“Fuck off.” Jase’s jaw drops. “Did you finally make a move on her?”
Devon hoots. “He did! I can see it in his face.”
When did I become so easy to read?
“Screw you, assholes,” I say, in lieu of an answer. What’s between Sydney and me is just that: between us.
Clapping me on the shoulder, Devon says, “Good for you. Took you long enough.”
I force myself to laugh. “Yeah, well, good things take time, and they’re usually worth the wait.”
Jase crosses his arms and lifts his chin, giving me what—if I didn’t know better—I’d call a Big Brother Stare-Down. “I’m happy for you, man. But if you hurt her, you’ll be in a world of pain because we all care about Sydney. She’s a great person. And, you know,” he shrugs, “she and Lena are tight, which means I’m responsible for her virtue or some crap like that because no one else has ever done that for her.” His eyes flick up and down. “Except you.”
I’ve got to say, it’s weird as fuck getting the hard word put on me by the guy I think of as a brother, but I’m glad he has Sydney’s back. She deserves to have people looking out for her.
“I’ll do my best. I want her happy.”
He nods. “I know you do.”
“Good. Can we be done with this conversation now?”
He tosses me a skipping rope. “Seth says thirty minutes, then we’ll do power rounds. He’ll partner with you.”
Devon smirks. “You screwed up, man, and he’s going to let you know it.”
I was expecting this, but still, my heart sinks. Seth is like an older brother to all of us, and when he’s disappointed, it’s the worst. I look around. “Where is he now?”
“On the phone with his sister,” Jase answers.
Devon’s eyebrows shoot up. “He has a sister?”
“Yeah, they don’t talk much.” Harley Isles is a kickass fighter and has lived in Thailand for the past eight years. She’s an absolute savage and does the family name proud. I have a feeling she and Seth have some kind of plan in the works, what with how much he seems to be talking to her recently, but that’s just my personal hunch, and until I hear anything from him, I’m keeping it to myself.
I start skipping, and after that, training passes quickly. My body is sore from the fight, but not so sore that anyone needs to baby me. Strangely, despite how much I enjoy locking myself away at the gym, today I’m eager to leave. It feels like days since I’ve seen Sydney, and I’m excited to kiss her and reassure myself this hasn’t all been a dream. The boys and I eat lunch together, and then return for another training session, this time working on our technique with pads and partner drills. We finish with an hour of jiu jitsu, and I shower and change as quickly as I can, but when I get the chance to call Sydney, I see she’s already messaged.
Sydney:Working a double shift. Can’t see you tonight. Hope training went well. XX
Disappointment floods me, and all the hype that I’ve built over the day crumbles. Man, this sucks. I’ve been getting myself through endless rounds of punches and push-ups by picturing her face and all the dirty things I intend to do to her once we’re alone. And now, nada. No bedroom antics for Sydney and me. At least she messaged. Imagine my disappointment if I’d gotten all of the way to her apartment only to find it empty.
A lead weight drops in my gut. Jesus, is this how she feels when I bail on her because of training, or when I’m so late she’s practically napping on her dinner plate by the time I get there?
If so, I’m a shitty person. But I’ll be better. For her, I have to be.
12
Gabe
Since I’ve got no hope of seeing Sydney, I head to Mama and Dad’s place instead. They own a white stone house not far from mine, and I knock on the door a little while after dinner time.
“Gabriel!” Mama beams up at me, her deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Even though she’s fifty this year, her crow’s feet are just beginning to form and only a few strands of gray have dared to show themselves amongst her mane of dark hair. She wraps me in a hug. She smells of paprika—no doubt from dinner—and lemon, from the soap she favors. “Hola.It’s so good to see you!” She squeezes me tighter as if it’s been months since I visited rather than a week or so. She stands back, holding onto my shoulders, studying my face. “You look good,mijo.You should have come earlier. I would have fed you.”
“I didn’t want to mess with your dinner plans.”
“Oh, please.” She swats my shoulder with one delicate hand. Another thing about my mama? She’s a good foot shorter than me. “You could never.” She steps aside to let me in. “There are leftovers if you want some.”
“No thanks,Mama.I’ve eaten.”
She sighs. “Why don’t you let me look after you anymore?”
