Page 29 of Heal Me, Love Me

“Yeah. That’s what I said.” I chuckled slightly.

“Grant Bishop?” He looked from the screen back to me. “From Apex?”

I nodded.

“That’s huge,” he stated.

“It might not be anything.”

“It’s not nothing.”

I read the notification again. The words were still there:

Grant Bishop wants to send you a message

For all I knew, it was a generic congratulations message he sent to a lot of fighters, but that didn’t change what was on my screen.

Grant Bishop sentmea message.

“Are you going to open it?” Keaton asked.

“Yeah.” I stared at the notification for another second. “Just making sure I’m not hallucinating.”

“If you are, I’m seeing it too.”

I snorted. “Good. Then we’re both losing it.”

But we weren’t seeing things. I tapped the notification, and Grant’s message request opened, Keaton reading it with me:

Rowan, hell of a performance last night. I’d like to discuss representation if you’re open to it. No pressure, but I see a bigger future for you if you want it.

I read it once, then twice more because the words refused to sink in.

Keaton cleared his throat. “You should answer him.”

I looked at him. “You mean that?”

“Hell yeah.”

“You’re not just saying that because you think you’re supposed to?”

His gaze held mine. “No. I’m saying it because you had a good fight and earned the right to be represented too.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath, accepted the request, and typed a message back to Grant:

Thanks for reaching out. I’d be open to a conversation

I hit send before I could delete it and stared at the sent message, expecting panic to hit.

It didn’t.

Not the way I’d expected.

Maybe because answering Grant wasn’t about getting away from anything. It was about giving myself another option.

I still didn’t know where I’d train, but maybe Grant Bishop could help with that problem.

I slipped my phone into my pocket. “I’m going back to my parents’ after this.”