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He snorts. “Nothing. I guess.”
He lets his gaze linger on me, and then he says, “He cares about you.”
“Declan?” I say before bringing the water to my lips again.
“Yeah. Declan. Who else?”
“We’re just friends,” I say without taking my eyes off Declan. He’s as covered with sweat as I am. I wonder if I can convince him to join me in the locker room later.
“Yeah, and I’m the Pope,” Wylie quips. He points at me. “That look right there. That’s not the way you look at a friend.”
I shrug. “He’s a good friend.”
“That’s one way of saying it,” he mutters. Before I can open my mouth to protest, he says, “Back to work.”
––––––––
“When was the last timeyou had a nightmare?” Declan asks the next day at lunch.
“Milwaukee.”
He nods slowly. He already knows the answer. I’m not sure why he’s asking. “How do you feel you’re doing?”
“Better,” I say as I pour dressing on my salad.
He chews on his lower lip for just a second and then says, “Are you planning to continue therapy?”
I nod and stab a piece of chicken with my fork.
“Boxing?”
I smile up at him. “Will you be joining me in the locker room?”
His mouth curls up just slightly on one side. “Only if I can keep it secret from Wylie. He will kick my ass if he catches us fucking in his locker room.”
I laugh. “Yes. You’re right about that.”
He hasn’t touched his food. I lower my brows. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m planning a trip. Are you okay if I leave?” he asks.
“Of course.” I sit back in my chair. “Dex, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you, but I don’t want to keep you from your adventures. Go. Have fun.”
He doesn’t look reassured.
“It’s fine, really. I appreciate everything you’ve done.” I grab his hand. “Where are you going? I want to hear all about it.”
