Page 116 of Vegas Heat

But I never truly saw the end coming with Gabby.

I’ve only been in Vegas a week. It feels like a fucking decade.

I just want time to pass so I can get back on the field and get over all this and get my mind right again.

But time is a cruel bitch that steals so much from us, and my only choice is to wait it out.

The doorbell rings as I’m finishing up breakfast, and I set my dishes in the sink before I head over to answer. I peek through the peephole in case it’s a salesman, though in this gated neighborhood that would be fairly unusual.

And when I peek through that peephole, I spot someone I’m utterly shocked to see standing there.

Maybe even more shocked than seeing Stacy standing in Troy’s driveway yesterday.

I open the door, and I glance at his shirt. I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Spongebob,” I say in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, uh, I’m here to see Gabby. Is she around?”

My brows shoot up in confusion as a pulse of relief seems to shoot through my spine. “She didn’t spend the night with you?”

His brows dip and a shock of something seems to flash in his eyes, like he’s supposed to play the part and he’s not…but then he glances away from me as he shakes his head. “Uh, no. I guess I’ll just talk to her later.”

He scampers away, and I’ll admit I’m just the tiniest bit worried about her since she didn’t come home last night and she wasn’t with the number one suspect. But I also know she has a lot of friends here. Hell, the night I met her, she was out with friends. My best guess is she spent the night at one of their places, and she’ll be back soon.

I’m not wrong.

I do the dishes and set them in the dishwasher, and then I make a plan for my day. I grab my laptop to study some more film, but first I send out a few texts to friends seeing if anyone wants to meet for some high stakes gambling tonight at Caesars. I get hits back from a few friends.

And it’s as I’m texting with Danny on the couch in the family room when I hear her truck pull up.

Troy isn’t home, and my best guess is that he spent the night at the club with Joanie again.

It’ll be just the two of us, and I’m not sure what to do with that.

The door opens, and she walks in. She’s wearing the same clothes she wore yesterday, and she looks exhausted…like she drank way too much last night and is suffering the consequences this morning because of it. The usual sunshine that surrounds her seems to be missing today.

“Good morning,” I mutter, unable to muster up any sort of sunshine myself.

“Hey,” she grunts.

“You need some ibuprofen?” I ask, a little teasing in my tone.

“I can get them.” She pads over to the cabinet where Troy keeps medicine in the kitchen and helps herself to a few pills. She disappears up the stairs, and I hear the shower running.

I open my laptop and watch some footage from games with Rush Ross as I figure out where we’d want him in our line-up. He’s not a closer, but depending who we pick up from the draft, he’ll probably fill either our number one or number two spot with his fastball.

I’m pausing and zooming in on one of his pitches when Gabby walks back into the room over an hour later.

“Feeling better?” I ask, closing my laptop lid and setting it beside me.

“A little,” she says absently. “I laid down for a bit after my shower, and now I’m just hungry.”

“Want me to make you something?” I ask, getting up from the couch and walking toward the kitchen behind her.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.

I shrug. “You seem like you might’ve had a rough night.”

“Yeah, lots of drinking with Justin.”

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