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four
Hobbs wasn’t exactly sure how he’d got stuck with making sure the gym was spotless before the doors were locked and he could head home. Everyone had pitched in, but Rhett had assigned him full mop duty before he headed out, citing spilled tequila and sticky messes everywhere.
Sure, Hobbs thought.Sic mop duty on me and escape into the night with your exotic fortune-teller.If that wasn’t some crap. He didn’t really mind, though. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but Hobbs liked the simple joy mundane tasks provided. There was a kind of Zen that came from mopping a floor, getting into a rhythm, cleaning up a space. It freed his mind to wander, to think about things that had happened that day while his body worked on autopilot.
Like the kiss he’d just selfishly stolen from little Tabby Cat. He’d never called her that to her face, but that was how he thought of her. A slinky little striped cat. Not that Tabitha had literal stripes, but when it came to personality, Tabby had more shades than a rack of sunglasses.
And that kiss. Hell.
Hobbs wasn’t exactly sure why he’d done it, other than too much tequila and the literal truth that he’d always been curious, but as soon as his lips touched hers he’d felt his mistake. Something deep inside that told him,No, don’t go there. Hobbs felt bad about leaving Tabitha hanging, but if she brought it up later he’d blame it on the tequila and hope she did, too.
“Hi.”
Hobbs jerked his head up, his Mop Zen popped and gone like a bubble in the wind. A girl stood there, just inside the entrance. She was tall, had long hair the color of cinnamon and the kind of face that drew double takes. She wore blue jeans and a dark hoodie. “Hi.” Hobbs smiled but reined in his natural urge to flirt. Something told him the girl was even younger than she looked. “Afraid you missed the party. And the gym’s closed.”
“I’m looking for my mom.” She looked around, like her mom might be hiding in one of the corners. “Clementine?”
So her mom reallycouldbe hiding in one of the corners. “Lily?” Hobbs registered the surprise on the girl’s face. “Your mom talks about you all the time.” His instincts had been right. He was pretty sure Clementine had said her daughter was sixteen, a junior in high school. “She just left. I’m Hobbs, one of the coaches.”
“Nice to meet you.” The girl seemed unsettled, hands in her hoodie pockets as her gaze toured the gym.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just—” Lily pointed toward the entrance “—I’ve got a couple critters in the car. From the shelter. I was hoping to hit up my mom before she got home.”
“That’s right. Your mom said you work at the animal shelter. That you’re always bringing creatures home.” Hobbs had listened to the stories about lame dogs, one-eyed cats, mauled rabbits. Every week Lily brought home an animal slated to die because no one wanted it. Many ended up at Sunny’s place, others they kept as fosters until they were given forever homes. None ever stayed, Clementine said, because there was always a new batch to foster every week.
“She’s going to freak if I just show up with them.” Lily nibbled on her lower lip. “Because we already have Roscoe right now.” Lily eyed Hobbs like he was a sounding board, just someone to bounce ideas off of until she hit on a good one. “He’s this little terrier that doesn’t play well with others. I have somebody interested in him, but they can’t come see him until next weekend.”
“What you got tonight?” It was against his better judgment to ask, but Hobbs’s curiosity was piqued. He pictured a couple of ragtag old mutts.
“I named them George and Gracie.” She pushed a tendril of her long hair behind her ear. “See, George is very protective of Gracie. He won’t let anyone near her. Everyone who comes to the shelter wants to adopt Gracie but nobody wants George. If you take Gracie away from George, she howls. You see the problem.”
“Definitely.”
“Well.” Lily looked thoughtful for a moment. “Mom will just have to deal with George and Gracie for now. They can stay in my room.”
“I think that’s fair.” Hobbs had no idea what he was talking about, but the girl seemed really rational.
“All right. Thank you.” Lily, apparently having figured everything out, turned to go.
“Wait.” Hobbs jammed the mop back in the bucket and surveyed the floor. Good enough. “Let me walk out with you. Make sure you get in your car.”
Lily shrugged. “Okay.”
Once they were outside, standing right next to each other, Hobbs realized Lily was as tall as he was. Maybe even taller. “Got your height genes from your dad, huh?”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“That your wagon?” Hobbs peered into an old station wagon that Lily was edging toward and spied a large pet carrier in the back seat.
“That’s it.”
“Can I see them?”
“Who?”
“George and Gracie. I’m curious.” Was he? Or did he just not want to go home? Hobbs had been either working or partying all day and evening, and home only meant one thing: no excuses left not to text Victor back. All day he’d told himself he was just too busy to get into it, whatever Victor had to tell him about Pops. But there was putting somebody off and there was rude, and Hobbs was bordering on rude. Or maybe he’d crossed over to rude a long time ago—he wasn’t sure. Could you even be rude to your brother, or was that just being normal?
