Page 66 of Fighting Spirit

“You never stop fuckin’ yapping. Figured if he couldn’t get a word in, then he might not piss me off so bad,” he says sardonically.

“Asshole.” I have to work to keep the smile out of my voice.

I wander into the bedroom and perch on the edge of my bed. I try not to think about the way the covers still smell like him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He’s quiet, like he doesn’t want to be overheard. Is someone with him? The roommate? “I just feel better when you’re around, I guess.”

Oh.

I don’t know what to say, how to deal with his openness except to try and match it. “I feel the same.”

I smile down the phone like a lovesick teenager. I have got to get a hold of myself. I love being Rowan’s friend, I can’t fuck it upor make it feel sour by pining over him like this. “I guess I could go.”

He clears his throat. “Okay, great. I’ll be there in like ten minutes?”

I bolt up at that, staring down at what I’m currently wearing. My sleep shirt hangs awkwardly off one shoulder, and my sweatpants bunch up around my knees like medieval pantaloons. “Ten?”

“Yeah, I’m just pulling into Allbreck now.”

“You were already on your way?”

“Yeah?”

“Rowan! Are you kidding me!” If this is going to be a pattern with him, then we need to have a very stern conversation about appropriate notice periods.

“What?” He sounds genuinely confused. “It’s a couple hours to Northridge. We need to get going.”

“I’m not dressed! What am I even meant to wear?”

“I dunno, what do you usually wear to games?” There’s a noise on the line, and I can definitely hear someone else in the background.

“A toad costume!” I hiss.

The stranger on Rowan’s end bursts into fits of laughter, and I can hear vague sounds of grunting and swearing.

“Whatever,” he all but growls. “Just don’t wear red. That’s what the Raleigh fans wear.”

“That’s really not helpful.”

“I don’t know, Ruth! Wear whatever you want, you always look fine.”

“High praise,” I say sourly.

“You know what I mean, you’re always pretty.”

“Thank you.” I huff, even as heat rises across my chest.

“I’m gonna go. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” The click of his blinker starts.

“Fine, bye.” I’m being a brat, but I don’t have it in me to feel bad. Picking me up with ten minutes notice is grounds for a bit of grumbling.

“Make sure you wear sunscreen!” the man who’s not Rowan yells right before the call disconnects.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

RUTH

Rowan’s familiar truck pulls up in front of where I’m sitting on the wall that rings the front of my building. I can see him arguing with a blond man in glasses who sits in the passenger seat. As I approach, the other man throws his head back in laughter while Rowan leans across him and pushes the door open. “Move,” Rowan says.

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