I watch them fall into their rhythm—Micah arguing with Remy about pineapple being an abomination, Cruz demanding extra meat on everything, Jonah mediating the whole thing with practiced efficiency. It strikes me how nothing’s really changed, except everything has.
“Hey boss,” Micah looks up from the phone debate, “Theo coming?”
The question hangs there for a beat. Six months ago, it would have sent me into a tailspin of panic. Now I just feel a strange flutter in my chest.
“Yeah,” I say, the word coming easier than expected. “Told him to swing by after his meeting.”
Cruz’s grin spreads wide. “Good. Dude needs to try my pizza combination.”
“Your combination is a heart attack waiting to happen,” Remy scoffs.
“So is my right hook, but you don’t see anyone complaining.”
The door chimes twenty minutes later. Theo walks in wearing one of his designer jackets over a simple black t-shirt, looking like he stepped off a magazine cover. My stomach does that thing it always does when I see him.
He crosses directly to where I’m leaning against the wall and kisses me without hesitation. Not a quick peck, but nothing indecent either. Just enough to make it clear we’re together.
Micah and Cruz exchange glances before Cruz whistles low.
“Damn, you two together is a whole vibe,” Cruz says, taking a long pull from his beer. “Gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall when you fuck. Must be hot as hell.”
The room falls silent for a split second. I feel heat rising to my face, my body tensing. But before I can respond, Theo looks up at me with that expression I know too well—eyes slightly hooded, one corner of his mouth curled up in that devilish smirk. I immediately recognize what’s going through his head. The exhibitionist in him is practically vibrating at the idea of giving them a show.
I swallow hard and say nothing, reaching for my beer instead.
“Leave ‘em alone, Cruz,” Marco says, tossing a balled-up napkin at him. “Not everyone’s as open about their sex life as you.”
Cruz laughs, unbothered. “What? It was a compliment!”
“Ignore him,” Jonah tells Theo, passing him a plate. “He’s got no filter even before the beer. Gets worse after.”
Theo just grins, settling beside me on the bench. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
The conversation shifts as the pizza arrives—five large boxes stacked on the table. Everyone dives in, grabbing slices and continuing their earlier debates. The beer flows freely, and I feel the tension in my shoulders loosening with each bottle.
“So Theo,” Micah asks between bites, “you ever seen Victor fight? Like, back when he competed?”
Theo shakes his head. “Only videos. Wish I’d been there live.”
“Man, you missed out,” Remy says. “Boss was a fucking animal in the cage.”
“Still is,” Cruz adds with a wink. “Just in different arenas now, I bet.”
The guys dissolve into laughter as Theo raises his beer in acknowledgment, leaning into my side.
A few more beers in, Cruz’s booming laugh gets louder with each empty bottle. He’s sprawled on the bench now, taking up twice the space of anyone else, gesturing wildly as he tells a story about a bouncer who tried to throw him out of a club last weekend.
“Man thought he was tough until I stood up,” Cruz says, flexing his bicep for emphasis. His eyes drift over to Micah, who’s finishing his third beer. “Hey, Rivera,” he calls across the table, his voice dropping an octave, “you got plans after this? Been a while since we hung out after hours.”
The suggestion in his tone isn’t subtle. Cruz’s eyes travel down Micah’s body with clear intent.
Micah smirks, catching the look. “Depends what you had in mind, big man.”
“I’ve got ideas,” Cruz says, licking his lips. “Plenty of ‘em.”
Theo shifts beside me, leaning forward with that dangerous glint in his eyes that usually means trouble. “Why wait?” hesuggests, casual as discussing the weather. “We’ve got the whole gym to ourselves, don’t we, Victor?”
I nearly choke on my beer.
