Page 78 of Stick Fight

Taylor quickly changes the subject like a pro. “Hey, Jonesburger, did you get that nickname because you make the best burgers on the planet?”

Noah laughs but doesn’t answer.

“No,” I say loudly, grinning like a punk. “He got it because he can eat a burger faster than anyone alive.”

Taylor raises an eyebrow. “Should I be impressed or concerned?”

“I’d suggest you watch,” I smirk. “But honestly? It’s not pretty.”

Noah flips me off behind his back and Gabby laughs, the sound sliding right beneath my skin like it always does. “I always wondered where that nickname came from,” she says.

She takes a bite of her burger just as her phone pings. She doesn’t pull it out. Instead, she glances down and taps a reply quickly before tucking it away like she doesn’t want me to see. She quickly dives back into her meal like nothing happened.

But I notice. And I notice the way her eyes flick toward Maeve, who passes by and tosses us both a knowing grin. Yeah. Something’s definitely going on.

Before I can ask, Gabby excuses herself, slipping away quietly. I start to turn, but Taylor reaches across the table and gently places her hand over mine, stopping me.

“So, you and Rip go way back, huh?” Taylor asks, her voice teasing. “I bet you’re glad he’s coming to Boston.”

I grin. “Yeah. I don’t think Boston’s ready for him, honestly.”

She laughs, eyes sparkling. “He seemed like a nice guy. Didn’t get much time with him at Easton’s wedding. He was kind of everywhere. I had the feeling you two were up to no good.”

Rip might’ve been. I wasn’t. I was too busy chasing after a girl in a wedding dress she wasn’t allowed to design. A girl who turned my whole world upside down. But I don’t say that. Instead, I feign innocence. “Who me? Never.”

Taylor arches a brow. “Well, I heard a few stories about you and Rip causing chaos back in the Sacramento days.”

I turn to my buddy. “Really, Elias?” Elias lifts his burger and whistles like he's innocent, which is absolutely not convincing.

Taylor wags a finger at me. “You two better behave at our wedding.”

I laugh, but there’s no need for warnings. I’m not that guy anymore. Not since Gabby came into my life.

The conversation shifts to summer plans, nursery color schemes, and nannies. It's easy, and comfortable, but then Avery from The Nook—a girl I once hooked up with—slides into the seat beside me and suddenly I stiffen. Not because she’s here. But because Gabby isn’t.

I don’t want there to be a single moment Gabby doubts where I stand, especially not with another woman showing up when her seat’s empty. I glance around, subtly scanning the rooftop. That’s when I realize it’s quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that means something is about to happen.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumble, half-standing, but go still when the change room doors open and Gabby steps out, holding Everly’s hand. I drop back into my seat as Everly twirls in a full-on princess gown, and my world tilts around me.

As I take in the layers of beading, the grown-up elegance in miniature, my heart stutters. Then Brighton appears in a fairy tale dress, walking with Tate. He’s sporting an ornate little outfit, all regal and perfect. Everyone starts clapping as the kids parade around the pool like royalty. And then Mabel trots out. Yes, Mabel, Noah and Brighton’s Bernese mountain dog. She’s in a frilly gown that makes everyone lose it laughing.

Stella follows with Maeve, her pink ball gown billowing like cotton candy. Melanie and Kayce join them. Then Dani and Sidney. Each child beaming, twirling. A runway show that’s part magic, part heart…and all Gabby.

Everything clicks.

The hushed messages. They exchanged glances. Taylor stalling me with conversation. I look over at her now, and she’s grinning like the cat who orchestrated the whole damn thing. I shake my head, both amused and completely, utterly floored.

They all finish their loop around the pool, line up near the change rooms, and bow. The applause is thunderous. But no one claps louder than me because this wasn’t just a show. This was Gabby. I move through the crowd and find her, heart thundering. I take her hand, damp from holding Everly’s in the warm summer sun.

“This…” I begin, nodding toward the lineup of children-turned-models as they file back into the change rooms. “…this is what you’ve been working on all these months.”

She nods, biting her lip, watching me like she’s bracing for something. “I wanted it to be a surprise. So… what do you think?”

I look at her—really look—and my chest tightens with something that’s bigger than pride. “I think… it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

She smiles, pleased with my response. “Maeve actually gave me the idea.”

And just like that, my heart sinks. Not because I’m not proud. Not because it wasn’t breathtaking. But as I look at her, I realize something deep in my gut. All of this was a miniaturized style of her work. A compromise. A fake version of herself. Watered down dreams to fit into this new world. My throat squeezes even tighter, because I’m beginning to believe my world will never be big enough for her.

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