Page 80 of Ours to Lose
No-show new hires? Bam. Gone.
This goddamn menu that insisted on eluding me? It. Would. Not. Defeat. Me.
The anger and frustration of it welled up inside and exploded from my fists with each short burst. My heart rate rose, a flush warmed my face, and I sank into my body the way I did when I cooked and my brain almost didn’t have to take part.
No wonder Gabe loved this sport.
It helped I wasn’t getting punched back, but still.
After my arms tired out, I sat to the side and watched Gabe train. He switched between strength conditioning and boxing drills, some on the heavy bag I’d been punching (his hits landing significantly harder), but he also used others.
There was a teardrop-shaped bag that hung from the ceiling, a small round bag suspended in the air with ropes on top and bottom, and one that looked like someone had taped a boxing glove to the end of a spring and fastened it to a pole on the floor to make a boxing version of a jack-in-the-box. It whipped toward his head from every direction as he bobbed and weaved, popping it with punch combos that sent it flying the other way.
When he was done, we grabbed food at the nearby diner, then took the light rail all the way west to one of my favorite hidden gems—a rock garden with cobblestone paths, a few small ponds, and mini waterfalls. Even on such a beautiful day, hardly anyone was here.
We climbed the rocks near one of the ponds, explored the short hiking path covered in ivy, and spread out our sweatshirts on the grass to lay in the sun, listening to the babbling water. I almost fell asleep with my head on Gabe’s chest as he played with the ends of my hair, my skin warmed by the sun above and his body below.
I felt like a child again. Completely carefree in a way I hadn’t since Evan and I explored the old creek in our neighborhood and the stressors of life were still too far away to touch us.
It was the best day I’d had in a while.
When it was time for me to get ready for my birthday drinks with Evan, Gabe dropped me off at my apartment and walked me to my door. I fiddled with my keys, wanting to stretch out our time together as long as I could.
Really, I wanted to kiss him. His eyes dropped to my mouth like maybe he wanted that too, but we both held back as if unsure whether it was allowed.
Today had felt like a date, but it wasn’t. This was the “friends” part of friends with benefits. The part that didn’t kiss each other unless it would lead to sex, and there wasn’t time for that.
A kiss right now would be about nothing more than me wanting to kiss him. To feel his lips on mine and satisfy my desire to be connected to him. To show him how much today had meant to me. How muchhemeant to me.
More than he was supposed to.
More than I could ask him to accept.
Whether he knew my reason or not, he sensed I wouldn’t ask for a kiss, and true to our arrangement, he let me be the one to call the shot.
“Have fun at your birthday drinks,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”
I nodded, my throat tied up.
His mouth tipped into a soft smile. “See you later.” He turned for the stairs and, way too quickly, was gone.
“Just for a minute,”Evan said, tugging me down the sidewalk toward Ardena. “I forgot something last time I was here, and Neela said she’d hold it for me.”
I stumbled behind him in my rhinestone boots and leather skirt, intentionally dragging my feet. “It’s after close,” I argued. “She’s probably gone by now.”
She probably wasn’t, seeing as it wasn’t even midnight, and Ardena had been busy enough on the weekends to keep the staff there well past close. But so far, my birthday had been just about perfect, and I didn’t want to be reminded of how much I missed my old job by walking in there. Didn’t want anything like sadness to touch the fizzy joy popping throughout my body that had nothing to do with the drinks I’d had at dinner.
Not tonight.
“Let’s just check,” Evan said. He yanked me through the front door, and I held my breath as the familiar colors, scents, and hum of the restaurant crashed around me.
It was quieter than I expected. Instead of the low murmur of conversation from dwindling late-night tables, the dining room itself was empty, and the conversation was concentrated around the group hanging around the far end of the bar.
Through the jumble of bodies, I spotted Jase in his chef coat, a full pint glass in hand, with Zack leaning next to him on the bar, taking a beer bottle from Neela as she laughed with the new prep chef.
A shift drink.
I jerked to a stop, slipping my arm from Evan’s hold. He glanced back at me, brow creased.
