Page 112 of On the Ropes
“I know,” Rowan said. “You don’t think a ton of retired athletes would have contemplated taking that offer? It’s a tempting one. What I do now, the satisfaction’s all internal. There’s no flash. No crowds of cheering fans. It’s less of an adrenaline rush, for sure. Lately though? It’s hard to see the appeal of that old life.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t miss sitting in an ice bath after every game?”
His response was a wolfish grin. “About as much as you miss getting your teeth knocked out on a Saturday night.”
I snorted, tapping my fingers on the table. “How’s the pay here?”
“Terrible.”
“And the hours?”
“Long. Plus I’ve heard there’s another, possibly more attractive ex-athlete that already works here. Could make you jealous.”
I shook my head with a smile. “Something tells me your director is going to regret putting the two of us together.”
He waved that off. “No way. Something tells me that the two of us working together could bring some great programs to this neighborhood.”
I swallowed hard, overcome by his generosity. “I want this job, Rowan.”
He nodded. “Good. It’s all yours. And you’ve already got Eddie signed up.”
I released another tightly held breath. “Harry’s gonna have my head when I tell him the news. But also I’ve been wanting to fire him for years so maybe this call won’t be that bad after all.”
Rowan whistled low under his breath. “I let go of mine a couple years ago. Best decision I ever made.”
A space was shifting and opening around the center of my chest. “It sounds like that’ll be the next one I make.”
I glanced over at the note stuck on Rowan’s computer. It was impossible not to remember Tabitha that first night, telling me about her passion in life: I like to tell stories about wildflowers growing through sidewalks, basically. All the things that take up space, demanding attention and justice in the face of larger forces trying to make them silent or invisible.
“What really happened with Tabitha?” Rowan asked.
I leaned back in the chair. “Exactly what I knew would happen. And what she told me would happen from the beginning. We had a lot of sex. Had a lot of fun. She obviously didn’t get attached, a promise that she kept.” An uneasy sadness filled that newly open space in my chest. I’d done what I was supposed to do—gotten laid, didn’t stress about it. I’d still known the ending this whole time, so why was I so upset? “This morning, she seemed to feel bad about us not talking about, you know, ending things when she went to Texas. Because we weren’t on the same page. I made sure she knew I was fine with it.”
I knew from the tears in her eyes as I left there was something she wasn’t telling me. She’d projected that bubbly cheer my way, and I knew she was faking it. I just didn’t know what she was keeping to herself, which hurt more than all the rest.
Rowan muttered a curse under his breath, snagging my attention. There were two spots of color in his cheeks. “Now it’s time for me to admit that I fucked up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I pushed you into this,” he said. “Pushed you to hook up with Tabitha when you told me you didn’t think it’d work out the way you wanted. I knew…” Rowan blew out a breath. “I knew from the moment you started talking to her again that she wasn’t just some old crush from when we were kids. Tabitha is—always was—different for you. I feel like I gave you the kind of advice you’d want for some one-night stand with a stranger. Not the woman you’re in love with.”
My eyes darted to the ground. “It’s not your fault. Not one bit. Once I kissed her, that night at the art museum, there was no other option for me. Falling in love with her was my mistake to make.”
The words ripped through my throat, but I felt better, saying them out loud.
Rowan was quiet for a while. So quiet I wondered if I’d pissed him off. But he was looking at something on his computer, lines creasing his forehead. “Dean.”
“Yeah?”
He cleared his throat. “You, uh…you know I love you, yeah?”
I clapped him on the arm. “Of course. I love you too.”
“You made the right call, quitting boxing when you did,” he said in a tentative voice. “But it’s been hard, seeing you kinda lost. Seeing you feel worthless when you’re not. I pushed you with Tabitha because all of a sudden you were happy again. Not happy like when you were pros. Happy like what we were telling Tabitha the other night, before we were athletes and we were only kids.”
I swallowed thickly. I knew what he meant. “Carefree.”
“Am I wrong?”
