9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Remi
L ife got busy. A month after breaking up with Marina, I was back on the market and living it up. In a perverse way, I was glad it was Marina's fault our relationship ended because it was gonna end sooner than later. I wasn't a one-woman man—and since I didn't believe in cheating, my options were fuck them and forget them. It worked for me.
I'd seen Echo a few times here and there as well. Every time I felt a pull towards her—but this was Poopy Pants, and she wasn't one-night stand material. She was my sister's friend, and my father's protégé, fucking her would be nothing but trouble. So, I kept my distance even though I enjoyed her company. She was smart and funny. After all the boring girls I fucked around with, talking to someone who had more on her brain than the next Taylor Swift concert or some designer bag was a delight.
I'd even had coffee with her once at GeneVerse when I'd gone to see Dad. She was laughing outside her office, talking to her boss. They seemed friendly, and I wondered if she was fucking him. But I didn't think so. Echo was fun, but I doubted the wunderkind Dr. Martin Andersen would find her attractive. He was a successful scientist with a whole lot of degrees after his name and a shit ton of money, according to Dad, because of some patents he owned. My father told me his ex-fiancée was Rebecca Hamilton, who was a smart, beautiful woman. Echo was not in Dr. Andersen's league.
"Remi." Martin held out his hand, and I shook it. "You here to see your father?"
"Yeah and I wanted to see if Echo was free for a cup of coffee."
I didn't know why I did it, but I gave her a quick hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek. I hugged and kissed several women when I greeted them, but never Echo. I had no idea what possessed me to do that, but I liked feeling my lips against her silky skin—loved to see her eyes go wide.
"Lovely. Well, Echo, I'm going to go back to my paper."
Yeah, no, Martin wasn't interested in Echo; otherwise, he'd have had some reaction to my kissing her, albeit on the cheek.
"You have time for coffee?" I asked her.
She looked flustered. "Sure. We can go to the cafeteria."
I spent half an hour with her, talking about her work and telling her about mine. I never talked to a woman as I did Echo. I had friends, but I couldn't tell them I was afraid of failing or the problems I was facing—it seemed easy to do with Echo. She didn't judge. She understood me because she was also plagued with insecurities that she shared with me.
When I left GeneVerse, I hugged her again, like it was a normal thing we did. She leaned into the hug, and I took her scent in. Freesia! She was soft and giving. Her body molded against mine like it fit. There was something about her breasts touching my chest. It was a stupid hug that lasted a few long seconds, but it made me hard.
I didn't see Echo for several weeks after that, which was probably for the best. When she was around, I felt good—light, even. Maybe my ego enjoyed her admiration; she used to have a crush on me, and it seemed like she still did. This made me wary because I didn't want her to get the wrong idea about us, especially since there was no "us." Yet, I also loved how she made me feel as if I were ten feet tall and would stay that way even if I failed.
So, when I saw her at the World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest in Memphis in May, I indulged myself by spending some time with her.
Memphis in May was a month-long cultural event—with highlights being the Beale Street Music Festival, which was damn good for business, the famous barbecue contest, the Great American River Run, and an international cultural salute.
Since I was a barbecue contest judge, I'd dragged my ass to Tom Lee Park. Crowds of people milled about, sampling different barbecue styles, clinking glasses of craft beer, and dancing to the lively tunes of the blues band on stage. The air was filled with the smoky aroma of sizzling meat—and as I walked through the labyrinth of barbecue tents and grills with the Mississippi River glistening in the afternoon sun close by, I bumped into Echo, who was doing her own perusal of the contestants.
She looked adorable, different. I usually saw her at work where she was in a white coat and office clothes, or in unsuitably drab party wear. Today, she wore denim shorts that showed me her very sexy legs—who would've guessed that?—and a white and red floral off-the-shoulder top and a straw hat. She looked Memphis summer chic.
I hugged her when I saw her. "What a surprise?"
She looked taken aback by my exuberant greeting.
"I came for the barbecue, but I stayed for the music," she joked. She put a hand up to angle her hat when her off-the-shoulder top shifted just enough to reveal a glimpse of a tattoo on her upper back.
"Is that a double helix?" This girl was something else because I never imagined she'd have a tattoo. She just didn't seem the type.
"Yeah."
I pulled her blouse down just a little to admire the ink. "What is this DNA strand of?"
She smiled at me. "It's mine."
"Yours?" I leaned in closer to get a better look at the intricate design of the double helix.
"Yep." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "A short sequence from my HLA genes, part of what makes me, well, me."
I grinned, tracing the edge of the tattoo with my fingertip. "You wear your science on yourself—literally."
I didn't miss the shiver that ran through her at my touch. God, she was so responsive. What would she be like when I touched her nipples, her pussy?
"It's a reminder of what I'm fighting for," she said huskily.
We were in the middle of a park, surrounded by people, but as my finger continued to trace her marked skin, I felt like we were in our own little cocoon. I didn't know what was happening, but I'd never felt this surge of electricity at touching someone, this sense of heightened awareness.
Fuck me, I wanted Echo Devlin!
"And what are you fighting for?" I wanted to lick her tattoo.
She swallowed. "To understand how to better combat diseases like cervical cancer and help people live longer healthier lives."
I regarded her for a moment, and she took the opportunity to shift, so I had no choice but to let go of her. "That's an honorable pursuit," I acknowledged.
A blush crept up her cheeks. "Hey, we all have our passions."
I couldn't help it. I cupped her cheek, my eyes boring into hers. She was so fucking unique—I knew no one like Echo. "It's an incredible tattoo."
Before she could answer, I heard someone call my name. I dropped my hand from her as if she had scalded me.
Fuck! I had to pay attention to where I was. The last thing I needed was for someone to see Echo with me and draw the wrong conclusion. I could only imagine my mother and sister's response if they thought I was having a romantic relationship with Echo. She was the help's niece—and even though my mother tolerated Echo cause Dad didn't give her a choice, my having anything to do with her beyond a "Hello, how are you?" would make her head rotate like that kid in The Exorcist .
"Hey, man." Tommy wrapped an arm around me. "Hey, there, Poopy—"
"Cut it out, Tommy." I shrugged his arm off. "Stop calling her names. We ain't in high school no more."
Tommy groaned. "Why is everyone so sensitive?"
"Why are you such an asshole?" I countered.
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Lani said you're a judge at the contest, so the gang decided to come on over."
The gang was Lani, Petal, David, and sigh , Marina. She'd been relentlessly pushing for us to get back together. I was keeping her at an arm's distance.
Echo looked uncomfortable as hell. "Well, I'll be—"
"Ah, here you are." Dr. Martin Andersen sidled next to Echo. "I thought I lost you."
Was she here with him?
"Just ran into some people," Echo said smoothly and went about introducing Martin to the gang.
He'd met Lani before, but none of the others.
"I'm so sorry to hear about you and Becky," Marina said in her I'm-so-available voice.
"You know, Becky?" Martin frowned.
"Oh no, no. I know of her. I have met her socially, obviously ." Marina gave him her thousand-watt smile. She needed to get married sometime this year; Martin was just as good a catch as me, maybe even better.
"Right. Well, nice meeting you." He grabbed Echo's hand, and they linked fingers. "We better head to the stage. The Tedeschi Trucks Band is playing soon. They're Echo's favorite."
Now, I was really amazed. I was a big fan of the band as well. Led by Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks, they blended blues, rock, and soul beautifully. Their electrifying live performances were unforgettable.
"Bye, y'all. Have a great day." Echo all but skipped away, holding Dr. Douchebag's hand.
"Is she dating him?" Marina's eyes were wide as saucers.
"I doubt it," Lani mocked. "He's a doctor and was engaged to Rebecca Hamilton. Don't you think he's out of her reach?"
Lani was supposed to be Echo's friend and the fact that she was attacking her behind her back didn't sit well with me. "Why would you think that?"
"Miss Poopy Pants is just too fat for him," Marina flashed angry eyes at me.
"Cut it out," David admonished. "You say that name again, Marina, and I'm done spendin' time with you."
"What?" Marina stared at him, horrified. "I was just makin' a joke. It wasn't serious."
"It's rude to call her that," Petal retorted. "And she's not fat. Did you see her legs in those shorts? I'd kill for legs like that."
"Fine, whatever." Marina slipped her hand around my bicep and leaned into me. "Should we go taste some barbecue?"
I didn't remove her hand because it would create a scene, and she knew that. As Echo turned to walk away, Marina kissed me. Even as I gently extricated myself from my ex, I saw the hurt look on Echo's face. She had no business letting me see how she felt—or feeling that way in the first place. She was with Dr. Martin Andersen. I could kiss my ex or anyone else. Who the fuck did she think she was to give me those bruised puppy eyes?
Despite my internal protestations, I had to curb my impulse to run after her and explain what she saw. I didn't because no good would come out of it. Echo wasn't part of my social circle, she was just an unsuitable acquaintance, best to let her go on her way.