Page 26

Roman

I still can’t wrap my head around how fast my life flipped.

One minute I’m at a wedding, fully prepared to hook up with one—maybe even two—bridesmaids, and the next.

.. there’s a woman living in my apartment.

Not just any woman. Her . The one I can't stop thinking about, the one whose laugh echoes in my head during practice, and whose smile makes me count the hours until I’m back home.

When we’re on the road, being away from her actually hurts. Like, physically. Which should freak me the hell out. But instead, it kind of feels right in the most dangerous way.

Gabby’s settled in like she’s always belonged here.

At first, she only drove the car I bought to Tanner and Maeve’s place.

But now she’s exploring the city like a local, hitting up the coffee shops, checking out fabric stores.

I keep catching glimpses of bold, bright fabric, but she still hasn’t shown me what she’s been working on.

From the colors, I hope it’s not some custom jockstraps. Although if she made it, I’d wear it.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say to Tanner as I reach for the car door.

He gives me a look. “Didn’t you buy a car?”

I laugh. “Yeah, well... Gabby’s using it. To help you out, remember?”

“True.” He smirks. “Stella’s obsessed with her.”

“Any luck finding a full-time nanny?” I ask casually, even though deep down, I’m not exactly rooting for them to replace Gabby. She’s glowing these days. Smiling like babysitting Stella is her favorite hobby. Though, that could just be from all the really good sex.

“We’re still interviewing,” Tanner says. “It’s a nightmare. If you ever plan on having kids, start now. Get on waitlists. Tour some schools.”

I stare at him like he’s just grown a second head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Wish I was. We got lucky with Mom in the beginning. Your parents would totally help you guys out, too. I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, instantly tense. The world thinks my parents are the picture of perfection. When doing interviews, they’re the golden couple. Only my brother and I know what the cameras never see. And it’s a brutal reminder of why I swore off marriage. Off family.

“Wait a second,” I snap, shaking my head. “I’m not having kids. I don’t even know why I let you drag me into this conversation.”

Tanner just grins. “Oh, but you did . Might want to ask yourself why, Romeo.”

“Fuck off,” I laugh, but I’m grinning too, because maybe the guy has a point.

“Hey, be nice to the guy driving you around,” Tanner says, giving me a look.

“Okay, Dad .”

“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath.

“But the nice kind of asshole, remember?” I flash him a grin.

“Good night, Roman,” he says, laughing. Then, just before I close the door, he tosses in, “Go home to your girl. I know I’m itching to get home to my family too.”

My Girl.

Family.

Those words linger in the air and curl around me.

I guess people do kind of see Gabby as my girl—family.

She lives with me, after all. Sure, we’ve been keeping things quiet.

She’s not exactly eager to end up on someone’s Instagram story with me.

But I’d have to be an idiot to think the guys haven’t pieced it together.

The truth is I’ve never felt better. No random flings.

No morning-after awkwardness. Just... happiness.

Peace. My game’s sharper, my head’s clearer.

Now I get why half the team is either proposing or already hitched.

They figured it out long before I did. This whole “being with one person who actually means something” thing.

It’s not a trap. It’s a freaking cheat code.

Not that I’m getting engaged or anything. Let’s not get carried away. Marriage ruins everything, and if I ever forget that, my kid brother would be more than happy to remind me and I’d be grateful for that.

Right now, I’m just living in this moment with Gabby, her sewing machine humming in the background, that little wrinkle in her forehead when she’s deep in a sketch, her soft laugh when I say something stupid.

She’s rebuilding, and I’m... I don’t even know what I’m doing, but it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I make my way up to the building, and Stephen, our doorman, beats me to the door.

“How are you this evening, Roman?” he asks, pulling his coat tighter against the wind.

“Doing great. You?”

“Great as well. Just counting the days till spring.”

I laugh. “Yeah. Same.”

Only... am I? Spring means time is moving. And if time keeps moving, it means Gabby might be ready to move out. And the thought of that hits harder than it should.

“Gabby dropped off cinnamon rolls today,” Stephen says, smiling.

That stops me.

Cinnamon rolls?

When I talked to her earlier, she said she went from Tanner’s to the grocery store, then home.

No mention of The Nook. Not that she owes me a play-by-play of her day, but.

.. the omission sits weird. Not bad-weird.

Just... off. Maybe it’s nothing. Or maybe it’s the fact that Theo—Mr. Gossip Column himself—was sniffing around again, asking when Gabby was heading back to herfiancé.

If that guy spent half as much time on his game as he did stalking teammates’ personal lives, he might not be on the trading block. Though, honestly, I can’t wait for him to be gone. Rip joining the Bucks is going to be a game-changer.

And as for Gabby, I really don’t want her to go anywhere.

But I don’t have a say. Or do I? I mean, she ran out on her fiancé a month ago, a guy Theo thinks she’s going back to, because a girl like her wants the princess and the castle, a man who can give her everything she wants—and what she wants is a career in fashion.

I shake my head. I have to be tired— exhausted —if I’m letting Theo’s bullshit take up space in my brain.

I head for the elevator and tap through my messages while I wait.

One from my brother. I pocket my phone with a mental note to hit him back later, just as the doors slide open on my floor.

My steps echo down the hallway, fast and heavy, like I’m chasing something.

Or maybe someone. I slide the key in the lock and push through the door.

“Gabby?” I call out, moving past the kitchen. My eyes flick toward the counter. There’s a pot bubbling on the stove. Some kind of sauce. Smells amazing, but not what I was subconsciously searching for.

Fuck off, Theo. Stay out of my head.

“In here,” Gabby calls. Her voice is warm and easy, like a light flicking on inside me. She steps into the hallway before I can reach the den, and when I see her, messy bun, a tape measure over her shoulder, bare feet, I swear something inside me settles.

She opens her arms like she’s been waiting for me all day, and yeah, I walk right into them. No hesitation. Her arms loop around me, soft and certain, and suddenly I’m not tired anymore. Just home.

“You’re back early,” she murmurs, her cheek brushing my jaw.

“Yeah. Tanner drives like a man on a mission when he’s trying to get back to his family.”

Family.

There it is again. That word. Always popping up lately, like the universe is trying to tell me something I’ve been fighting forever.

She pulls back a little, but her hands stay on my chest. “Speaking of family,” she starts, “I had a nice talk with my parents tonight.”

My chest tightens a notch.

“They’d love to come visit. Or maybe even have me come home for a bit...” Her nose scrunches, like she’s searching, conflicted. “I told them I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. Not yet.”

She doesn’t say it, but I know what’s lingering under those words. Cass. She’s still worried about him showing up. About what he might say. About what he might convince her to do. And yeah, that thought lands like a sucker punch to my gut.

Does she still love him?

I mean, love like that doesn’t just vanish overnight, right? And if she’s still holding pieces of him in her heart... where is the room for me?

Is that what you want, Roman?

I don’t know but I do know that she hasn’t mentioned him, not once, and I’m not about to be the one who brings that ghost back into the room.

“I’m sure you miss them, Gabs,” I say gently, lifting a hand to her face. Her skin’s warm beneath my thumb as I brush it across her cheek.

“I do,” she says, blinking like her thoughts are far away. Then her eyes flick back to mine, a little more focused. “You must miss yours too. I’ve been here a whole month, and you haven’t talked about them. Haven’t even called.”

My shoulders lock up before I can stop them.

Shit.

I just got home. I’m tired. I don’t want to gothere .

She picks up on it. Because of course she does. Gabby’s sharp like that. She doesn’t push. Just slips on that soft, sunny smile like armor for both of us.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she says. “I made pasta.”

I press a hand to my stomach and grin. “Starved.”

Not just for food. For this. For her. For the way she makes everything else fade into the background, even the parts of me I’ve tried to forget.

“Good,” she whispers, and rises up on her toes to kiss me.

It starts soft, familiar, like muscle memory, and just when she’s about to pull away, I slide my hands around her waist and hold her there.

Tighter.

Closer.

Because right now, in this exact second, I don’t want to let her go.

Ever.

Goddammit.

She lets out a small laugh against my mouth, and I break the kiss fast as fear jolts through me.

I can’t let myself fall for a woman who is only here a short time, a woman who might hold another man in her heart.

Her brows lift slightly in surprise, but she doesn’t call me on it.

Just gives me an out with a simple nod toward the hallway.

“There’s some mail on the side table,” she says casually. “Pretty sure one is a wedding invitation.”

I cross to the hall and flip through the envelopes. “Taylor and Elias,” I murmur, my heart tripping all over itself. “They’re getting married in Vegas.”

“Didn’t they already getmarried in Vegas?” she asks, smiling.

“Yeah. They didn’t realize what they were doing the first time. Now they want to redo it with their family and friends.”

She laughs, a soft, musical sound that settles in my chest. “It’s wild how life just... works itself out sometimes, huh?”

“Yeah.” I rip into it. “I have a plus one.” She frowns and my throat grows tight. Of course, she’s not going to go back to the hotel where she was supposed to get married.

Neither of us say anything for a moment, and then she threads her fingers through mine and tugs me gently toward the kitchen, away from her sewing room and whatever secret project she’s hiding from me in there. I tell myself it’s just fabric and thread she’s hiding. Nothing more.

It has to be.

We step into the kitchen and I inhale the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering on the stove. “Damn, Gabs. Smells incredible in here. You’ve been busy.”

She beams. “Oh, did you know our grocery store started stocking Gina’s cinnamon rolls?”

I blink.“Really?”

She laughs, her voice light and full of mischief. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you home any. You kind of told me not to.”

I rub my stomach, but it’s not hunger I’m feeling—it’s something else. Something lighter.

“Look at you, looking out for me.”

She bumps my shoulder, and her eyes are full of that quiet, playful twinkle that makes my chest tighten in the best way. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Maybe not the least,” I say, grinning as I turn off the pot, then scoop her up without warning. She squeals in surprise. “While you think on that,” I tease. “I’m going to show you just how well I can look out for you.”