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When the door shut, Isabela turned immediately in Fenris's arms, kissing him soundly. Carver tried to ignore it, eyes averted and on the slim waist his own hands held gently. Merrill grinned at him, and he felt himself blushing. He'd always had a bit of a crush on her, despite his relationship with Peaches. The noises to his right grew louder, and in his peripheral vision, he saw Fenris lift Isabela up against the wall.
"Uh…"
"Do you want to go downstairs?" Merrill asked. "Oh, not to the strip club. I meant to my lab. If you wanted."
"Sure," Carver said, somewhat hesitantly.
She slipped from his lap and took his hands. "Night, Isabela!"
Isabela with her tongue down Fenris's throat merely waved. Merrill grinned and shut the door as they stepped into the hall. She slipped her hand into Carver's, and he felt it small and delicate. Her fingers were long, the nails painted blood red with black and white smiley faces on them. He liked that, liked how her makeup was always tasteful, how her short black hair always seemed messy. She was unlike Peaches in every way. Peaches with her tanned skin, long blonde hair and makeup that was always a touch too thick. Merrill was feminine without being overly so, and she only ever dressed up when Isabela had her try on new outfits.
She tugged him down to the basement. He'd only ever been in there a handful of times, and never alone with her. He surveyed the lab, glad when they moved past it to the large computer desk. He marveled at the monitors, wondering how she kept it all straight. He could barely work all the functions on his phone. But then, it wasn't his job to know computers and technology, just to hit people.
"I'll make us a snack!" Merrill said enthusiastically.
"Uh. Sure. Wouldn't you rather be… you know. Upstairs?"
"What? Oh, no. I don't think so. I'm not fond of Fenris in… in that way," she said, almost sounding apologetic. "Best let them have their privacy."
Carver knew that Merrill sometimes went to bed with Isabela, mostly because Isabela never shut up about her conquests. Garrett had indulged but now he was taken, apparently. And he, Carver, would have gone a round – maybe not with Fenris there, but with Isabela and Merrill both, he wouldn't have said no.
Maybe.
Peaches was like an anchor around his neck. He liked her, liked what she did for him both in bed and out. But maybe his mother was right. She wasn't very classy. She never liked to talk about the things Merrill did. Carver listened to prattling about reality TV and the latest celebrity gossip because that's what Peaches liked. But Merrill talked with him. They discussed everything from the latest satellite technology to cars to cartoons from their childhood. He felt at ease with her friendship, even if she did make him nervous and caused him to stammer sometimes with her flirting.
He settled on the bed and waited until she came back with a pile of tortilla chips covered in cheese and salsa. Handing him the plate, she bounced onto the bed next to him and fished a remote control from the sheets, flicking until one of the monitors changed to a movie. Carver recognized it as one of Merrill's favorites, an adventure story with sweeping space battles and a happy ending. She settled against him, and he hesitated before wrapping his arm around her.
"Is this okay?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Yeah," he said at once. "Yeah, sure."
She grinned and took a chip from the plate in his lap. "I love this movie."
"I know."
And as the opening credits rolled, Merrill humming along with the soundtrack, Carver knew he would have to call Peaches tomorrow and break it off. It wasn't fair to her that his heart longed for another. Even if Merrill didn't agree to be his – and he thought… hoped… wished she would. Because, he thought, there was no place he'd rather be than here with her, watching a movie and eating nachos.