“How many Beckys?” I swing my gaze to Fox. “How often?”
Alana laughs, striding across and scooping her daughter straight out of Fox’s hands. “This is gonna be interesting. That’s all I’m saying on the matter.” But then she stops and glares. “I’m still a little pissy at him for bringing Tommy a Becky a while back. I don’t even know if Tommy knows I know, but I saw her. I saw Ollie draping his arms over those bitches like some kind of pimp.”
Against my better judgement—and conscious decision—my nose wrinkles. “Does he collect Beckys often?”
Eliza wanders to the mirror and drags an elastic from her hair, runningher fingers through the platinum blonde locks to smooth them out. “You have no clue who you are or where you came from, and God knows, you might have an angry ex-boyfriend hunting you down, but I mention my brother and his hussy entourage, and you develop a sudden desire to fuck a bitch up. Cute.”
“You can’t label it yet,” Alana murmurs. “And we all know this is far more complicated than a typicalboy-meets-girlsituation. But she,” she gestures to Eliza, “says she sees the way he looks at you? I’m saying I see the way you look at him. You accepted his offer to come to his home because you trusted him. Cliff is the sweetest, gentlest, kindest, dopey dog I’ve ever met, but when he scared you, you backed up to hide behind Ollie. And Ollie’s no grump, but compared to Cliff?” She laughs. “He’s basically a Rottweiler.”
“It’s okay if you like him,” Fox says. “And it’s okay not to be sure, since this is complicated.”
“Just don’t break his heart,” Eliza finishes. “If you decide to leave someday, in a week or a month or a year, I just ask that you do it delicately.” She stares at me through the mirror, finger-combing her hair into three sections before she re-braids the long locks. “If you wake up someday and remember who you are, and maybe you realize you have an amazing life somewhere else, don’t just dip out and leave him hanging. Give him closure.”
“He deserves that.” Alana presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “He deserves peace.”
“What happened between the two of you?” I turn and rest against the sink, my eyes narrowing to curious slits. “You say things like that, like there’s something big and scary and heavy sitting in your past. And he speaks of you like you…” I shake my head. “Like he’s in love with you.”
All three of them stare. They stop moving, stopdoing, and simply exist.
“It’s not romantic, because I know he loves Tommy, too. But there’s something here… something between you. He has a wall of books he bought from your shop, did you know that? And he doesn’t even read them.”
Her eyes glitter with sadness. “He doesn’t? He said he does.”
“He told me differently, and I’ve seen the wall. Those books are still brand new.”
“You should ask him what happened.” Eliza re-ties the second braid and turns, laying her hand on my arm. “And then you can remind him it wasn’t his fault.”
“We keep telling him,” Alana murmurs. “But he carries so much in his heart. So much guilt for something that was never his to carry in the first place.”
“Rose?”
I startle and swing my gaze to the door. Toward Ollie’s probing voice.
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t know where you’re up to with…this.” Eliza gestures across the room. “But if you’re the kind of friends who hug sometimes, now would be a fantastic time to do that. Lean on him for a second, because it’s good for you both, and he really,reallylikes that. Tell him you’re okay—because you are. You’re strong. Then once you’ve done all that, come on out to the cage and I’ll teach you how to destroy a man in three easy steps.” She pushes away from the sink, sashaying her perfect eight-pack-abbed body to the door, then swinging it wide, she reveals her anxious brother on the other side. “She’s okay, Doc. She just needed a minute to catch her breath.”
His eyes, a perfect replica of Eliza’s bright blue, lock on to mine. His chest lifts and falls, fast, rhythmic breaths expanding his lungs. He keeps a tight hold on the million emotions passing through his body, but his gritting jaw is a tell I’m not sure he even knows he has. The flex and release of muscle in his cheeks gives him away.
“We were just leaving.” Fox snags Alana’s hand and draws her across the room. “Take five.” She claps Ollie’s shoulder and squeezes through the gap of the door. “We’ll be waiting for you when you come out.”
“Are you okay?” He stares. Clenches his jaw. He digs his hands into his pockets, only to take them out again and ball them into fists. Release. Back into his pockets. “We can leave if?—”
“You can come in, if you want.” I wrap my hands around the lip of the ceramic sink on either side of my thighs. And because he’s just so… perfect, he does exactly as I say. He steps in and closes the door, and crossing the not-very-pretty tile, he comes to a stop about two feet from where I stand. “I don’t want to leave,” I rasp. I mean, I kind of do. But it would be selfish to do so, because the man asksnothingof me except to teach me how to throw a punch. “We should stay and let Eliza show me some moves.”
“Whatdoyou want then?” He drags his hands out of his pockets and drops them by his side. “Besides Eliza teaching you something. Tell me what you need, Rose, and I’ll?—”
“A hug?” I open my arms and wait. Like a friggin’ idiot. “I could really do with one of those.”
He closes the two feet between us and crashes against my chest, circling his arms around my torso and burying his face against my neck. His hot breath bathes my skin, his heart pounds against mine. But Eliza was right. She was so,soright. Hugs are good for us. And a hug fromhim…
“Also, I feel like it’s a little late to ask now, but what the hell is up withyour baby sister flattening a grown man in the ring? You didn’t think to mention that in all the time we’ve known each other?”
Chuckling, he slides his palm over my back, warming me through my hoodie. “I didn’t mention it already?”
“Absolutely not. I’m sure ‘my sister is a fighting machine obligated to register her body with the U.S. government as an actual weapon’ is something I’d remember. Did you know she has eight abs?” I pull back and look into his eyes, but I don’t pull away. I rest my arms on his shoulders, and he rests his hands on my hips. “I didn’t even know regular human beings could have eight abs.”
“They can’t. Not year-round. No one can.” He swipes his tongue across his smiling lips. “She’s gearing up for a fight soon, so she’s working harder. But when she’s in maintenance mode, eating like a normal human eats, she only has six. Sometimes four if she had pizza for dinner the night before.”
