Luca (Chicago Blaze 2)

Abby cringes. “That’s so gross but it sounds like he deserved it.”

“Wish I could’ve seen him open it.”

“Hey, whatever happened with your teammate and the tattoo thing?”

I smile gleefully. “Vic is now sporting a tat of a masturbating monkey.”

“What?” Abby laughs heartily, and I love the sound.

“Yep. We took lots of photos as he got it. He’s flipping us off in most of them. Didn’t think we’d actually make him go through with it.”

“So where did he decide to get the…masturbating monkey?”

“It’s on his ass cheek. And I laugh my ass off every time I see it in the locker room.”

“You’re terrible.” She laughs again.

We finish our drinks and food and decide to walk to the pizza place, which is less than a mile away. Abby looks so pretty in the lights of the city that I reach for her hand and hold it as we walk.

Gianulli’s is a small place with white tile floors, red walls and barstools lined up around every table. It’s busy, but we find a small table and have just placed our order when my phone rings from inside my pocket.

I’m assuming it’s Jack wanting to FaceTime again—he never gets enough of it, and I’m planning to ignore the request and text him that I’m busy, but when I look at the screen, I see it’s actually Sheila calling.

I’m immediately concerned. In all the time she’s been babysitting for me, Sheila has never called me. She can handle just about anything.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I tell Abby across our table.

“It’s no problem.”

“Sheila?”

“Luca.” Her voice is tinged with worry. “Everything’s okay, but we’ve got an injury I think we need to go to the hospital for. I’ve got the paperwork you gave me that says I can authorize treatment, but I thought I should let you know first.”

“What’s going on?”

“Cora got into a fight with a neighborhood boy. There’s a deep cut in one of her eyebrows and I can’t get the bleeding to stop. I think she needs stitches.”

Sheila’s voice gets muffled as she says something to one of the kids. My mind is spinning as I walk outside the restaurant to get away from the noise.

“A fight?” I ask, incredulous. “Cora got into a fight?”

“Yeah, with the Coulson boy…hold it just like that, Jack. Press hard. Emmy, can you find my car keys?”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Get her to the hospital. I’ll catch the next flight home.”

“I think we’ll be o—Cora, honey no. Please don’t pass out.”

“Fuck.” I look up at the night sky, feeling helpless. “I’ll call the Jacksons to come over and help.”

“I had Emmy run over there; they aren’t home.”

“Just get her to your car and get her there, Sheila. I’ll pay for your car to be cleaned up if there’s blood in it. I’m going to the airport. Have Jack call me when you get to the hospital.”

“Okay. She’ll be okay, Luca.”

She ends the call and I run into the restaurant.

“Everything okay?” Abby asks.

“No. I’m so sorry, but I’ve got an emergency and I have to get back home. I’m getting a cab to the airport right now.”

Abby looks at me with concern in her eyes. “How can I help?”

I look at her helplessly. “Just cross your fingers that I can get a flight tonight. I’ll buy someone’s seat from them if I have to.”

“My company has a plane you can take. It’s just a small, private plane, but it’s on standby. I can get you right on it if I go to the airport with you.”

“Your company lets you use their private plane?”

She grabs her purse and slides down from her stool. “Come on.”

I absently throw some cash on the table for our order and follow her out of the restaurant. Abby has to be more than a salesperson at her company if she can command a private plane. But right now, it doesn’t matter what her job is. All I care about is getting home to Cora.Chapter ThirteenAbby“You shorted me a burpee, give me ten more,” Percy says.

“I did not!”

“Want fifteen more?”

I scowl and resume my burpees. It’s definitely my least favorite exercise.

“You seem extra salty this morning, Abby, what’s up?”

I exhale hard after a burpee. “My night of epic sex got cancelled last night.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” I finish my set of burpees and get a drink from my water bottle. “And then to make matters worse, he got personal on me. I specifically said I wanted to keep things impersonal.”

“Whoa, hold up.” Percy gives me a skeptical look. “Tell me the whole thing.”

I grab the front of my shirt and lift it up to mop the sweat from my face.

“We just have a casual thing. When our schedules align, which isn’t much, we get together for great sex. So last night he wanted to have dinner first, which hello…personal. But I was hungry, so I said okay.”