Dropping Gloves by Catherine Gayle Read Free Book Online

mentor the way Zee had done with me, but that hadn’t happened, and here I was. Alone. And it was weird. Maybe I should get a pet. But if I did that, I’d have to figure out what to do with it when I left on road trips with the team. I couldn’t just leave an animal alone here for a week or more at a time.
    After taking Katie home, I’d come back to my place and gone through my fridge to figure out what I would eat for dinner. I’d never been much of a cook. A few years back, I’d finally learned how to make coffee that didn’t burn, overflow the coffeemaker, or kill someone. That had been a first step. These days, I had a small arsenal of things I could make using one of four appliances—a Keurig, a microwave, a waffle iron, and a toaster oven. A couple of years ago, I’d asked Will Archer, the team chef, to teach me how to feed myself in the easiest ways possible. He’d tried to convince me he could teach me to use the stove and oven, but I figured it was safer to start small and work my way up. Those were the appliances we’d settled on, and he’d given me some lessons and basic recipes to follow. I actually ate pretty well, even if my cooking skills were limited.
    The guys all laughed and teased me about why I’d bothered buying a house with a big chef’s kitchen if I was afraid of most of the things in it. If you were cooking for one, though, there wasn’t any good reason to heat up a whole big oven when the toaster oven could do the job.
    I took out some fresh asparagus, a lemon, and a jar of already-minced garlic, grabbed a couple of tilapia fillets from the freezer and tossed them in the sink to thaw, and set to work preparing my meal. After I had the fish and veg in the toaster oven, I put couscous in a bowl under the Keurig spout and got that cooking. In less than twenty minutes, I had a full, balanced meal—and I’d made it all myself.
    I’d just sat down in front of the TV with my plate, ready to eat while catching up on Black Sails , when my phone buzzed again. I dug it out of my pocket and swiped a thumb over the screen to find another text from Webs.
     
    What the hell did you do? Why is Katie holed up in her room and crying?
     
    Well, fuck. I’d known that telling her what I had would hurt her, and I’d been fully aware that it would land me on the wrong side of her father’s ire, but knowing it and being prepared for the guilt turning my stomach to lead were two very different things. It would have been easier to deal with if I didn’t know she was crying. Webs probably realized that. Hell, it might be why he’d told me, hoping to make my guilt match his helplessness. I wasn’t going to take back any of the things I’d said, though, regardless of her tears or anything he might try to do to punish me for whatever crimes he thought I’d committed against her.
    I set my plate on the coffee table and typed a response on my phone.
     
    Me: I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear.
     
    Webs: You think I’m going to take that as an answer and be okay with it?
     
    Me: Seriously. I just told her I couldn’t hang out with her and act like everything’s all right anymore. I’m not okay.
     
    Webs: Well, damn.
     
    Me: Well, damn?
     
    Webs: I hoped she would figure out she wants to be with you before you decided not to let her string you along anymore. That’s all.
     
    I didn’t have the first clue how to respond to that. Maybe it didn’t need a response at all.
    My doorbell rang, and I tossed my phone on the coffee table next to my dinner before getting up to answer it.
    Levi came in as soon as I opened the door. He sniffed the air. “Smells good. Have enough for me?”
    “If you make your own.” I followed him down the hall.
    He veered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, stared for a moment, shook his head, and then headed to the pantry to get the fixings for peanut butter sandwiches.
    I left him to it and went back to my meal.
    A minute later, he joined me with three sandwiches on