It was past midnight when I left the building. I stopped at a gas station to clean up. I had a split lip and blood on my knuckles and in my beard. Most of the blood in my beard wasn't my own.
Letting myself in the back door, I listened for Gabby's soft breathing. She was safely asleep in bed. No other sounds drifted through the house, which meant Rachel wasn't home yet. Some of the remaining tension melted from my chest.
As I stripped and then changed into a clean shirt and shorts, I considered the challenges. I'd taken my time and paced myself, careful not to expend all my energy up front. But in the end, the third challenger had almost beaten me. What would Gabby have done if she'd woken, and I still hadn't returned? Her comment from Monday's dinner led me to believe she would have tried to find me, that we weren't done. Yet, what were we? Friends? I needed her to start seeing us as more than that.
I carefully lay next to her, wincing at the soreness along my back. She seemed to sense me in her sleep because she shifted closer. I put my hands behind my head and let her use me as a pillow. With her cheek on my chest, I wished I'd left off the shirt.
Once she settled, I sighed deeply and fell asleep.