Mason pointed to his legs. “I am stretched.”
“Go be stretched somewhere else,” Devon ordered.
Mason backed away, still watching, because apparently minding his own business was not a skill he trained for.
Keaton stayed locked on Devon. “You didn’t tell me we were getting a new roommate.”
Devon shrugged. “I don’t run my rentals by you.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Keaton snapped, then jabbed a finger toward me without taking his eyes off Devon. “Of all the fighters, you had to rent tohim.”
My chest squeezed at the way he said it, as if he couldn’t say my name.
“If you’ve got personal drama, keep it out of the gym and out of my rental. Rowan needs a room. There’s a room. That’s it.”
Keaton snorted. “That’s it?”
“It is,” Devon replied.
Keaton finally looked me straight in the eye. “You’re actually going to do this? Live with me?”
“I need a place to stay,” I answered. “Devon offered. I took it, not knowing it was with you.”
Devon’s voice dropped a notch. “We’re about to start training. You can take this outside afterward if you want. Right now, you’re both on my floor.”
Keaton groaned. “I’m not living with him.”
“Then move,” Devon said.
Keaton stared at him. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “You’re month-to-month. If you want out, get out. If you want to stay, act like an adult.”
Keaton’s eyes flashed to me again. “You don’t get to disappear for four years and then walk back in like it’s no big deal.”
Something in my gut twisted. “I’m not. I didn’t know you trained here.”
Hell, I didn’t know he’d taken up fighting either. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been dressed in all black, wearing nail polish to match, and listening to bands like My Chemical Romance, Black Veil Brides, and Sleeping With Sirens. But as I looked down at his clenched hands, I saw his nails were still painted that inky color he loved, so maybe he hadn’t changed much in the last several years.
Keaton’s lips parted as if he had a hundred things to throw at me, then Devon cut in.
“Enough,” he warned. “I’m not doing this right now. Rowan gets the room. Keaton, you can be mad later. Mason, stop eavesdropping.”
Mason sighed and walked off, but he kept glancing back as if he couldn’t help himself.
“All right,” Devon shouted. “Time for drills.”
People started moving closer, everyone sliding into their normal warm-up routine as if nothing had just happened.
Keaton moved first, heading toward the center.
I followed as Devon started giving instructions.
“Circle up. Let’s go.”
I slipped off my shoes and stepped onto the mat, trying to focus on the familiar feel of it under my feet, rather than the fact that Keaton was a few feet away. The effort of trying not to look at him made the wordroommatethrob in my brain.
As we all sat, Mason dropped down next to me, grinning brightly again, as if the drama had recharged him.
