Christmas with my Three Best Friends (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Chapter 1

1

Shay

" G ood morning, Ms. Taylor," Alice, our receptionist, drones from her post behind the massive black desk. Her gaze remains fixed on her screen, her indifference as clear as the morning sun.

Alice's approach to work could best be described as a mix of habitual tardiness and a vibrant 'I'd rather be anywhere but here' vibe. I've often considered letting her go, but there's this stubborn hope in me that she'll ignite some hidden spark of enthusiasm. As a woman in business, I'm committed to uplifting other women, nurturing their potential. Yet, there's a line – a fine one, admittedly – between supporting growth and enabling unprofessionalism. And Alice, bless her, is doing a high-wire act on that very line.

“Good morning, Alice. How’s the day?” I ask, injecting a bit of cheer into my voice.

“Pretty busy,” she replies, monotonously.

As I move past the reception, I glance through the gym. Two years of operation, and each day has been a step in an incredible journey. Competing against the behemoths of Seattle's fitness industry, we've banked on our community-focused ethos to lure clients from the impersonal giants. Richard's investment in top-tier equipment has been a cornerstone of our strategy to provide a holistic fitness experience.

Observing the bustling activity, a sense of pride swells within me. The gym, bustling more than usual, mirrors a broader theme of growth in my life.

Rewind two years, and you'd find a different me - the jovial, 'chubby' girl, smart yet often sidelined, pretty but not quite special. I was grappling with an internal void, filling it with food and frustration over things beyond my grasp. But it's been a journey of intense self-discovery and transformation. Now, every mirror reflects a version of me that's almost unrecognizable – a confident, self-assured woman where a shadow of doubt once stood.

It’s been a while, and it’s only gotten better. The minute I learned to use my time as a single woman in order to love myself the way I wish to be loved everything changed. Everything. My perception of myself. The way in which I presented everything I am to the world.

My confidence exuded, and heads started turning. Doors began to open.

And now, I walk into my own business with a soft smile and a kick in my step, coffee in one hand and purse over my shoulder. Jeans that hug my generous hips and muscular buttocks, a white shirt that’s just enough see-through to give a hint of the white lace bra underneath, and gold bangle bracelets jingling around my wrists while my low heels click across the marble.

“I like the look of this place,” I mutter and turn to see my business partners coming out of Richard’s office. “Hey, guys!” I cheer up, shining inwardly whenever we meet. “What a good day, huh? Plenty of customers, and the holidays are around the corner! What more can a girl ask for?”

There are four of us behind West Key Gym. Richard Adami, my mentor and our chief financial officer, the man with the cash. Jax Tucker, my kickboxing coach and our head martial arts trainer. And Marius Zlatan, my personal trainer and one of the best fitness practitioners I’ve ever had the fortune to work with. I’m the fourth, the ugly duckling turned swan who is now coaching other men and women to follow a journey similar to mine, focusing on smart nutrition and self-love. Frankly, the four of us becoming friends at the previous gym we used to attend was pretty much the perfect storm for a partnership like ours to come to fruition.

We’re best friends and allies, comrades in arms and, downright unbeatable.

We’re not invincible, however, and our gym project is still young, still growing, still in need of improvement here and there. It’s a difficult journey, but I love every second of it. I’m determined to see us get farther ahead, to prove to the world that fitness isn’t just a way of life, it’s a whole bloody ethos that stands at the very core of great health and longevity. Yet something doesn’t sit right with me at this particular moment.

“Guys?” I ask, noticing Marius, Jax, and Richard simply staring at me. Mute. Speechless. Wide eyed. It’s not like them. They’re usually jolly and with an endless supply of quips.

It’s a little weird. Alice isn’t aware of the dynamic, she’s too busy scrolling through her social media. Luckily, a couple of clients come in, prompting her to set the phone aside so she can scan their cards and give them the appropriate locker keys.

Marius’s dark brown eyes are huge, sparkling and smoldering at the same time, and I’m pretty sure he’s blushing. I can’t always tell, given his olive complexion. The black curls hanging over his forehead cast shadows that further confuse me, but I know something happened. Something is different. Jax, too. His blue eyes twinkle, the corner of his mouth twitching, tempted to smile as he runs a hand through his short blonde hair. Richard, on the other hand, my red-haired, green-eyed Viking, is broadly grinning as he takes a first step in my direction.

“Good morning, Shay,” he says. “How’s your weekend looking? We should meet up.”

“You never wanna go out on a weekend,” I mutter. “There is definitely something wrong here. Guys, come on, what is it?”

The silence that settles between us is thick and heavy. It’s making my heart beat faster, and not in a good way. Granted, these gorgeous partners of mine make my heart beat faster on a daily basis, so I should’ve gotten used to it by now. But something is definitely happening, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. The hairs on the back of my neck prick stiffly as I give Jax another look. He’s like a tiger waiting to pounce on me. Marius looks away, but only for a second. His gaze is drawn to me, and it’s making my skin tingle.

I’ve always had a thing for them. A dirty little fantasy in the back of my head involving each and all three of them. What’s not to want, honestly? Built like soldiers, broad-shouldered and muscular, hyper-athletic and with plenty of charm and stamina… I’d be blind and a moron if I didn’t get a little hot under the collar near them. We’ve always kept things strictly business, though. They’ve been by my side for a while, my fiercest supporters and closest friends aside from Cassandra. It’s unlike them to act so… out of character.

“No, but seriously, I’m going to ask again, what’s wrong?” I manage, getting genuinely worried. “Did I say something? Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not sure if wrong is the right word,” Jax mutters, crossing his arms.

“Okay, now I’m getting pissed,” I shoot back. “What’s up? Spill.”

Richard chuckles softly while Marius lowers his gaze again. “I think you should start today at your own pace, then. Go into your office, enjoy your morning coffee… check your emails,” Richard says, and it draws a dry laugh from Jax.

Crap, even Marius is smiling. They keep exchanging glances and holding back from me. It only amplifies my swelling anxiety—not to mention the hidden layer of arousal that’s permanently bubbling underneath, but I’m clearly not going to get an answer from them.

“Fine,” I sigh and pass the reception desk. “Alice, be a darling and forward any new customer calls to me,” I tell her. “It’s my turn today.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Taylor.”

I walk past Marius, Jax, and Richard, feeling their eyes on me in a manner that’s got my senses twirling and my nerves stretching beyond their limits. This isn’t how I imagined I’d be starting the week, yet it is precisely what I must contend with, for some reason.

“See you guys later, then,” I say and dive right into my office. Once I’m in my sacred space, I give myself a minute to just breathe.

A couple of years ago, I was fresh out of college and still trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Crossing paths with Marius was the first of life’s gifts. My heart was broken, and I was doubting my own reality in the wake of a failed relationship when he took me on as his client. He was working at another gym at the time. I still smile as I remember our first sessions. I was so slow and clumsy.

Then Richard came along with his business mind and oodles of ambition. I had so much to learn from the guy. Heck, I’m still learning. When Jax joined our pack, things at that gym were already starting to go sideways. By the time we decided to go into business together, they had seen me at my worst, they had supported me through my weight loss journey, and they had been my rocks, every step of the way. Working together simply made sense.

I glance out the window, admiring the Seattle skyline in broad daylight—glistening skyscrapers and busy roads under a blue sky with barely a tuft of white cloud. Autumns are usually gloomier and wetter in the Pacific Northwest, but I welcome the sunny mornings and never miss the rain. I work better when it’s dry and warm outside. Throw in a bit of sunshine, and I’m the frickin’ Energizer Bunny.

Once I feel ready, I take a seat behind my desk and open my laptop. The guys said I should check my email, so I do just that, my pulse racing as I find… nothing.

“What the…”

I see emails from other coaches and fitness supplement distributors, gym equipment service specialists, and our marketing manager. Nothing to draw my eye, however, nor to explain my partners’ behavior from earlier. This doesn’t make sense, so I text Richard to ask what I should be looking for, specifically, in my email inbox. His reply is swift, and I can’t help but read it aloud.

Check your outbox , he replies.

I do so and notice my email from last night. I sent it to Marius, Jax, and Richard, and it’s about some new nutritional plans for their clients. Curious, I go over it again, checking the email body carefully. I mention the adjusted caloric values, the focus on their macro-nutrients—specifically protein, my usual ramblings about paying more attention to fiber and not skipping carbs. I’ve done this so many times, including on myself, that I fail to see anything noteworthy or out of the ordinary.

But then I see the email attachment. It’s a word document, but not the one I meant to send from my home computer. Heat explodes in my chest as I recognize the file. It was on my desktop screen, next to the latest nutritional plans that were supposed to go with this message.

“Oh, shit,” I manage, beads of sweat covering my face. “Shit, shit, shit.”

In anticipation of Christmas later next month and after a hilarious conversation with my best friend and pseudo-therapist Cassandra, I put together a sort of “naughty list” to blow off some steam. It’s been six months since I’ve been with anyone. A broken heart can really mess a girl up, especially one like me—a virgin, still, much to my surprise… So, Cassandra thought it would be a good idea to write down my craziest, dirtiest fantasies, if only to cool my head off and clear my mind. I guess my body has been trying to tell me some things. The problem is that at the very top of this list, this wretched “naughty list”, is my deepest, darkest desire, written in all caps.

A STEAMY FOURSOME WITH MARIUS, JAX, AND RICHARD. I WANT THEM TO SHARE ME AND TAKE ME EVERY WHICH WAY UNTIL I SCREAM.

Thus, I wrote it, thus it was saved in the document. I wasn’t supposed to send the damned thing last night, though. It was supposed to be private. What the hell was wrong with my eyes that I ended up shooting myself in the foot?

The guys have no idea about how I feel about them, how I sometimes fantasize about them. There are days when it’s hard to even be around them—hot men who take care of themselves and who keep my heart sacred and protected against a world that sometimes seeks to hurt me. They picked me up when I was down. They nursed my soul back to health when Vincent broke it. They’ve been by my side since day one, and now… Now, they know what I’ve been dreaming about.

My face burns crimson. I am not sure how I’m even breathing at this point. I might pass out.

I can’t unsend this message. They’ve already seen it. Read it.

“Well, that explains the looks,” I whisper to myself.

How do I fix this? Hell, what do I tell them? That it was a prank? Nah, there’s too much inflammatory stuff on the list, and they know me well enough to ascertain the list’s authenticity on their own. Not that I ever talked about these things with them, but I’m pretty sure some of this might’ve slipped through a conversation here and there, in one form or another. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, just our regular banter, yet here I sit, shaking like a leaf and trying to go over everything I’ve ever said, trying to retrace my steps from last night… wondering where my head was when I added the wrong attachment to an otherwise super-professional email.

“How am I ever going to live this down?”

I don’t have an answer, just a mountain of anxiety as I think of the moment when I’m going to have to face them again. Oh, God, I need a disaster, some kind of distraction. Maybe a catastrophe. Anything big and cataclysmic enough to spare me the utter humiliation of having to walk out of my office and face my business partners, fully aware of my titanic blunder.

The door opens, and it’s as if the universe has heard my prayer and has decided to screw me over even more. Marius comes in, his big brown eyes wide and strangely warm. He’s not alone, though. Lyle, one of our personal trainers, is with him. I breathe a sigh of relief, understanding this is a professional encounter.

“Hey, Shay,” Marius says. “Lyle and I were talking about implementing a new fitness and cardio routine in the evening, Monday to Friday, and we wanted to know if you’d like to provide any new customers with personalized meal plans.”

“Sure, what were you thinking about, specifically?” I ask, my voice high-pitched and creaky with embarrassment.

Lyle smiles broadly—the man is the size of a refrigerator and just as smart, covered in tattoos and piercings. A good guy all around, despite his threatening exterior. I’m sure his wife first fell for his eyes, though. Giant blue-green saucers and a boyish smile to perfectly compliment them. It wasn’t his dazzling, non-existent personality. “We got a lot of ladies, mostly, coming in every evening and messing with the weights without understanding what they should be doing to get the best results.”

“Or how they should be doing it,” Marius adds. “They’re not sure they want full personal trainer programs, either, and it’s not like we can force them to sign up. Besides, I’m already packed, and Lyle barely has a couple of open hours left. So we thought we’d book an hour between seven and eight PM every Monday through Friday and have as many folks come in as possible. We could use the second gym room for this. We’ve got mirrors all over the walls and enough weights and dumbbells for them to work with.”

“We wanna mix weight training with light cardio. Marius and I will combine the sets and movements into something that’s easy for them to follow, and we’re thinking we could get up to twenty or thirty of them to sign up,” Lyle says.

Marius nods. “And we would also like to give them a sign-up option that includes a personalized meal plan for an entire month. You’d have to meet with each of them individually, like you usually do, and assess their wants and needs… So, if you could think of a price per plan, Lyle and I could go ahead and devise the messaging for our reception and marketing staff.”

“That sounds good,” I reply. “Sure, I can put something together. When do you need an answer from me?”

“Anytime this week would be great. The sooner we roll it out, the better for us. We need more evening traffic, and we couldn’t think of a better way to get it. Jax is doing everything he can on the martial arts side of things, but the competition is getting stiffer by the day, particularly in this neighborhood.”

His gaze is persistent. I know we’re talking business, but there’s something underneath, a layer of emotions I can’t quite read. Romanticizing something that might not exist is one of my biggest fears, so I’ve made a habit of immediately dismissing anything that may seem like attraction coming from Marius or Jax or Richard. The last thing I need is emotional complications in this business and platonic harem of ours. Yet I can’t stop myself from holding his gaze, wondering… have I been wrong the whole time?

“That makes sense,” I manage. “I know there’s a new uppity gym opening on Fifth and Lexington. That’s gonna up the stakes some more.”

Lyle scoffs. “Like they weren’t high enough, right?”

“We’ll pull through,” Marius declares stubbornly. “Oh, there’s that book,” he adds, glancing somewhere behind me. I keep a bookshelf with nutrition and fitness-themed books, psychology papers and sports magazines for various references. “The one on the mathematics of nutrition. I’m gonna borrow it for a while, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means, have at it,” I reply.

He comes over, and only now do I realize how stupid I was. I should’ve just taken the book and handed it to him. Too late. Marius closes the distance between us and reaches over my shoulder. The shelves are just behind me, but with me in my swivel chair in the way, he can’t exactly get to it as easily. This leads to a brush of his forearm against mine, causing my blood to rush up to my head as I exhale sharply.

“You smell nice,” Marius whispers, and I can feel his eyes on me.

We’re only a few inches apart. I don’t have a full view of him, but if turn my head, there’s a chance our lips might meet. It’s making my heart drum faster as I struggle to sit upright and appear normal, professional, and not the shamelessly aroused mess I’ve suddenly become as Marius withdraws from my personal space with his borrowed book.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

Lyle’s phone rings. “So, yeah, think about pricing, and we’ll talk some more. Excuse me, one of my clients is calling,” he says and leaves the office.

It puts me in a different kind of bind. The room feels small in his absence. Marius stands by the corner of my desk, watching me intently, while I try to think of something decent and neutral to say. It’s as if my own brain has decided to conspire against me, however, because nothing decent nor neutral wishes to come out.

“Did you check your outbox?” he asks, his voice low and sending chills down my spine.

“Um… Yeah…”

Marius comes closer again, and I hold my breath as I look up at him. Good grief, there’s quite the storm brewing below those long, black eyelashes of his. His cologne is soft but intoxicating as he leans forward. Barely an inch of air is left between us, the tension thickening as I close my eyes and feel his lips landing gently on the side of my neck.

It’s enough to unleash fireworks in the pit of my stomach, every atom in my body igniting against his mouth, against his sweet and sinful kiss. It feels like forever unraveling around us, forever hugging me in the absolute darkness as I sit here, motionless and aroused beyond repair, until I sense him pulling back.

My eyes open, but I can’t quite breathe just yet.

All I can do is stare at him. Wait.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, it seems,” Marius says. “Later, after work.”

A smile flutters across his lips. The same lips I felt earlier, accompanied by the tickling of his neatly trimmed beard. My fingers tingle. I’d love to run them through that thing, to feel his skin on mine, to lose myself within him, entirely.

But I just nod slowly, watching him turn around and leave.

As the door closes behind him, I sit in my swivel chair, liquid heat pooling between my legs, I can only wonder… What the hell have I just unleashed with that “naughty list”, and how do I fix it?