Page 65 of Robbin’ the Rich

Robin blinked. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"You were going to ask if I wanted to come."

Her smile appeared immediately. "And?"

"Obviously, I'm coming."

She laughed. "You're a derby groupie now."

"I was already a fan."

The truth was, I'd been watching the Grimm Reapers long before Robin and I ever spoke. But now? Now I got to cheer for someone specific. Someone whose laugh still echoed through my house. Someone who'd spent the morning kicking my ass in Smash Bros. Someone who had somehow worked her way into every corner of my life in a matter of weeks.

I followed her back upstairs, where we promptly started another game. And even though she absolutely annihilated me for the next two hours, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a better Saturday.

By late afternoon, Robin had finally taken mercy on me and agreed to stop humiliating me in video games. I took her home to get ready for the bout.

I was upstairs changing shirts when my phone buzzed. I snatched it up to check it, hoping it was Robin.

I was wrong. Mom. I stared at the screen. Nobody in my family called unless they wanted something. I answered anyway.

"Hey, Mom."

"Micah, thank goodness."

The greeting alone was enough to make my stomach sink.

I sat down on the edge of my bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Which meant something was definitely wrong. Mom sighed dramatically. "We've had a situation."

There it was. I rubbed a hand over my face.

"What kind of situation?"

"Ryan's grandmother passed away."

I was failing to connect the dots. "Oh?"

"He left for Cincinnati this afternoon."

The dots connected and I got it. That explained the emergency tone. Ryan had taken over guitar duties for the worship team months ago.

Which meant… "No."

Mom hadn't even asked yet. There was a brief silence.

"Micah."

"No."

"Sweetheart—"

"I have plans tomorrow."

"You can move your plans."

I laughed, the sound coming out sharper than intended. "No."