“You have no idea how this has affected my bedtime routine. I check behind every door, under every object.” His shoulders slant lower. “This is a relief. Thank you for telling me.”
“You deserved to know the truth. You’ve been a good sport too.” He has. If we had done this to someone else, like the Prick, he would’ve threatened to take his ball and go home. “Anyway, we’re not always the most mature group. I’m sorry.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Are you, though?”
“Okay, not really. They’ve been amazing, and I’m sad it’s over.”
He pats my shoulder. “Honesty is always the best policy.”
“Ironic policy for a lawyer. Now, how would you like to remedy your pop-culture deficiency?”
“You want me to watch more movies?”
“You sound disappointed. Do you have a problem with movies in general, or only the ones you’ve refused to see so you can maintain your Too Cool for School demeanor?”
“It isn’t a badge of honor. My family was more partial to westerns and political thrillers.”
“Stars Wars is basically a space western. What about in college or law school? Are you telling me not one nerdy friend insisted that you watch these movies?”
“Not that I recall.”
I eye him closely. “You didn’t have any nerdy friends, did you?”
“I did. Greg Chumley. He was a bio major. We were roommates.”
“Let me guess. Your first year.”
“How did you know?”
“Because he was assigned your roommate, but you didn’t choose to room with him after that. Did you stay friends?”
He’s silent for a beat. “I wouldn’t say we established a friendship. We got along okay, but there was no bond.”
“And who did you bond with?”
Vertical lines appear between his brows. “No one.”
“Not a single person?”
“I had friends. Guys I hung out with. Girls I dated.”
“But you didn’t bond with any of them?”
“I don’t keep in touch with anyone from college or law school, so I guess that answers the question.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t know. It wasn’t a conscious decision. We didn’t keep in touch, that’s all.”
“What about the law firm? Any close friends?”
He snorts. “Only a frenemy. Matt Lyman. He and I are both gunning for the lone partnership spot this year.”
“Ooh, I love a good frenemy. Who has the edge?”
His expression crumples. “You know what? I don’t really want to talk about work.”
“Because you’re having too much fun?” I poke him in the stomach, expecting a soft landing. Instead, my finger immediately makes contact with the slab of granite that doubles as his abs. I’m surprised I don’t sprain my finger.
