Page 46 of The Clinch
“Depends,” I say.
He snorts. “That’s a yes.”
I step inside his space, stop short of contact. “You bringing the twins?”
His face softens immediately. “Jess says yes. I say God help us.” He feints. “They’ve started cryin’ in shifts.”
“Weaponized teamwork.”
“Exactly.” He backs up, grinning. “Nate’s got his place. Dmitri’s hosting too. Whole crew’s splitting up like a military operation.”
I don’t answer. Just move. Redirect. Keep it light.
“You good?” he asks lightly.
“Yeah.”
He watches me another second, gloves half off. “That’s not your face when you’re good.”
I don’t answer.
His mouth twitches. “Right. So it’s either career stuff or girl stuff.”
“Move or leave,” I say.
He laughs under his breath. “That’s girl stuff.”
My phone buzzes on the bench.
Finn clocks it. “You gonna get that, or should I keep embarrassin’ myself?”
I step back, grab the towel, wipe my hands. The screen lights up.
“Your wife.”
Finn’s already pulling his gloves off. “Go on,” he says. “Before she starts wonderin’ if I kicked you dead.”
I laugh once, then answer the phone.
“Okay,” she says without a preamble. “Here’s where we are.”
I lean back against the cinderblock wall, cool seeping through my shirt. The gym hums around me. Distant traffic. A radiator knocking somewhere behind the lockers.
“Media upgraded your relationship. They’re reporting ‘fiancée.’”
I can still feel the shape of her mouth from last night.Fiancéeis not a word I should be able to connect to the taste of her mouth this fast.
“What’s Elliot saying?”
“He loves the optics.” No hesitation. “He thinks it humanizes you. Makes you look… settled.”
I huff once. “I am settled.”
“You know what I mean.”
She keeps going. “Two sponsors already asked if she’ll be at the next appearance. One of them wants a photo that’s less… nightlife. More domestic.”
The idea pulls tight inside me.
