“Julian, I’d like you to meet John,” she says.
He doesn’t release her. His hands slide down to her ass.
“Hey!” She shoves him away.
“Did I not squeeze hard enough?”
I start to move in closer to them.
“You need to leave, Julian,” Olivia says, sounding really upset.
“You need to respond to my texts. Don’t you think?” He is belligerent.
I step between them and get up in his face. “I don’t think Olivia needs to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
The limo driver steps out of the car and asks if I need help. The doorman pokes his head out.
“Let’s just go in, John,” Olivia mutters.
I stay in Julian’s face while holding up a hand to let her and the doorman and the driver know that I’m good here. I am only a couple of inches taller than Julian Bartlett is, but I stare him down hard.
“Who the fuck are you?” Julian says.
What a great question.
“I’m Olivia’s boyfriend.” I position my feet and hips in the best Bruce Lee stance I can manage and raise my hand up one inch from his pretentious face, keeping my wrist straight. “And I’m the nerd who’s going to calmly explain exactly what’s going to happen to the bridge of your nose if and when my fist hits it. You ready?”
He blinks and doesn’t move. It’s an arrogant blink. His eyelashes are so fucking arrogant.
I continue. “Because of the highly developed supplementary motor cortex part of my brain, which handles the coordination of the muscles in my limbs, and because the shortest distance between two objects is a straight line, the kinetic energy that will be transferred from my fist to your face imparts undissipated shock energy. You’re a trained dancer—surely you understand kinematic chains?”
Blank stare.
“No? Would you like me to explain it to you? Because when I’m done explaining why I’ll be punching you with more than just the velocity and force of my fist, I am going to actually do it, because I’m already sick of looking at your shitty arrogant face, and I am really, really pissed that you just treated my girl that way, you unsophisticated, moronic dick.”
One more blink, and he steps back, his shoulders slumping. He holds his hands up in surrender. I remain in the same stance.
“Sorry, O. Just pissed that you didn’t want to see me, but whatever.”
She nods at him and then reaches for me. I lower my fist.
“Would you like me to have my driver drop you off at home?” I offer.
He shakes his head and walks off. “Fuck you, nerd.”
“Guess not,” I mutter. I salute the limo driver. “Enjoy the rest of your night, sir.”
Olivia doesn’t say anything until we get into the elevator. Finally, she turns to me and says, “Okay, three things: I am so sorry that happened. I’m so embarrassed that he was acting like that—please believe me when I tell you that he’s never been like that before. Also, what you did was so badass, I apologize forevermaking fun of you and my brother.”
“For everything,” I ask, “or just the way we protected you from other guys?”
“Just that. I have no regrets about making fun of you for anything else.”
“That’s three? Those are the three things you wanted to say?”
“Yes. Those are the three,” she says.
“Okay, three things: You don’t have to apologize for that happening, and you definitely shouldn’t be embarrassed about his behavior.”
