"I'm just asking—"
"Wes," Chappell called, appearing from the locker room with his bag over one shoulder. "You coming out?"
"Can't," I said.
Chappy eyed me like he was doing arithmetic, which, god love him, I wasn't sure Chappy could do.
"You know," he said, "Emma's got a friend. A figure skater. He’s been—"
"Chappy," I said.
"I'm just saying. You're what, twenty-three?"
"Last time I checked."
"One day you'll want to settle down," he said. Chappy had been married to Emma for, like, forever, I think. "Married life," Chappy continued, "is genuinely great. Like, I know everyone says that but I mean it. You come home and someone's there. Emma made this thing last week with—"
"Chappy."
"I'm just saying. You're out every night, Morr. That gets old." He paused. "You don't want to end up alone like Dr.—"
"Chappy," I said.
He stopped.
"Don't," I said.
He blinked.
"Anyway," Jenkins said quickly. "We're just grabbing drinks. You could come for one."
"I said—"
"What's the skater's name?"
I jumped.
Actually jumped.
Like full-body flinch, shoulders up, heart kicking hard against my ribs, because there had absolutely not been a six-foot-something tattooed nightmare standing there two seconds ago, and now there was.
Foster stood just behind Chappy's shoulder like he'd materialized out of the lockers. The dude was tall, with ink crawling up both forearms like he lost a fight with a Sharpie. Expression unreadable in that deeply unsettling way where you couldn't tell if he was bored or planning something extremely illegal.
Maybe both.
He was also standing way too close.
I resisted the urge to take half a step sideways, because I was not about to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he'd successfully activated my fight-or-flight response.
"His name? No clue, man. I'm just saying," Chappy said, "It's nice to have someone."
It’s nice to have someone.
"Yeah." I nodded. "I know."
Chappy looked at me for a second longer than necessary. Then he let it go, which was the thing about Chappy, he was not a complicated man. "Anyway. Emma's friend? He’s nice. Just think about it."
"I'm good," I said.
