Page 75 of The Fighter

“Why?”

He took a sip of his coffee and eyed me over the rim. “Your sister is coming up here in fifteen minutes.”

That deflated my erection in a snap. I nearly dropped my coffee mug. “What?Fifteen minutes?”

“I texted her asking to come up. She said yes.”

“Con—”

“You have fifteen minutes to freak out. You can only get so worked up in that time. I figured any longer than that, and you’ll have a heart attack.”

I scowled at him. “I can freak out for hours without dying, actually.”

“Well you have fifteen minutes. As much as I don’t want you to shower, I suggest you go do that.”

I took off down the hallway toward the bedroom like a shot.

Conrad

I was surprised at just how much Tav could work himself up in fifteen minutes. By the time he stood in the living room, hair wet, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt—that had been inside out before I told him—he was red from his ears to his bare feet and was on his way to hyperventilating.

“Did she say anything?” He questioned me as I sat at the island drinking my second cup of coffee.

“I didn’t talk to her. I texted her.”

“What did she text back?” He made a grabby hand with his fingers. “Let me see it.”

I smacked him away. “No, because all she said was that she’d be up with Holden by ten.”

“Holden’s coming too?” His voice squeaked.

“Where the hell else would he be? Alone in the apartment at four years old?”

He gripped his hair and pulled. “Fuck.”

Thank God the doorbell rang, because I couldn’t take any more of his freak out. I opened it to find Amara standing on the other side wearing a pair of black leggings and a long sweatshirt with the sleeves covering all but the tips of her fingers. She wore a pair of clean white sneakers. The entire outfit was clothing I’d had purchased and placed in the apartment. It’d been on the floor last night, but Holden and I had made a game of folding it all and putting it away. Holden was at her side, wearing another dinosaur shirt and a pair of cotton pants that were a bit too short. I made a note to get his correct sizing later.

“Thanks for coming,” I said and motioned her inside.

She hesitated. Her nerves shone just like Tav’s—her face was flushed, and she vibrated with a quiet tension. “Uh, thanks.” She walked inside, Holden’s hand in hers.

The little boy grinned at me. “Hi Rad.”

Amara stopped and turned to me with a questioning look.

“Rad?” Tav stood at the head of the hallway.

I cleared my throat. “He seemed to only hear the end of my name when I introduced myself.”

“Mr. Rad,” Amara corrected Holden. “Call him Mr. Rad.”

“That’s not—” I began.

“Hi, Mr. Rad,” Holden beamed. He had dimples, just like Tav. Did he inherit any of his father’s genetics?

“Hello,” I answered Holden as we made our way further into the apartment.

Tav backed up, letting his sister pass him before he fell into step behind her. Amara took in the apartment, her neck craning this way and that before she headed right to the big windows lining one side of my living room. I remembered all those nights ago when her brother had done the same thing. I could still picture his silhouette in the dark.