Page 66 of Gigi and the Gym Rats

Keep my eyes peeled for another beta, one I can have a meaningful relationship and a future with.

Keep my eyes on the goal while I throw myself into sports and hobbies.

Also, acquire wife-skills. You know the kind. Household tasks. Not my forte.

Coco gives her plate a critical look. “You baked this?”

I nod enthusiastically. “Yes!”

“And it’s a cake?”

“Yes?” Why is she asking me that? “Of course it’s a cake.”

“Doesn’t look like one.” June pokes her piece with the small fork. “It’s very… solid.”

“Cakes are solid,” I say, “as opposed to, you know, liquids and gases.”

Ruby gives a nervous giggle. “Have you tried it?”

“A small piece,” I admit. “You don’t think I overbaked it?”

“That’s one word for it.”

No idea what she means. It’s chocolate cake. It’s meant to look dark.

We’re sitting at the Book Café. Sawyer graciously let me bring my cake for the girls to try. For some reason, he refused to try it. Something about there not being enough for everyone. He’s so selfless.

I nod at Ruby. “How do you like it?”

“Hm?” She’s chewing on a piece and looks distracted. “Mmf.”

“Didn’t catch that.”

She keeps chewing and I leave her to it. She’s obviously enjoying it.

Look, I’m not a great cook. My mom isn’t, either. I don’t have any cooking skills to fall back on to. But I can cook. I’m passable.Right?Ronin ate my noodles once and said they were edible. His exact words.

That counts, right? Though I’ve never seen him cook either. Mostly I’ve seen him eat cereal, salads and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Which also count. Major food groups.

“What is the purpose of this exercise?” June asks, poking at her piece with her fork.

“I need to prepare for the future. I want to be a good partner in a relationship. So I want to get better at cooking and cleaning.”

“Fair enough. At least you didn’t say you want to make a good wife,” Coco mutters.

“What’s wrong with wanting to make a good wife?”

“Oh, for…” Then she grins and waves at someone. “Here, Ronin! Want some of Gigi’s cake?”

Ronin is here? I turn and sure enough there he is, walking into the café, his white-blond faux-hawk and big shoulders somehow filling up the room. He has such presence. It’s in the way he moves, as much as in his powerful physique and gorgeous face.

Oh, no.Now my mind is filled with images and instances of him.

That’s the problem with sticking to your neighborhood. The guys—my non-boyfriends—all hang out in the same places and know each other. The Book Café, the gym, the tattoo parlor. The apartment. I can’t seem to avoid them.

“I had a favor to ask you,” I say, even as my gaze tracks Ronin who’s seen us as is now heading our way.

---