. I don’t want them fighting over me. Not like this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  She scoffs a little. “Haven’t you ever seen a reality show? People always get hurt. It’s good TV.”

  I glare at her. Not what I want to hear right now. “What happened, Maya? Why were they fighting over me? Things have been fine all day.” At least as far as I could tell. I’ve stayed up in my room, and things have been quiet in the house. Why did they start tearing into each other all of a sudden?

  Thinking back to the footage I was watching, I remember that they were both radiating with anger at the beginning.

  Maya looks around, not quite meeting my eyes for a minute, then sighs. “Look, Megan, you just need to worry about yourself.”

  What is that supposed to mean? How can I just worry about myself when I already feel like I’m getting in too deep? And now it’s coming to blows. Literally.

  “What are you thinking?” Maya continues. “Be honest with me.”

  I tilt my head back and stare up at the ceiling for a minute. “I don’t like it. I don’t want them fighting like this. I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” I repeat, though this time I’m not sure if I mean physically, or something else. “What do you think about all this? And don’t tell me it’s good TV. That’s what your boss thinks. I want to know what you think.”

  She meets my eyes, and hers look regretful. “I think this whole show was a bad idea from the start. I mean, it’s bound to end badly, right? The last season didn’t end how the producers thought it would. I think that’s why the studio is so determined to make this one go the way they want. ‘Fucking and fighting’ and all that.” She rolls her eyes. “Not my words,” she clarifies.

  Her words make me nervous, though. “What do you mean, ‘it will end badly?’ How?”

  Maya leans against the bathroom counter, watching me as she speaks. “I just don’t think there are going to be any winners. Not any real winners, anyway. Someone is going to get hurt—maybe everyone.”

  There it is again. Someone getting hurt. Now she’s saying it, and I definitely don’t think she’s talking about the fight now.

  She pushes off the counter and gives me a hug. “Be careful, Megan. Remember why you’re here.” She hesitates, like she has something else to say.

  “What else?”

  Another sigh. “Tristan cares about you, Megan. I know he does. Like truly cares. It’s possible that Madden does too. I’m not positive, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  I take a minute to process that statement, not sure how I feel about it. Because I feel like I’m starting to care for them too. Both of them. And I have to choose.

  My heart squeezes in my chest. So this is the real problem. If they truly care about me, someone will get hurt in the end. I don’t want to hurt either of them. But how can I not? I have to pick one of them.

  Maya turns to leave, but looks back at me before she opens the door. “Just remember one thing.”

  “What?”

  “There are no guarantees when the camera stops. What I know—or think I know—about how they feel might not be real after all. That’s why I’m telling you, Megan, watch out for yourself. I don’t want you to be the one leaving here with a broken heart.”

  She leaves the room, and I think
about what she said. Are their feelings real? Are mine? It’s so hard to know because we’re caught up in such a crazy situation. But one thing is certain. The way they both made me feel when we went on our dates was incredible. Something more exciting than I’ve ever felt in my whole life. And I want more of that. More of them. I’ll have to be careful, that much is clear. It’s a fine line to walk if I still want to win this game.

  But maybe, if I’m careful, I can have my cake and eat it too. I smile and head toward the door, ready to make an appearance downstairs for the first time since we got back. First thing on the agenda—I need to set these boys straight.

  Megan

  Standing in the kitchen with Tristan and Madden, I try to balance my conflicting feelings. I need to make it clear how I feel about this ridiculous fighting. But I also can’t help feeling all kinds of turned on by the hungry way they’re both looking at me.

  Okay, so maybe I should have put on something that wasn’t quite as revealing as my tiny tight lil dress, but so what?

  Tristan sits at the island, watching me silently as he alternates icing his knuckles. Madden leans up against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, also watching me as I walk around the kitchen, trying to make it clear how upsetting their fight was.

  But they’re really fucking distracting, both of them still without their shirts. How’s a girl supposed to think straight when two insanely sexy men are half naked in front of her? And both of them clearly want me as much as I want them. The tension in this room is out of control.

  Some of it from the obvious irritation I’m feeling. But the sexual energy is just as evident. I’m sure they feel it as much as I do.

  Madden breaks the silence first. “Megan, don’t be mad, baby.” He gives me one of his trademark charming grins, the one with the dimples that always gets me. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he does that, but I put forth the effort. It’s important that they know I won’t stand for their shit.

  I shake my head and hold up my hand. “Don’t, Madden. Don’t even try.”

  “Hey,” he says, “I’m sorry. But I can’t help it. What do you want me to say? That I don’t care that Tristan had his hands all over you? That I’m cool with it? Because if you want me to be honest, I don’t know if I can say that.”