Fighting for What’s His: A Warrior Fight Club Novel

by Laura Kaye

  “I’m free,” Malik said, shrugging. “I mean, if you want some company.”

  “Really?” Shay grinned up at him, feeling like she was slowly building a community—and a life—here. Just like she’d wanted. “I warn you, it’s a battlefield out there.”

  He smirked. “I grew up in NYC. DC is a baby city by comparison.”

  “Okay, then, you’re on.”

  That afternoon, she texted Billy: I found a friend from work who can go with me tonight. Just FYI!

  She wasn’t sure why she left off that it was a male friend, but given Billy’s over-protectiveness, maybe it was for the best.

  Barely a minute had passed before he replied: Good. And good luck. –Wingman

  She stared at that word. It was a cute and funny way to sign off. But it also made her wish that Billy Parrish could be so much more than that to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Who calls a studio a two-bedroom apartment?” Malik asked after they left her Thursday night appointment.

  Shayna rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Now I know why the listing said two hyphen bed hyphen room apartment. I thought the second hyphen was a typo.” Instead it turned out that someone was really subletting a studio—one room with two beds—and asking $900 a month to do it.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, Shayna.” They paused out in front of the apartment building that was not to be her new home.

  “Don’t be. Something will come along. At some point. I hope.” She chuckled and mentally scratched possibility number seven off the list. “You wanna grab something to eat? My treat.”

  It was the least she could do, even though the comparison to the routine that she and Billy had created made her miss him something fierce. Which was probably stupid since it’d only been a day since they’d last gone out together.

  God, she had it bad, didn’t she?

  “I’m game to do that tomorrow, but tonight I have to finish a piece so I can have it on my editor’s desk before morning,” he said, his bright hazel eyes filled with regret.

  “Oh, good luck with that, then. And tomorrow sounds great. Thanks again, Malik. I appreciated the company.”

  He smiled. “I told you I’d be happy to explore the city with you.”

  Shayna laughed. “Bet you weren’t expecting to start with the seediest parts.”

  They said good-bye at the metro, each of them needing a different line. Forty-five minutes later, Shayna was walking up Farragut carrying a bag of Indian take-out. She found Reuben sitting on his front porch with Ziggy. “Hi, guys,” she called out.

  “Oh, Shayna. How are you this fine night?” Reuben asked. Zig got up, chased his tail, and barked all at the same time.

  She laughed. “I’m okay. I’ve been trying to find a new apartment but it’s surprisingly not that easy.”

  Reuben waved her in. “Come on and join us if you have a minute.”

  “I do,” she said, greeted by a very happy Ziggy the moment she stepped through the gate. “Hi, Zig,” she said, bending down to give him a pet as best she could with the take-out in her arm. As she approached the porch, Reuben went to stand. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I’m happy with the stoop where I can pet Ziggy.”

  Smiling and nodding, Reuben settled himself in again. “So what’s going on with finding an apartment?”

  She put her takeout behind her where Ziggy wouldn’t knock it over and gave Reuben the run down. “I’ve looked at seven places so far, and every place has either had strange personalities or poor conditions. And several more have cancelled before I had a chance to see them because someone else rented them first. Those were probably the good ones.” Ziggy pushed his head under Shayna’s hand, making her laugh.

  “You can’t stay with that young man of yours?” Reuben asked.

  And there went the laughter. Oh, man, the way he’d phrased that question did things to her heart. Because Billy wasn’t hers. Not by a long shot.

  “Billy’s happy to let me stay there until I find a place, so he’s not rushing me out or anything. But it was always a temporary arrangement—one my brother made for me.”

  “I see,” Reuben said. “Shame, though, ‘cause it seems like you two get on real good.”

  They did. They really did. She took Ziggy’s block head into her hands and scratched behind both ears. But it wasn’t like Billy wanted a roommate. He hadn’t had one before she came. And he’d only taken her in because Ryan had called in a favor.

  “Well, I have another place to look at tomorrow night and one more this weekend.” Which reminded her that she needed to reschedule Sunday. “So keep your fingers crossed for me.”

  He nodded. “I’ll say a prayer and we’ll see if we can’t get the big man upstairs to help you out.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. Hey, have you eaten dinner? I got Indian take-out and have way more than I could possibly eat myself.” Given how much she’d been eating out lately with all the evening appointments, she probably shouldn’t have splurged when she was coming home anyway, but she’d been tired and craving comfort food after another strike-out.

  “No, I haven’t. But you should save it for Billy.”

  “I don’t know when or even if he’ll be home tonight. He’s working some extra shifts for the next few days. I’d love to share it with you.”

  “Well, okay then. Do you want to eat inside or have me grab some plates and we’ll eat picnic style out here?”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were settled around Reuben’s dining room table using his wife’s nice china. He said it was a plenty special occasion for it, which totally charmed Shayna.

  His place was tidy and chock-a-block with mementos from a long and eventful life—framed photographs, trophies, kids’ art projects, and more. But it also had a quality of stillness in the air that spoke to the likelihood that little had changed inside these walls in many years.

  They ate and talked about everything and joked about Ziggy until the sun had gone down and Reuben’s daughter had called for her nightly check-in. And Shayna thoroughly enjoyed herself—making her realize that she was going to miss Reuben and Ziggy when she moved.

  The thought sent an unexpected shock of sadness through her.

  In just a few weeks, she’d come to adore seeing these two each morning as she left for work and many evenings when she came home. Sometimes she took walks with Reuben and Ziggy around the neighborhood, and on a few occasions she’d dropped in just to say hello. They’d become part of her routine, part of her circle, part of the community she was trying to build here.

  She’d have to come back over here and visit them. Of course, she would. Then why was she so sad?

  That feeling still had its tendrils in her the next evening when she and Malik approached apartment number eight, which was a studio on the fourth floor of a brownstone in Adams Morgan. At $1,200, it was at the top of her price range, but it would be an awesome neighborhood to live in.

  A realtor met them at the front door and gave her a big smile. “Hi Shayna, I’m Mark Wilson.”

  “Hi Mark. Thanks for meeting me tonight. This is my friend, Malik Morrison.”

  The men shook, and then the realtor guided them up the four flights of stairs. “There is an elevator, but it’s currently out of service,” Mark said.

  She wondered how often that happened. By the time they made it upstairs, Shayna’s shirt was sticking to her. The hallways weren’t air conditioned and it was stifling on the uppermost floor, where they found two doors.

  “This is it right here. 4A.” Mark fished through his keys and finally opened the door. “There isn’t central air, obviously, but you could buy a window unit.”

  The room wasn’t huge but the place had a lot of character. Despite being a studio, it was L-shaped, so it would give her bed a bit of separation from the rest of the living area. There was a built-in bookcase between the windows, crystal knobs on all the doors, and a really pretty cut-glass light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

  “And this i
s the kitchen,” Mark said, flipping on the light switch.

  Shayna saw Malik’s eyes go wide as he peered in, and she nearly chuckled. It was very likely that the kitchen was in a space that had once been a closet, because that was how wide and deep it was. Which explained why neither the sink, the oven, nor the fridge were the full, normal size.

  “It’s really cute,” she said. Even with its faults, it was the best place she’d seen. She wasn’t sure if that was saying much. She peeked into the bathroom next.

  “Shayna,” Malik whispered. “I don’t think I could fit on that toilet without my knees hitting the glass.”

  She winced. “I see that.” The toilet was super close to the shower enclosure.

  “I have to test this out,” Malik said, amusement plain in his tone. He sat. And promptly cracked both knee caps on the shower door. “Ow. Damn.”

  Shay couldn’t help but laugh. “You knew that was going to happen!”

  “I know, but still,” he said, standing and rubbing his knees.

  They returned to the main room when Shayna suddenly heard footsteps out in the hallway. A door opened and closed. She remembered the lady from the cave basement saying how sound traveled in old houses, and it was obviously true here, too. Still, that wasn’t so bad.

  She peered around the space. “So, I’d put my bed there,” she said, looking at the nook created by the shorter side of the L. “And I could maybe do a loveseat-sized sofa and a small two-seater table. I’m not sure about my desk, though. Or where I’d store my camera equipment.” To say nothing of her hope to set up a darkroom space. “But I could probably figure something out—”

  She’d barely pronounced the ‘T’ in ‘out’ when it started. A headboard banging against a wall and guttural moans.

  Shayna froze. Someone was having sex. From right next door, it sounded like. She looked to Malik and found him wide-eyed and slack-jawed. But it was the realtor who most caught her attention. His face was beet red.

  “Is this a regular feature of this apartment, do you know?” she managed.

  Mark um’ed and shuffled and wiped at his brow before finally saying, “So, your neighbor is a very nice lady named Lacie, who, um, runs a business out of her, uh, room.”

  “A business. What kind of a—” Which was when Shayna got it. “She’s a prostitute?”

  “For real?” Malik asked, coming to stand at her side as she faced off with the realtor. She appreciated the support, too. Because this was…not gonna work.

  “Uh, well, yes,” Mark finally said.

  Her shoulders fell as she looked around at the quaint space. Her imaginary furniture layout poofed before her mind’s eye.

  “Come on, Shayna,” Malik said. “You can’t put up with all that racket at all hours. And you have no idea what kind of people her johns are.”

  She nodded. It was a good point and possibly the first time she was glad that Billy wasn’t with her. She could only imagine what his reaction would’ve been.

  Outside, she stared up at the place and shook her head. “Too bad I didn’t pitch my apartment-hunting journey as a story. I wonder if anyone would even believe it.”

  Malik gave her a sympathetic look. “You deserve a really nice dinner somewhere. Do you like Italian?”

  “I love Italian,” she said, grateful for the distraction from her housing woes.

  Thirty minutes later, they were seated at a table in a below-street-level Italian restaurant in Georgetown, famed for its celebrity sightings, over-the-top Victorian décor, giant portion sizes, and—Shayna stared at the massive devil and skeleton dog hanging from the ceiling just to her right—all-out holiday decorations. Despite the fact that it was only late September, the place was full-on Halloween. Everywhere she looked.

  It was fun and ridiculous, and it gave the space a shadowy, candlelit atmosphere that was also kinda romantic. Which of course made her wonder if Billy had ever been there. Because Shayna was a glutton for punishment. Obviously.

  “I wonder when their Christmas decorations go up?” she mused, peering around.

  Malik chuckled as he opened his book-like menu. “Probably the minute these come down.”

  She grinned as she flipped through the huge array of choices. Everything looked amazing. After they placed their orders, Shayna asked, “How’d your story go last night?”

  “Got it done,” Malik said. “And my editor only had a few changes so I’m feeling pretty good about it.”

  “Oh, good for you. What was it about?”

  They talked shop until their dinners arrived. Her eyes went wide as she took in the absolute mound of gnocchi della mamma on her plate. “We could’ve shared this.”

  “Or fed a small village,” Malik said, digging into his tortelloni stuffed with braised beef brisket in a sauce of pine nuts, mushrooms, butter, and cream.

  “I’m a big fan of leftovers, though.” Shayna moaned around a bite.

  “You’ll definitely get a couple meals out of this then. See? I knew this place would lift your spirits.”

  “It really has. Thank you.” Shay grabbed a piece of Italian bread and dipped it in the amazing meat sauce. “Speaking of spirits…”

  The comical look on Malik’s face made her laugh.

  “That reminds me of one of the apartments I saw earlier in the week. In fact—” She peered around at the gabillion ornate Halloween decorations filling every available space, many of them big standing witch, vampire, or mummy figures, among others. “—this whole place reminds me of that apartment.”

  “I think I’m scared,” Malik deadpanned.

  “But which would’ve scared you more? The table full of voodoo-looking items in what would’ve been my bedroom because my would-be roommate believed a mostly friendly male spirit inhabited the room? Or the approximately ten thousand clown figurines and decorations that filled the living room, some of which were disturbing enough to have fit in here as Halloween decorations?”

  “Where are you finding these places?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said with a chuckle. “On roommate-finder websites and Craigslist and one realty site that specializes in rentals and sublets.” She shrugged. “So? Ghosts or clowns?”

  “Uh-uh,” he said around a bite and shaking his head. “Both are a nope for me. Just no. No. No. Nope. No way.” He nailed her with a stare.

  “Yeah, that was pretty much Billy’s reaction, too.”

  “So, Billy’s the current roommate, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Well, it was never the plan for me to be his roommate. He served in the Army Rangers with my brother, who asked him if he’d put me up for a few weeks until I found a place of my own. I’m crashing in his office.”

  “Oh,” Malik said, shaking his head. “And you can’t stay there, then?”

  Okay, universe, you can stop having people ask me that any time now! Kthxbai.

  Shayna shook her head. “Not forever, no.” In addition to the other reasons she’d laid out for why her arrangement at Billy’s was temporary came the realization that, despite knowing how challenging of a time she was having, he’d never offered for her to stay.

  Which was the first time that she’d ever had that thought. And it was really freaking depressing.

  No, he hadn’t offered. Which, fine, was his right. Didn’t make it suck any less, though. Crap, how had it taken her so long to realize that?

  “Well, this might be crazy, Shayna, but I have an extra room in my rowhouse. It’s three bedrooms, one of which I use as an office. But the third room’s just sitting empty. It’s only me. And you’d be more than welcome for however long you’d like to stay. Being roommates could be fun.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  Malik grinned. “I don’t think I have too many strange quirks, except maybe that I’m a rabid Giants fan. And I pick the green M&Ms out of the bag first. And every once in a while, my family might invade. There are a lot of them.”

  She blinked again. Malik…was offering. “Malik, tha
t’s amazingly generous of you but I can’t invade your home.”

  He shrugged. “Why not? It’s a nice, safe place and we could work out rent and all that. We already know each other and know we’d get along.”

  She shook her head, completely overwhelmed by how nice this offer was. “I don’t think I could afford my fair share of a three-bedroom rowhouse.” And it wouldn’t truly feel like she was on her feet if she was still accepting hand-outs from a friend, would it?

  “Shayna, not to be gauche, but I made a lot of money on Wall Street. I don’t need a roommate or to share expenses. So, we can figure out what would be doable and fair.”

  Dropping her fork to her plate, she sat there, kinda gobsmacked. Could she really do this? Was it possible that she’d just found her new roommate? Would it be weird to live with a colleague? Her head was spinning a little at the unexpected turn of events and all the questions that came with it.

  “Oh, I guess I should tell you I’m gay, in case that matters. Not that there’s a boyfriend in the picture, but, you know, hopefully someday there will be.” He winked at her.

  Shayna burst into tears.

  “Oh, hell,” he said, reaching across the table to hand her a clean napkin. “I’ve had girls be disappointed before when I had to tell them I wasn’t interested, but this is new.”

  She laughed through her tears. “No, no. Of course, I don’t mind that you’re gay. I’m crying because I didn’t realize how heavily this situation had been weighing on my shoulders until you just lifted it off for a moment. I…I don’t even know what to say.” She wiped her face.

  “You don’t have to say anything right now. I’ll show you my place. We can negotiate rent. And you can think about it. I know you have some other places you were scheduled to see, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, if you like one of those, great. If not, you know where to find me.” He grinned. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind after this?” She waved the tear-soaked napkin.