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In the break room, I can hear the plastic bags rustling and the fridge closing.

“If you want a girl to gossip with, I’ll give you my sister’s number,” I mock, but regret it the moment I say it.

“Really?” She perks up. “Good. She’ll tell me all the details of your love life.”

“Shit. I really shot myself in the foot by saying that. Never mind. My sister doesn’t have a phone.”

“I gave birth today, but I wasn’t born today. So nice try,” she retorts

Seconds later, I hear Liam and nearly jump. “Quit hassling the man.”

“What are you doing here? Where’s Tyler?” Maddie panics as Liam comes into view and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Relax. My dad is sleeping over. I didn’t want you two to be alone.”

The way they look at each other is something I desperately wish I had. “Aww,” I sing-song. “You two are disgustingly adorable.”

“Dude.” Liam moves closer. “How are things down in the South?”

We talk often, but he likes to ask these basic questions when Maddie is around, just so the conversation doesn’t move to Victoria.

“Fuckin’ hot, that’s what. Especially in the garage.” I groan, still wearing my sweaty clothes from today. I can’t wait to go home and take a damn shower.

“Hey, no bad language around the baby!” The moment the words leave Maddie’s mouth, she chuckles.

“How are the new jobs going?” Liam asks. I told him last week about getting hired at the gym.

“Not bad. Keeps my mind occupied, which I like, and off other things.” I don’t mention what those other things are, but nothing gets past Maddie.

“Like Gemma…” she whispers and grins.

“No, like the mafia princess who put me in prison,” I say sternly, but she was right. Gemma is always on my mind too. I just can’t admit that with her so close. But considering I’m going to Vegas this weekend for my deposition on Monday, it’s hard not to think about Victoria.

“Tyler, you better not be thinking what I think you are,” Liam states firmly.

I shrug, fully aware my food is getting cold in the next room. “I really do have to go, though.”

“We love you!” Maddie tells me. “Please call me soon. You know I’ll be bored on maternity leave!”

“I will, Mads. Don’t worry,” I promise with a sincere smile.

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up, take a deep breath, then enter the break room. Gemma really did pull the whiskey from her dad’s bottom drawer and opened it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wait,” she tells me around a mouthful. I move closer to her and brush my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the extra mayo on her face.

She swallows down her food and grabs a napkin. “I’m a hot mess.”

“What else is new?” I laugh and sit across from her. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Welcome,” she says, then hands me the whiskey. I take a huge swig, then hand it back to her, and she takes one too. As I take my food out of my bag and cut my burger, she grabs two plastic cups, and we empty the bottle of whiskey between us. While it takes the edge off, it’s not enough to get me drunk. It’s dangerous for her to be around me when she drinks because when her inhibitions are down, we do stupid things. But I promised myself that I’d try harder to keep her at arm’s length.

A part of me expects we’ll discuss what happened, but Gemma never brings it up and neither do I. We eat in silence, only the sounds of our breathing filling the space. When we’re almost done, she speaks up.

“Everleigh’s fall sale did great this week,” she tells me. “Sold out of all the Hans Solo costumes.”

I chuckle, thinking back to the beginning of the summer when I suggested she order all the leggings, vests, and boots. “I heard. She’s doing so well.”

“She is. I’m really proud of her for following her dreams.”

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