Page 11 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Monday

Bryce

"Alright, I have a challenge for you," I said.

"Please tell me you finally want to see who can fuck more girls by the end of the week," said Alex, aka Red Wolf.

"No. I was going to challenge you to find me a girl here at the games who's hotter than Alina. I think it's impossible."

"Oh God damn it," said Alex. "Will you please just fuck her and quit talking about it?"

"I think it's romantic how he's so smitten," said Tim, aka Pink Ocelot.

"It's not getting on your nerves at all?"

"Well, maybe a little," admitted Tim.

"Alright. How about you go for a run, and when you come back, we'll pretend like Alina doesn't exist?"

I was going to think of something clever to say, but then I had an idea. I snapped my fingers. "You're a genius, Alex! If I go right now, maybe I'll conveniently bump into Alina as she's leaving volleyball practice." I was only half joking.

Alex shook his head. "I think you totally missed the point of what I just said. Maybe instead you need to go find a nice Brazilian prostitute."

I glanced at my phone to try to ignore Alex.

Somehow he always managed to steer the conversation back to his favorite topic: Brazilian prostitutes.

I'm pretty sure the only reason he trained hard enough to be a part of the ITAs was so he could come to Brazil to find himself a nice prostitute.

He didn't even like running that much. I was hoping to see a text from Alina, but instead I saw I had a missed call from my sister, Emily.

"Be right back," I said, ducking into the hallway to call her back. I leaned against the wall and dialed her number.

"Hey, Bryce!" she said. Despite all we had been through as kids, she always managed to be so positive. It was infectious. But today there was something else in her voice.

"Hey, Em. What's up?"

"Nothing, it's okay now I think." The bubbliness from her voice was suddenly missing entirely.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well when I got back to my dorm today after class I got a weird feeling, like someone had been in here."

"Was the door open or something?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It just felt off. A few things looked like they weren't how I left them. It was like when we used to know Max had been in our room." For a year and a half, Max had been our foster brother. He loved stealing stuff from our room whenever he had the chance.

"Weird. Maybe it was a maintenance guy or something?"

"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, don't worry about it. You need to focus on your race."

"I'm actually having a little trouble with that."

"Is Alex keeping you and Tim up all night by banging poor, sweet Brazilian girls?"

"Surprisingly, no. It's this girl Alina. I can't stop thinking about her."

"Is she some sexy foreign girl?"

"No, she's American," I said.

"Is she cool, or do you just like her boobs?"

"Don't worry, it's not another Michelle situation."

Em made a gagging sound. "Thank God. She was the worst. Just keep in mind that I have to be sisters with whatever girl you end up with. Don't screw me on this."

"I'll try not to. Anyway, I dunno if anything is going to come of it. She's in a relationship or something right now. It's complicated."

"But you like her?"

"Yes."

"Then it's not complicated. Go get her."

I smiled. Em always had a way of making everything seem so simple. "Alright. Thanks for the advice. I wish Tim and Alex could be as sensible as you."

"Let me guess: Alex told you to fuck her and forget about her, and Tim told you to send her a dozen roses and a singing telegram?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Em laughed. "Those two..."

"I wish you'd been able to come," I said. I had tried to think of a way to get her here to watch my race, but it was just too expensive. All the money we had went towards her schooling.

"Me too, but you know I'll be watching from here and cheering you on. Hey, I gotta run to class, but call me soon to tell me how it's going with Alina. I want to hear all about her."

"Will do. Oh yeah, if you have a chance, watch the highlights tonight of the men's gymnastics."

"Why? Oh my God, did you..."

"You'll see."

"I can't wait. Bye, Bryce!"

"Bye, Em. Stay safe."

Click.

I stayed leaning against the wall for a few seconds thinking about what Em had said.

I knew she was tough and could take care of herself, but I still worried about how she thought someone was creeping around in her room.

I tried to think of someone on campus that I could have check in on her, but no one came to mind.

All the people I knew there had already graduated.

Tim poked his head out of our dorm. "Dude, come check this out."

I went back in and walked over to Tim's computer. He had found a BuzzFeed article featuring gifs of Yao Kai splitting his pants. Tim seemed to think the one where someone had photoshopped an image of a kitten in place of Yao Kai's penis was particularly hilarious.

"Who were you talking to?" asked Alex. "Please tell me it wasn't Alina."

"No, it was Em," I said.

"Did you tell her to get a flight here? She can share my bed; I don't mind."

I punched him in the arm. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'll kill you if you ever touch Emily?"

"What if she's the one who comes onto me? I can't help it. Girls just love me."

"Yeah, not gonna happen. How's your search for a Brazilian prostitute coming?"

"Not bad. I picked up some literature the other day..." Alex held up a stack of fliers with half naked women on them.

"You better not bring them back to this room," said Tim. "I don't want to end up in Brazilian prison."

"Yeah, that would be awful," said Alex. "Especially for you, Tim. You'd definitely be the first one to be someone's bitch."

Tim smiled, as if Alex had just given him a compliment. "You know, I've always thought I'd be popular in prison. It's the one place where my baby-smooth skin would come in handy. It's a blessing and a curse..."

Alex and I glanced at each other and tried not to laugh. We still weren't entirely sure if Tim was gay or not. He had a lot of girlfriends, but the things he said were just so freaking gay.

I was about to add a comment about Tim's inability to grow facial hair, but my phone buzzing in my pocket distracted me.

I pulled out my phone and read a text from Alina: "I wonder if they'll ever find the mustachioed Canadian responsible for that heinous crime."

Hmm...how to respond. I started typing out a response: "I don't know, but he sure seems like a real bad ass."

"Was that Alina?" asked Tim.

"Yeah," I said.

"Did you ask her out to dinner?"

"No."

"And you think I'd be the bitch in prison? You can't even ask a girl out."

"Oh snap," said Alex. "Tim's right, you are being kind of a bitch about this girl. You've been talking about her all day and then you don't even ask her out?"

"I was just waiting for her to respond." I added, "Where do you want to go for dinner?" and hit send. "There, I asked where she wanted to go for dinner."

Tim put his hand on his head. "You didn't ask her if she wanted to go first? Chivalry is dead."

"I like it," said Alex. "Way to man up."

"Do you even have proper Brazilian evening dress?" asked Tim. "This is a disaster."

"What is this, Downton Abbey?" asked Alex.

Alina's response popped up on my phone: "Wherever you want. Where should Kristen and I meet you guys?"

Damn. Her inviting Kristen was a pretty clear sign that she didn't want it to be a date. Em's advice ran through my head. It's not complicated. Go get her. "Well, she thinks you guys are coming. And her friend Kristen is coming. Who wants wingman duty?"

"Is Kristen her friend from last night?" asked Tim.

"Hmm...I don't know who you're talking about," I said. I wanted to see if I could trick Tim into saying her codename outside of a mission, a clear breach of spy protocol.

"You know. The tall one with the dark hair."

"Oh, you mean Brunette Gir..."

Tim slapped me. "No! No codenames."

I should have been shocked, but slapping was Tim's go-to move when he got upset. Whenever anyone questioned him about it, he insisted that punching was "too brutish."

"Alright, fine. Yes, Kristen is her friend from last night. Now help me figure out where we should take them. We need somewhere real nice."

"I read about a steakhouse in the city that's simply to die for," said Tim. "I think it's called Carne Duro."

"My Portuguese is a little rusty, but doesn't that translate to Hard Meat?" asked Alex. "As long as we aren't going to a gay strip club, I'm in."

Tim grabbed his phone and brought up his trip advisor app. "Oh, my mistake. It's actually Carne Deliciosa. Carne Duro must have been...never mind. Here, I'll make a reservation." He clicked a few buttons and then said, "Done. Tell the girls we'll meet them at the north village exit at 6:30."