Page 12 of The Red-Hot Stakes

“Thatta girl.”

The sweet dessert and the kind gesture kept me from freezing fully. I expected Liam to bring up my almost-breakdown to the others, but he never did. Not during dinner all together in Derek’s apartment. Not when we all lugged my stuff to Avery’s storage unit. Not while we unloaded my things or worked to find places to put each item.

By the time we were done, my arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat, so I rode home with it propped up on the console. As Liam pulled into the apartment complex, I tried to muster some excitement about living with my best friend again. But I couldn’t quite manage it.

“Listen, if you ever need some space, my place is always open. Just a floor away.” Liam’s words were gruff. He didn’t even wait for me to acknowledge them before he hopped out of the truck.

I was too tired to try to figure him out, so I filed the offer away for later as I trudged to the elevator. He stepped in, punching his button first, then mine. The elevator stopped on the third floor, and he strode out, not even saying goodbye.

“Thank you,” I called loudly, determined to make him hear me.

He tossed a hand in the air without looking back.

* * * *

Derek and Avery had been engaged since February. Here it was mid-September, yet they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, though they tried for my sake. While it was awkward and painful to watch them share affection, it was worse seeing them try to hide it from me.

On Thursday morning, I emerged from my bedroom, only for them to leap apart mid-kiss, and I’d had enough. “Okay, I know and you know that you touch each other. You kiss each other. You’re in love, for crying out loud. You don’t need to do acrobatics every time I make an appearance. Seriously.”

Avery frowned. “We just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

“Well, walking into a room and seeing you two jump apart like you’ve been caught canoodling by your prissy grandma isn’t helping. Just calm down and be yourselves, all right? You’re going to get hurt, all that jerking and twitching.”

Derek snorted, and Avery elbowed him. He handed her a coffee mug, then kissed her soundly. A happy sigh slid out of her when he pulled away.

Even though I’d told them I was fine, even though I wanted them to act normal, pain still stabbed at me as I watched them. I didn’t let it show, moving instead to get my own coffee. The frigid blackness inside me beckoned, and I edged deeper into its embrace. Here, there was no pain.

Here, I was safe.

Avery settled at the table, pouring her usual French Vanilla creamer and swirling it around with a spoon. “Is a hot dog a sandwich?”

I stopped mid-pour to stare at my best friend. I’d forgotten about her goofy morning habit of asking ridiculous questions before she’d had her coffee.

Derek just raised his mug to his lips, then cocked his head. “I don’t know, Cupcake. What do you think?”

It was too early for a debate, so I took my coffee to my room. I had homework to do before work.

* * * *

I was almost late for my shift that night, my first since the accident. I arrived just as the clock hit five, hurrying to punch in.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”

Avery’s apartment was further away, and I hadn’t planned for the extra distance. Luckily, the karaoke rush hadn’t hit yet, so we weren’t slammed. I ignored her, rushing off to shove my purse and jacket in my cubby.

I said a quick hello to Wyatt, who beamed. I loved how tight me and my coworkers were. In the few years I’d been here, I’d gotten to know them well.

Voices echoed on the stairwell. I finished washing my hands in time to see Liam emerge with Mr. Weston. What could they possibly be talking about?

After they shook hands, Liam noticed me, and a hint of panic flared in his gaze. “Gina, hey.” He nodded firmly at Mr. Weston, who sighed before trudging back upstairs.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, that. Um.” Liam peeked once more at the stairs before he crossed the kitchen. “I was making sure Weston knew how serious I was about that OSHA complaint. He promised to get the floor fixed next week.”

His words were too casual. I followed him to the bar, studying him as he perched on a bar stool. His lips pressed together, and he couldn’t sit still.

“You okay?” I asked, a little worried.

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