Plus, cooking was something I could control. There was an order to the kitchen I hadn’t had the first seven years of my life, constantly moving with my parents. A comfort to standing beside the stove with my grandma, digging her handwritten recipes from the box she’d had for forty years, moving through the same steps she’d followed hundreds of times before to get the same delicious result.
For the most part, I still found that comfort in any kitchen. No matter if a hotheaded chef was screaming in my face or a dozen tickets were fired at once. I’d lost sight of it these past few months but desperately wanted it back.
“What was the other part?” he asked.
I shrugged. “My grandma, mostly. And I just liked it.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after your grandma died. The way you’ve been for me.”
The heaviness of his voice had me pause with the sanitizing rag. He’d stopped mopping and stared at me with sincerity in his vibrant blue eyes.
It was true he hadn’t been there for me in the same way back then—no phone calls or long messages. But I hadn’t expected him to be. We weren’t friends at the time. He’d been away for some training camp or international match when she died, and it wasn’t like he’d been close enough with my grandma to fly all the way back for the funeral. There were other people whose absence I felt abandoned by, but his wasn’t one of them.
“It’s okay,” I said with all the weight I could push into my voice. “You were here for me tonight.”
In this silly way, Gabe showing up here reminded me of this summer when Jase had dropped everything and run from the restaurant to save Dani from what they feared had been a stalker. It had turned out to be something else, and she hadn’t needed saving, but that hadn’t mattered in the moment.
Jase had been there. The same way Gabe had been here tonight.
I didn’t expect him to fall in love with me the way Jase did Dani or for this to mean anything beyond the boundaries we’d already laid out. But it felt good to have someone drop everything for me, even if I hadn’t really needed saving either.
His mouth lifted in a weak smile, his eyes going back to the mop. Somehow, I got the feeling he didn’t think it was enough.
Chapter Fifteen
Gabe
I slappedan envelope with two tickets into Noah’s hand. “Tell your dad thanks again for me.”
He tucked the envelope into his back pocket. “He’s excited to see you in action again.” Neither of them had seen me compete live, but he and his dad had watched a bunch of my fight tapes from before I retired.
“Here’s hoping I don’t disappoint.” Boxing was—or at least used to be—the one area I usually didn’t.
The slam of the front door rang across the gym, and Noah glanced out of the office to see who it was. He broke into a shit-eating grin. “Your girl is here.”
I tamped down my facial expression as my heart set off at a sprint, and my shoulders snapped straight as if a rod had been shoved down my spine.
He laughed at my sudden nerves. “I knew it. You’re so into this chick.” He peeked toward the front again. “Holy shit, she’s hot.”
I pointed at the door. “You’re leaving.”
“What? No way. I wanna meet her.”
That much couldn’t be avoided at this point, but I could make it the shortest introduction possible. “You say hi, and that’s it.”
He beamed as Aubrey stepped into the office wearing a short ruffled skirt and leather jacket with a soft-looking sweater underneath. A small paper bag hung from her fingertips.
“Oh,” she said, surprised to see Noah. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re good,” I said. “Noah was heading out.”
He thrust his hand toward her for a shake. “I’m Noah, Gabe’s fighter.”
“Soon to be,” I said. “Once he’s done winning the Olympics.” There was no keeping the pride from my voice.
“I heard about that,” Aubrey said as she shook his hand. “Congratulations. I’m Aubrey.”
Noah grinned. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll see you around while I’m training?—”
