Page 48 of Stick Fight

“Evil,” I say.

Her laughter is light but wicked, and it lifts the tension. A moment later, she tries to stifle a yawn, and I give her backside a little pat, steering her toward her bag. “Get unpacked. I’ll go find us something to eat.”

Before I leave she says, “Tomorrow, I’ll make some phone calls. See about work.”

My body stiffens, and I try to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to upset her, but we both know the reality. Thanks to that asshole, she’s going to hit roadblocks. Going to have doors slammed before she even has a chance to knock.

I hesitate in the doorway. “You know there’s no hurry, right?”

“I know but I don’t want?—”

“Gabby,” I warn in a soft tone.

“I don’t want to be a freeloader, and honestly Roman, I’m not used to having spare time on my hands. I won’t know what to do with myself.”

An idea sparks in my mind but I file it away for later. “I can understand that. But if you call your connections, what are you going to say?” The thoughts of her getting doors slammed in her face makes me want to hunt that asshole down and tear him a new one.

She sighs. “You’re right. Maybe it’s too soon.” She frowns and throws her arms up, letting them slap against her hips. “Maybe I can get something in Boston until things cool down and Cass comes to his senses and isn’t hell bent on ruining me.” I’m not sure either of us believe that will happen. “I’ve only ever known fashion, but in the meantime, maybe I can find something to keep me busy and bring in some money.”

“I could talk with Gina. Maybe there’s something at the Nook.”

She nods. “Thanks, Roman. Is it okay if I think about that?”

I probably shouldn’t have offered. She wants to stand on her own two feet, but sometimes it’s okay to ask a friend for help. “Of course.” Leaving her to her thoughts, I head to the kitchen and pull open the fridge. After a quick scan, I let out a sigh and shut it. Pizza it is. I pull out my phone and place an order at my favorite spot. Once that’s done, I grab my bag and dump the contents straight into the washing machine.

When I turn and find Gabby standing behind me, I nearly jump two feet in the air. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Roman.” She presses a hand to my arm, her eyes wide. I clutch my chest dramatically, feigning a heart attack. “You really are used to living alone, aren’t you? Maybe I’ll have to wear a bell.”

“We don’t have to go that far, but if you want to wear a bell and nothing else, I’m not going to protest.”

She chuckles but it dies an abrupt death when she glances at the washing machine. Her face contorts like it physically pains her to see all my clothes bunched up. “Um, you’re going to wash all those clothes together? Darks and lights?”

I glance at the knotted ball, then back at her. “I normally do.”

Her lips twitch. “Roman.”

“What?”

She exhales like I’ve personally offended her ancestors. “Would you mind if I did a load too? Actually, I don’t have a lot, so maybe we can mix our loads and do a proper light and dark, like we’re civilized human beings?”

I raise a brow. “Civilized. That’s a strong word for laundry.”

She crosses her arms looking downright pained. “I work in fashion, Roman. It physically hurts my soul to watch you commit a crime against fabric.”

“Fine, but if I start losing socks with all your mixing and matching, and civilization, there’s going to be trouble.”

She laughs. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t walk around like a guy who lost a fight with a washing machine, and then tried to blame it on the dryer.”

I laugh. “Have at it, Gabs. I ordered pizza. I hope that’s okay. I usually eat better than that during the season.” I pat my stomach. “Gotta stay in game shape.”

She nods in sheer appreciation as her gaze moves down the length of me. “You’re doing a good job of that.”

I grin like an idiot. But I like that she thinks so. “Pizza was fast, and probably not much else open today. Tomorrow I’ll get groceries and do better.”

She starts pulling my clothes from the washer. “I can do that while you have practice. It’ll give me something to do.”

“If you want. Don’t feel like you have to do that for me, though. I’ve been a bachelor for a while now. I get by just fine.”

She holds up my light dress shirt, and dark pants. “Right, by committing crimes against humanity.” She grins and sorts the pile. Once she gets the machine turned on—and, well,meturned on, but honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m always turned on around her, we flop down on the sofa. While we wait for the pizza to arrive, I grab my laptop and pull up a map of downtown Boston.

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