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“Forget about it.”

He got up from the bed and moved on to sit on the floor before me, his palms pressed together.

“Please, Santi, I’m short a few bucks. I’ll do anything, I swear.”

The sight of him begging made me uneasy, and I huffed.

“What about your job?”

He looked down at the floor and muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I got fired!” he whined, looking up.

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Nacio—”

“What happened to your knuckles?” he cut me off, eyes focused on my hand.

I quickly brought it down and got up.

“Nothing. Sparred a bit too hard.”

Still on the floor, Nacio’s eyes followed me around the room.

“Who did you spar with?”

I shrugged. “Just someone at the gym.”

His brows pulled together. “You went to the boxing gym? I thought you hated it there.”

Fuck. What was up with all of his questions?

“How about we talk about you losing your job instead? Sounds a bit more important to me.”

He huffed, then got up from the floor. “Well, in my defense, working there was a bitch. Besides, I can do better. Tess said she can hook me up with a job, too.”

Like hell she will.

“Ain’t no fucking way I’ll allow that.”

He held his hands up. “Well, if you refuse to give me money, I have no other choice⁠—”

“Fine,” I cut in. “I’ll give you some cash. Just promise you’ll find a decent job.”

Already chuckling and rubbing his palms together, I doubted he heard a word I’d just said.

“Nacio?”

“What?”

“Did you hear me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, find a job.”

“A decent job.”