I lift the bar over my head and drop it in the bench hooks. Sitting up, I grab my towel from the foot of the bench and wipe the sweat from my face. “What’s it gonna take for you to let this go?”
He sets the dumbbells down and takes a seat on a metal folding chair. “My sister waking up and telling me the truth.”
I don’t see that happening anytime soon, but I don’t tell him that. “Well, then I guess we keep hoping for the best.”
“Enough of this. I’ll deal with my bullshit and you deal with yours. Besides, you’ve got enough on your plate with Scar and Crew. So tell me, if it comes down to kicking his ass, would you do it?”
“You’re a damn idiot.” I chuck my sweaty towel at him, but he dodges left and it misses him.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs has Neo standing. “Looks like that time might be now. Later, fucker.” He snatches my towel off the floor and throws it back at me. I catch it in midair, just as Crew shows his face.
“Ready to deal with this shit?” He grabs the chair Neo was in and spins it around, then drops in it, straddling the backrest.
“Yeah. Let’s lay it all out there. I’ll start.” I take a seat on the bench, the towel hanging from my hand between my legs. He nods for me to go ahead, so I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere. If Scar wants anything from me, I’ll be there waiting for her.”
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “All right. And I’ll tell you that I’m not going anywhere either.”
“Then I guess we got that out of the way. Now, what does Scar want?”
He takes in an audible breath, head dropped back as he stares blankly at the ceiling. When his eyes come back down, he says, “She said she won’t choose. That she can’t, and if she’s forced to, she’ll have to choose neither of us.”
I anticipated that. Her choosing neither of us has always been an option that weighed heavily on my mind. “So what are we gonna do?”
His shoulders rise, then fall. “May the best man win.” He pushes the chair forward, dropping his feet to the floor.
I jump onto my feet, too. “This isn’t a fucking football game, Crew. This is Scar we’re talking about.”
“Says the guy who’s worried he’ll lose.”
“No! Fuck no! I’m not competing with you for her. You’re still my boy.”
“Then let her go.”
“Also, no!”
Crew tosses his hands in the air, huffing and puffing. “Then what the fuck do you want, Jagger?”
“Her. Same as you. We both want her.”
“Are you suggesting we share?”
“Do I like it? No. But we’ve shared before, and it’s never gotten in the way. This time, it’s just more than a body, a heart is involved, too.”
“You’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Maybe I have. She makes me crazy and irrational, and it’s exactly why I’ll do whatever it takes to have her.”
“Look,” he says, tone serious, “you do what you need to do and I’ll do what I need to do. In the end, she’ll make the best choice for herself.”
I’m not sure what he’s saying, but if he’s giving me permission to pursue her, I’ll take it. Not that I need it.
“And you won’t try and get in my way or make her feel like shit for her choices?”
"I won't interfere as long as you don’t try and fuck up what I have going with her. If that happens, I’ll do more than get in your way. I’ll toss your sorry assoutof the way.”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t wanna come between you two.”
“Good,” he deadpans, “let’s keep it that way.” He stalks off, fuming, and while it wasn’t the exit I wanted him to make, at least we’ve got an understanding. It’s a start and that’s more than we had before coming down to this basement.