sorts but somehow still managed to look good.
The group exchanged a few glances with one another, all of us obviously unsure about what he’d said.
“Forgive me,” Taylor said. “I’m not sure I heard you right. Could you repeat that?”
“Ransom,” he said, carefully pronouncing each sound.
“Did your parents kidnap you?” Aamee asked, seeming genuinely curious.
Ransom tilted his head like a golden retriever. “If they kidnapped me, would they even be my parents?”
Aamee nodded slowly. “Solid question.”
“Oh shit!” Carter’s eyes lit up as if he’d put together two pieces of a puzzle only he could see. “I knew I’d heard that name before. You’re Ransom Holt, aren’t you? You were an undrafted free agent from Ohio two years ago.”
“I’m impressed,” Ransom said. “You know your ball.”
“He’s the one I told you about who plays for Lazarus,” Brody said, motioning to Carter.
“Yeah, man. I was shocked you didn’t get picked up. And it was your knee that went, right?”
“Yup,” Ransom said. “Two surgeries later, and it’s still not right. But it’s all good. I’m in a master’s program for sports medicine now, which will allow me to still be involved in the game.”
“Told you,” Brody said. “Super smart. I knew you guys would like Rans.” Only Brody would be on a nickname basis with someone he’d only met one day earlier. “I was supposed to meet him at the pool again tonight, but then it was getting late and we were still working here, so I figured I’d just invite him here for a drink instead.”
“Were you going to tell me any of this?” Aamee asked.
Brody shrugged like it was no big deal. “Doesn’t matter now. We’re all here together. One big, happy family.” He’d already had an arm around Ransom, and he brought the other up and put it on Aamee’s shoulder.
Aamee rolled her eyes. “You’d better be careful your wife doesn’t find out about your new boyfriend.”
S O P H I A
“I brought you a muffin,” Jake said.
I lifted my gaze from my computer screen long enough to glare at him, hoping it would be enough of a warning. Preferring to ignore his existence entirely, I’d barely spoken to him since he’d pilfered the Yard’s name and presented it as his own stroke of creative genius.
“I’m not hungry.”
He approached my space like one might a caged lion who hadn’t eaten a meal lately, and if he wasn’t careful, I might bite his fucking head off. “I’ll just leave this here then in case you want something later?”
I don’t know why he said it as a question, because he put the paper bag down on the table without waiting for me to respond. Someone needed to teach him a lesson about consent, but that person sure as hell wouldn’t be me because that would involve interacting with him.
It was bad enough Carole had tasked us both with working on the same project—a gym opening within the city limits—though I’d done a pretty good job of breaking it up so that I could communicate with him as little as possible. I’d decided to organize the majority of the promotional plan, and Jake didn’t fight me when I suggested he be the one to research local competitors.
With the exception of the clicking of the mouse or keyboard, we’d both worked in relative silence for another hour or so. I’d noticed Jake’s eyes dart across the table to me a few times like he wanted to say something but thankfully decided against it.
“You wanna take a look at this when you get a minute?” he finally asked.
Nope.
“Take a look at what?”
“I was comparing other gyms that cater mainly to women, and most of them seem to emphasize that they won’t be surrounded by big dudes lifting and grunting and all that shit. I’m not a woman. Obviously. So I’m just wondering why this angle would appeal to the female demographic.”
He couldn’t possibly be this stupid. “Do you really not know, or are you just asking because you want me to talk to you?” The second part came out a bit more narcissistic than I’d intended, but it was too late to amend it now.
“Well…it’d be nice if you spoke to me more than the bare minimum, but I honestly don’t get why it’s so important for women to be mainly with other women. I’d think that all those guys would be too self-involved to notice or care about what other people are doing, especially women. If they’re paying attention to someone else, I’d assume it’d