Page 119 of Tangled Like Us
Because there are more possibilities for the call. Xander could be hurt knowing that Thatcher never told him he was a Marine. His military service leaked recently, and Banks and Thatcher have had to assuage confusion and some stronger feelings in the team. All without answering a probing question as to why they didn’t enlist in the Navy and follow their father’s footsteps.
No one knows.
And I wouldn’t pry, but Farrow said the Navy guys were digging at the Moretti brothers during the meeting. Until Akara stepped in with harsher words.
Thatcher taps his phone screen.
“Thatcher?” Xander sounds a little out of breath.
“Hey, kid,” Thatcher says, concern lining his forehead. “Jane is here; you’re on speaker.”
“Bonjour, Xander,” I say brightly. “Is everything okay where you are?”
“Yeah…life’s going, I guess.” Xander pants some. “I’m at Uncle Ryke’s gym…hitting this bag, or trying to.” He pauses. “Thatcher, you know how I’ve been learning to box?”
He’s been working out with Moffy and Farrow more recently, and he’s taken more interest in boxing, so Farrow has been helping teach him.
“Yeah,” Thatcher says, eyes on me and our surroundings.
I plant a hand on my hip, staring at the phone.
“I asked Farrow if he thought it’d be cool if maybe…you, him, and Banks could train me or something. To actually fight in a ring. And I get that you don’t have a lot of off-duty time. It was just an idea I had…”
Thatcher is unblinking, thinking at rapid pace. I can practically see the gears shifting in his mind, and he cares about Xander. But he must be gauging how healthy it’ll be to reconnect in this way.
To give Thatcher more time to consider, I chime in, “What’d Farrow say?”
Xander catches his breath. “He said he’s up for it.”
I’m not so sure I understand what Thatcher and Farrow are at the moment other than co-workers. But they’ve been far more willing to share space together.
“Okay, I’m up for this too,” Thatcher suddenly agrees. “I’ll help you in the ring, but with Farrow.”
“Yeahyeah,” he says, a joyful smile in his voice. It swells my heart. “Thanks, man. Just text me when you’re free.”
“Sounds good. Take care of yourself, kid.”
Once they both hang up, Thatcher has a faraway look in his eye that he tries to extinguish. He blinks hard a few times, centering himself to the here and now. His muscles are taut, and he rubs his mouth with a rougher hand.
My curiosity has fallen to the wayside. Replaced by concern. “Can I do anything for you?” I whisper and hook the angel wings back onto the rack.
Skin wrinkles between his constricted eyes, staring at me like he’s looking directly into the brightest light.
I keep going. “Maybe I can help with whatever you need. I fully recognize we’refakeboyfriend-and-girlfriend, but I’m a terrific wingwoman. I can be your right-hand.”
His lips almost tic upward. “I have no doubt you’d be great. But I’myourright-hand, honey. I’m your wingman.”
I smile a very overwhelming smile. “And you’ve been a superb wingman, but maybemywingman needs a wingwoman from time to time, and I’m at your service.” I mime the tip of a top hat.
He’s more lost in my eyes than before. “If you want to be my wingwoman, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I stare up at him more curiously and prepare for impact. “I’m all ears.”
24
THATCHER MORETTI
I’m literallya half a second from telling Jane something I almost never talk about. To anyone. Barely even Banks.
