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I tilted my head to Emmett. “What about him?”
“I’m going to my friend's house,” he said, eyes still glued to the TV. “His mom is picking me up in a little bit.”
My wheels started turning immediately. “Nah, you go ahead,” I told Paige. “I might nap.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, so I yawned for effect.
“Okay.”
“Still nothing from … her?” I asked.
Even after so many years, I didn’t love saying Brooke’s name, and Paige knew it.
Paige shook her head. “Not yet.” Paige knew about my phone call with Molly, but I still hated feeling like I wasn’t sure what to expect. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If she was going to come, she would’ve sent in her RSVP.”
I laughed humorlessly. “You guys give her more credit for manners than I do.”
Paige walked around and dropped a kiss on the top of Emmett’s head, then mine. Carefully, she traced her thumb by the butterfly bandage. “It’s starting to peel up a bit. How long until you can take it off?”
“Paramedic said probably seven to ten days. Once the wound is totally closed.”
She nodded, then tilted her head. “You going to sneak out to work as soon as I leave?”
I held her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Aiden know you’re coming?”
“It’s his day off, so no. I just want to fix the schedule and check that he did payroll right.” I paused. “And make sure he didn’t mess up my storage closet.”
Paige sighed. “No kicking or running or punching or anything other than a sedate walk, okay?”
I smiled. “Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was behind the wheel of my car with the warm September air blowing through my hair. It wasn’t like I wasn’t enjoying some extra time with Logan and Paige and Emmett, but it had been so long since I’d had to account for my time to anyone. And after the night at Aiden’s, I found myself craving a little solitude to process it.
It was the only reason I felt sort of okay with the agreed-upon four days off work, tacked in front of my usual day off. Seeing him, thinking about what I’d say or how to act, I was still tiptoeing around it.
The last thing I wanted to do was make the work environment impossible for either of us, but I was no good at faking. I never had been. My thoughts, for better or worse, had always been stamped clearly on my face.
It was probably why most men didn’t even really try with me.
And now—wasn’t it so freaking ironic—I found a man I wanted, and his lack of trying stemmed from something entirely different. I just wasn’t sure if he’d ever trust me with the truth of why.
After parking my car, and making sure I didn’t see Aiden’s big black truck, I let myself into the gym and smiled at Gavin, who was on the phone behind the front desk. He mouthed something, but I couldn’t make it out.
I pointed back to my office. “Tell me later,” I said.
He gave me a thumbs-up.
But as soon as I cleared the front area, I knew what he was trying to tell me.
Aiden was standing in front of a small news crew, an attractively dressed woman holding a microphone in his face. He hadn’t seen me yet because he was angled away from the front door.
“And what’s the biggest problem you see facing young fighters today, Aiden?”
With his hands propped on his hips, a black shirt bearing the gym’s new logo tight across his chest, Aiden looked so serious, so handsome. He shook his head. “No doubt about it, it’s the way the weight classes are set up. If they don’t add more, you’ll just see more and more big guys dehydrating themselves going into a fight so they can make a lower weight class.”
She nodded. “And why do you see that as an issue?”
