Page 85 of Stick Fight

I really need to talk to Gabby.

I check my phone, but there’s no message from her. She must be buried in her designs, lost in the rhythm of her work. I shake my head, trying to shake the unease. After we check in, Avery heads off to her room, and I make my way to mine.

As soon as I drop my bag on the bed, my phone pings, and I reach for it with a mix of hope and impatience. It’s a message from Rip.

Rip:Let’s hit the strip.

I laugh at the peach emoji—Rip always knows how to make me smile—but let’s be real. There will be no peaches for me tonight.

Me:On my way.

I shoot Gabby a quick message to let her know I’m out with Rip, and my heart gives a little flutter. Look at me, checking in with the woman I love. I don’t hate it.

After sending it, I head downstairs and find Rip waiting for me in the lobby. We share a quick hug before heading out into the buzzing Vegas night. But honestly, I’m not in much of a party mood tonight. I try to push the thought of Gabby out of my head, but it’s like she’s there with me, lingering just beneath the surface.

A couple of drinks in, and Rip nudges me, his voice a mix of amusement and concern. “Who are you, and what have you done with Roman?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Just jetlagged still,” I tell him, but it’s more than that.

When he yawns and suggests we head back to the hotel, I don’t argue. The truth is, I’d rather just crawl into bed and video message Gabby. But when I finally make it back to my room and pull my phone from my pocket, I’m greeted by a message from her:“Have fun. I’m tired and going to bed early.”

It’s midnight here, but she’s three hours behind me, and I know she’s probably getting some rest for her early flight tomorrow. Still, I can’t help but feel that familiar pang of longing.

I shake my head, setting my phone down, and head to the bathroom for a hot shower. I need something to shake off the fatigue, and the feeling that something is missing.

When I crawl into bed, I try to quiet my mind, but it’s a restless sleep. By mid-morning, I wake up with a start and grab my phone, squinting at the screen. There’s a quick message from Gabby:“On my way.”

I drop the phone, the words hanging in the air, taunting me.On my way.She’s going to be so close, and yet, she’s hours away in California.

The rest of the day blurs by. I go through the motions—shower, dress, meet up with the guys, and wait for the wedding to begin. The ceremony is beautiful, with Rip officiating. Elias and Taylor, full circle, finally tying the knot. It’s a love story I can get behind, one that reminds me of what I want.

Still, even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop checking my phone. When the ceremony ends and we’re ushered into a stunning dining room for the reception, I notice the way a few of my teammates are watching me.

Fuck.

Are they feeling sorry for the guy who came alone? Or is something else going on?

After the meal, too much wine, and the usual speeches, we’re led to a dance area. I can’t help but laugh when I spot a full-blown Elvis impersonator wedding station, set up for anyone who might get a little too drunk and decide to take the plunge. With the way drinks are flowing, I’m sure a few of my friends will end up married before the night’s over.

Not me though. There’s only one woman I want to tie the knot with.

I glance across the room at Rip. He’s acting... off. And Avery too. The moment she catches my eye, she quickly tucks her phone away. What the hell is going on? Every time I try to catch their attention, they turn away, avoiding me. My mind races, confused and frustrated.

I pull out my phone, trying to distract myself. But when I open social media, I freeze. There’s a picture of Avery and me, my hand on her back, leading her to an Uber.

What the hell?

I shrug it off. This is what’s upsetting everyone? There’s no way Gabby is going to care about this nonsense, or the caption that’s “shipping” us. She trusts me, and I trust her. I shoot her a quick text and head to the bar to wait for her response.

The minutes drag on. I spot Rip glancing around, his eyes darting like he’s looking for me.

“Get over here,” I shout when I catch his gaze. He freezes for a second, like he might bolt, but then he starts walking toward me. Avery follows behind him, and by now, I’m pretty sure I’m seeing two of her. What the hell was in those drinks?

Rip finally makes it to the bar, and Avery grabs a table. “Let’s sit,” Rip says, his voice serious. The tone makes me laugh.

“Listen,” I tell him, trying to keep my cool. “I saw the posts of Avery and me. Everything is fine.”

I take slow steps toward the table, but my mind is racing. I sit down with a loud scrape of the chair and toss my phone onto the table, my nerves tightening.

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