Oh, no. He was not getting involved in the damn cancer story line. Not one bit. Ignoring the bait she’d dropped, he clenched his jaw. “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, Lisa, okay? Just leave me alone.”
Lisa’s hands went to her hips. “I’m not going to give up on you, Sebastian Cabral. You’re going to see that I’m the perfect girlfriend for you. What we had was good.”
What they’d had was brief and annoying. “Go away, Lisa.”
“You just wait. I refuse to take no for an answer.” She tossed her head and stalked away.
Frustrated, he rubbed his forehead. Everyone was staring. He couldn’t come back to this gym again. Hell, he was going to have to convince Hunter that this wasn’t a setup.
What a nightmare. He had to do something to get Lisa off his back. If not, he was going to have to endure months of ambushes like this one. Something had to be done.
*
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Pisa asked again, checking the half-empty apartment one last time before letting the movers leave.
“Totally cool,” Chelsea assured her. She shouldered Pisa’s bag of skate equipment, since that was something that she wanted with her on the plane. A TV could be replaced, but skates that were properly broken in were priceless. “It’s going to be fun having the place to myself for a while.”
“You’re such a shitty liar,” Pisa told her. She scanned the room one last time and then turned to Chelsea. “You can tell your derby wife, honey. Say the word and I’ll get a later flight or something.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Chelsea handed her the heavy bag. “You need to do this. How long have you been waiting for the chance at a promotion? I’d be the worst friend on earth if I held you back.”
“We both know you’re not doing it on purpose.” Pisa’s narrow face was worried. “You have my new address, right?”
“And your phone number. And the emergency numbers of the other girls on the team. And I can go down to a coffee shop if it gets too quiet. Or I’ll get a cat or something. I promise, it’s cool.”
The unhappy look on Pisa’s face didn’t ease up. “You’ll call me if you start to freak out?”
“Absolutely.” Chelsea grabbed her friend by the shoulders and turned her toward the front door. “You have to go, Pisa. Your plane is leaving soon and the movers are waiting for you to wave them off.”
“I know. I just feel guilty . . .” She looked at Chelsea again.
“Feel guilty that you’re leaving the Rag Queens for some shitty Austin team,” she teased, keeping her voice light.
“Austin’s kickass and you know it.” Pisa flung her arms around Chelsea. “I’m going to miss you so much, Chesty LaRude.”
Hot tears formed in Chelsea’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m going to miss you, too, Pisa Hit.” She squeezed her friend again. “We’ll see each other at Nationals, though, won’t we?”
“Absolutely.” Pisa lifted her bent arm and tapped her elbow. “I’m keeping this ready to dig into your chest.”
Chelsea giggled through her tears. “I’ll miss you.”
They hugged three more times before Pisa finally left. Chelsea waved her off. Then, she quietly shut the door to the apartment, locked the bolts, and stared dully at what was left of the furniture. She’d moved her soap-making supplies temporarily into Pisa’s room, set up on a folding table. She’d happily chattered to her buddy that she was closer to the kitchen in Pisa’s room, which would make things easier.
Lies. All lies, because she couldn’t hold her friend back from having a life. Pisa’s empty room nagged at Chelsea’s anxiety, and she closed the door and moved down the hall. As she went through the apartment, she turned the lights on. It was bright as the daylight outside in her bedroom, but it wasn’t enough.
It was too quiet. Too lonely.
She was too alone.
She crawled into bed and pulled the sheets up. Practice was tomorrow night. She could last until then. And she could skate in Central Park tomorrow. Maybe she’d call Morning Whorey or Gilmore Hurls and see if they were interested in skating. Probably not, because she knew they had office jobs.