I laugh. “I know. And I’d love to come.” The words come out before I can stop them.
“That’s good. Because if you said no, I would have been forced to cash in that favor you owe me for helping this morning.”
I giggle. “Thank you again for that, by the way. You were actually pretty great with those kids.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and our gazes lock. Neither of us says anything, but I can feel the weight of his stare like it’s touching me. For the briefest moment, I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. And then I force the thought from my mind.
“Thank you for lunch,” he says, standing to collect our plates. “I’ll clean up and get going. I’ve taken up your whole afternoon.”
The way he speaks makes it easy for me to imagine him in a setting like an upscale auction house, schmoozing clients and greeting them with his charming words. It’s probably easy for him to slip into that mask, the one that he knows will please his parents and the people he needs to impress.
And then an idea comes to me.
“Wait a second. What were you saying earlier about sponsors?”
He frowns. “If I don’t find one, I won’t make much from my next fight.”
“AndIneed to raise my rating at the salon to get my old groomer back. Do you see where I’m going with this?” I raise my eyebrows.
Bash’s frown only deepens. “That we all have problems?”
“No. I’m trying to say I’ll sponsor you if you can help me raise my rating.”
“Sponsor me?” Bash crosses arms. “How? I thought your business is close to failing.”
“It is. But if Agatha comes back, it would solve everything. I’d make twice what I am now. I could afford to sponsor you, easily.”
Bash rubs the back of his neck. “What could I do to bring up your rating that you can’t do on your own?”
“I need to be more available, which means taking more dogs every day. And I also need help finishing my grooms faster. I can train you to help me speed things up.” I shake my head. “There’s no way I could do any of it without your help.”
Bash mulls my words over. He doesn’t break the stare we have going. For a minute, I think he’s going to turn down my offer, but then an understanding smile spreads across his face. “You got yourself a deal.”
Chapter Eleven
BASH
I’m late for work.
Of course I am.
After leaving Romilly’s yesterday, I ended up at Harbor Strike MMA, the closest decent gym—which, of course, was all the way in Portland. And turns out, the long drive was worth it because the head coach, Greg, recognized me the second I walked in. Apparently, he’s seen the viral clip of me against four guys in a parking lot and had also caught my pro debut. So, instead of brushing me off, he offered me a spot right then and there to train alongside the other fighters. I didn’t even have to ask.
And this morning, the welcoming scent of the sweat and rubber matting in the gym woke me up in the best way. Even if it was the kind of smell that stuck to my lungs long after leaving. Thankfully, I’ve been doing plenty of strength training and cardio before now, but grappling and sparring with the other pro fighters had me struggling. And that wouldn’t do. I lost track of time, and after three hours, realized how late I was about to be for The Paw Spa.
As I drive home to change, I overthink my lunch with Romilly the same way I did last night. I can’t help it. The woman is taking over my mind.
I still can’t believe she made those sandwiches. With fresh bread. I don’t feel worthy.
I’ve been wondering if she’s the woman of my dreams, but the moment I tasted the meal she effortlessly crafted, my suspicions were confirmed.
Romilly is perfect. She’s too good to be true, and definitely too good for me. It’s even more evident now that she’s willing to sponsor me over something as trivial as helping her rating go up. She hardly knows me, and she already believes in me. Something my own parents aren’t even capable of.
Shake it off, Bash. To be in a relationship is to be controlled. Just like how Mum is with Dad.I recall the way they’ve always bickered, how Mum is always hurling insults and names at Dad whenever he so much as meets with a friend during the week after work. I’ve seen what a relationship looks like, and I want no part of it.
But when I try to imagine Romilly in my mother’s shoes, yelling at me and calling me names, my mind goes blank. She simply doesn’t fit that bill. Not with her gentle tone, her kind demeanor, or the way she’s always going out of her way to think of others before herself.
Besides, it’s impossible to be controlled by someone who wants nothing to do with you. And Romilly obviously has no interest in me. She’s made it more than clear.
