Page 46 of Desperate Haste

“Because of the way he says your name and talks about you. Malcolm is normally pretty forthcoming, but with you, he keeps a lot of it close to his chest. I only know the little he’s said at campaign night after I nearly pried it out of him.” I picture the scene in my mind of this happening as the waitress comes and drops our food off at the table.

We all begin to enjoy our meals and I silently revel in the forced pause of their inquisition. My heart swells knowing that he hasn’t told them everything that has happened between us. I know the kind of guy he is—the kind who boasts to his friends about his latest conquest and weekend fling. But it seems as if what we have is different. Maybe he really does like me as more than just a casual fuck. The four of us eat in silence until our plates are clean and our cups are empty. Sitting with full bellies, we all look at one another.

“So are you going to date him?” Bailey asks, breaking the silence with another pointed question.

“Bailey,” I sigh warily.

“What? Helikesyou, Ophie. And I think he likes you a lot. You should have seen his face when I walked in on him naked and in his towel when he talked about you. It was like when a lost puppy finally finds its owner. It was so sweet to see but also weird because it’s Malcolm. I think you two would be good for one another.”

“Sweetie, stop. I don’t date. I don’t do relationships. You know this, I know this, he knows this. What we have is working and good and while it might not make sense to you, it makes sense for us. We’re just having fun, okay?” I reach across the table for her hand and squeeze it. I know her heart is in the right place, that she just wants me to be as happy as she is. To have what she does. But I told myself a long time ago that I will never have that and I’m okay with it. No amount of tattoos or mind-blowing orgasms will change that. No matter how sexy he looks while wearing those thick-framed glasses.

“I’d still like to hear more about your sexcapades though, if we could circle back to that sometime,” Margaret teases from across the table, drawing a circle in the air with one finger. The four of us howl, causing some of the other Sunday brunchers to stare.

“One day, my friend, I would love to tell you all about it.” I turn to pull my card out of my wallet when the waitress drops our bills on the table but before I can set it down, Magnolia snatches the bill folders off the table.

“No, no, this one is on Kolbi today,” she says with a wink, holding up a platinum black card in her hand. “And this is my formal request to make this a standing Sunday brunch. What do we say?”

I meet the eyes of the other girls sitting around the table and for the second time this morning, my heart swells in my chest knowing that my inner circle has grown by two.

“Deal.”

23

MALCOLM

“Look who it is,” I call out from the ring. “You look like hell, man, you okay?”

I watch as Marshall ducks under the half-opened garage door of the training center which is partially down to keep out the chill of the December air. Christmas is next week and while many of the people who train at the gym have gone home to be with family, my family—both blood and not—live right here in Charleston so I have nowhere to go.

Marshall waves a hand at me and pairs it with a half smile. He seems to be limping or moving like he is in pain. I’m about to ask him if he is okay when he speaks. “Thank you for the reminder that I’m old. I can always rely on you to keep me humble.”

“Where’ve you been? You haven’t been here or at the bar as often as you normally are.” I bend over at the waist to step out of the ring and walk up to him.

“Who the hell are you, my mother?” He chuckles and bumps my fist. His breath is shallow and coming out in short bursts. “Just been busy, holiday season and what not. I had to get some affairs in order.” His eyes flit around the center and I follow his gaze.

“Reese isn’t here right now, he just left actually,” I explain, assuming that’s who he’s looking for.

“Damn, I needed to talk to him.” The tone of his voice makes my brows furrow, like he’s not telling me something. Is Butcher and Block in trouble? Is he stressed about that? He turns and looks at me again, making his face light and easy.

“You done?” he asks, nodding towards the ring.

“Yeah, I can be.” He nods silently and moves towards one of the metal fold out chairs along the wall and I follow him, lowering myself down into the chair next to his.

“What’s going on in your life? Fill me in.” His voice is raspy and worn.

“Nothing really, just hanging out with the guys and working at the bar. Training here like normal.”

“And?”

“And what?” I turn to look at him and he tilts his weathered forehead at me with his lips pulled into a straight line.

“I’ve known you a long time. Years. I’m your sponsor and your boss. I know when you’re not telling me something.” Leave it to him to know when I’m holding out. He isn’t wrong, behind my friends, he knows me better than anyone.

I push out a slow breath. “And there’s this girl,” I start before leaning my elbows on my knees and dropping my eyes towards the floor.

He chuckles softly beside me and pats me on the back reassuringly. “And there’s a girl.”

I turn my neck to look at him. “Her name is Ophelia.”

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