9. Robin
ROBIN
Water spilled over my shoulders as I squeezed some citrus scent body wash onto my loofa. I had woken up today before my alarm had even gone off and I was annoyingly happy for a Tuesday.
Then I remembered why. Micah.
A stupid little flutter started up in my chest. It was humiliating behavior. I finished my shower, got out, and dried off. After washing my face, I reached for my phone and found a text waiting for me already.
Micah: Good morning trouble, Did you survive my dangerous nerd propaganda?
I smiled so fast my face hurt. Ridiculous.
Robin: barely. Who knew space diplomacy would make me so sleepy.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Micah: Next time I’m going to wake you up so you don’t miss it
Robin: Don’t push your luck star trek boy
Micah: You know you like it.
A laugh escaped me softly as I strolled out of my bathroom.
This was new. The flirty texting was one thing, but I found the softness of it all to be an entirely new feeling.
Something about him put me at ease. Most people exhausted me eventually.
Social interaction usually felt like balancing spinning plates while pretending I wasn’t counting the exits. Micah somehow felt restful instead.
I padded into the kitchen in plaid pajama shorts and an oversized sweatshirt to make coffee while my phone buzzed again.
Micah: What are you doing today?
Robin: Spreadsheets. Zombie violence… maybe both simultaneously
Micah: Your hobbies are alarming
Robin: Says the man emotionally attached to fictional astronauts
I could practically hear his laugh through the phone. The thought warmed something low in my chest before I could stop it.
Coffee in hand, I wandered into my office and settled into my desk chair while my monitors flickered awake around me. It was time for work mode. Client files opened across one screen while spreadsheets filled the other. I lost myself in expense reports and quarterly projections.
Numbers made sense. Numbers behaved, unlike feelings. I tucked one leg beneath myself in the chair and started working through reconciliation reports while music pumped through the speakers.
For almost thirty full minutes, I behaved like a normal productive adult.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Micah: Important question
I smiled before I even opened it.
Robin: statistically unlikely, but continue
Micah: Do you think Spock would enjoy roller derby?
I snorted loud enough to startle myself.
Robin: No. But I think Data would. Figure that out.
A few seconds later:
Micah: Your answer is only making me more obsessed with you.
My stomach flipped so hard I physically leaned back in my chair. Jesus Christ. Nobody should’ve been allowed to make my heart flutter before ten AM.
I stared at the message way too long before typing back.
Robin: Bold statement for a man I could still theoretically stab
Micah: You’d look beautiful doing it
I dropped my forehead against my desk, laughing helplessly.
This was ridiculous. I wasn’t used to smiling this much…
or to checking my phone and feeling lighter.
I wasn’t prepared for somebody weaving themselves into the edges of my day this quickly.
But every time Micah’s name lit up my screen, warmth bloomed through me before I could stop it.
And honestly? I was starting to think maybe I didn’t want to stop it at all.
Later that day I made my way to the rink.
Music echoed through the speakers while skaters circled the track in bursts of motion and color beneath lights of a disco ball.
Wheels thundered against polished wood. Someone shouted near the jammer line.
Laughter exploded from the benches where half the team already sat, gearing up for practice.
The Grimm Reapers weren’t exactly graceful as a collective.
We were more like organized chaos with kneepads. And I loved every second of it.
I dropped my bag beside the bench and was hit in the shoulder with a rolled-up sock.
“Late,” Mel called from across the room.
“I have a job,” I shot back.
“You work from home.”
“Exactly. Very busy.”
Mel snorted and went back to adjusting her helmet, clipboard in hand like an exhausted camp counselor.
Around us, the team buzzed with familiar energy.
Belle, who was finally back practicing with the team after an injury, stretched while arguing with Sonia about the playlist. Eleanor sat cross-legged on the floor with tiny bats on her nails, no doubt put there by her amazing creepy little daughter, even though practice would destroy them within an hour.
Bianca laughed brightly, sitting on the bench further down, replacing her worn toe stop.
Found family wasn’t always soft, sometimes it looked like bruises and screaming, and shared fries after practice.
I slid onto the bench beside Zella, who was already halfway through braiding her impossibly long blonde hair into two tight plaits.
“You look suspiciously glowy,” she commented.
I narrowed my eyes. “Mind your business.”
“Happiness suits you, you should try it more often.”
I rolled my eyes and bent to tighten my skates while she bumped my shoulder playfully.
The truth was, I probably did look different. I was happier… which was extremely annoying.
My phone had buzzed twice on the drive over already.
Micah: hope derby practice goes well tonight trouble
Then five minutes later:
Micah: try not to commit felony assault
Which, unfortunately, had made me smile in my car like an idiot.
“Okay,” Belle announced dramatically as she dropped onto the bench across from us. “I waited almost fifteen whole minutes before asking.”
“Patience is a virtue you don’t know,” Mel muttered.
Belle pointed directly at me. “Tell me about the hot priest.”
Zella gasped loudly. “YES.”
I buried my face briefly in my hands.
Across the rink, Mel barked out a laugh.
The team dissolved into overlapping laughter while I focused very hard on my skate laces.
I wasn’t sure what to say because this was weird territory for me.
I didn’t usually bring people up here. I hadn’t wanted to before.
My relationships lived in carefully separated boxes most of the time.
But this team? These were my people. They were the ones who showed up when life imploded, the ones who held each other upright through heartbreak and injuries and terrible jobs and grief and joy and everything in between.
If I was going to tell anyone, it would be them.
I sighed dramatically and looked up.
“Fine,” I said.
The entire bench immediately leaned closer like raccoons sensing food.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.
Zella bounced slightly. “You like him.”
“I barely know him.”
“That’s not a denial,” Belle sang.
I glared at all of them before finally giving in.
“He’s...” I hesitated briefly, searching for the right word. “Unexpected.”
Mel’s expression softened slightly at that. “How so?”
“He’s funny,” I admitted. “And weirdly sweet.” My mouth twitched despite myself. “Like… considerate, or whatever.”
Belle made a delighted squealing noise.
“He made me breakfast,” I added carefully.
The entire team lost their minds instantly.
“brEAKFAST?” Zella yelled.
“OH, IT’S SERIOUS,” Belle shouted over her.
“It is not serious!”
Mel looked very entertained now. “Breakfast after the first hookup is boyfriend territory.”
“No!” I pointed at her. “I did not say that.”
Belle gasped dramatically. “Did he at least make good breakfast?”
I hesitated. “French toast.”
“Oh, he wants to marry you,” Belle beamed.
I laughed while the chaos of derby practice continued in familiar noisy waves.
When my phone buzzed again in my skate bag a minute later, I caught myself smiling before I could stop it.
Mel was quick to notice. “So,” she said dryly, “how long until we all meet the priest?”
I looked down at my skates, fighting another smile. “Shut up.”
Practice ended the way Grimm Reapers practices always ended, sweaty and bruised. And somehow hungry enough to consume our combined body weight in fried food. Which was how half the team ended up migrating to Trixie's afterward.
The familiar warmth hit me the second we walked through the door. Neon beer signs glowed against dark wood walls, while classic rock played through overhead speakers. The place wasn't packed yet, only a handful of regulars scattered around.
A head of purple hair popped up from behind the bar and I smiled.
Van looked up from pouring a beer and waved.
The bartender's bright purple undercut practically glowed beneath the bar lights.
Tattoos disappeared beneath rolled sleeves while a silver ring flashed through one eyebrow when she grinned.
"Well look what the cat dragged in."
"Be nice," Mel called.
"I’m always nice."
Belle laughed in Van’s face.
"Didn’t I ban you last week?"
Belle smiled and nodded. "And the week before that."
The team dissolved into laughter while we claimed our usual collection of tables near the back. Van shook her head fondly and went back to work.
I was halfway through stealing fries from Belle's basket when I spotted Ariel. My eyebrows shot up. She sat at one of the nearby high-top tables with a soda and basket of cheese curds while talking animatedly with a couple of women I didn’t recognize.
"Aren't you underage?" I asked, standing directly behind her.
Ariel nearly jumped out of her seat.
Then she gave me the guiltiest smile I'd ever seen. "I turn twenty-one next month… but my ID says I’m twenty-four."
I crossed my arms.
She winced. "Don’t tell Van."
I looked back and saw Van looking over at us.
"I'm not even drinking!" Ariel leaned forward slightly and gave me a sheepish smile. The kind specifically designed to get away with things. "Keep my secret?"
God help me. The kid was impossible.
I sighed dramatically. "You're lucky I like you."
Ariel grinned. "I knew it."
"You should not have that much confidence."
"Too late."
I shook my head while she laughed and returned to her friends.
Back at our table, Belle slid a basket of fries toward me. "Who is that? I’ve seen her around a lot lately."