How did a girl so sweet, so innocent looking, so fucking gorgeous, end up standing beside a man who clearly makes her skin crawl? Does he have something on her? Has he brainwashed her?
The questions multiply and the answers I conjure chill me to the bone. The worst one?
Maybe she loves him. Like really, truly loves him...
Damn it. How long can Ryder’s ride go on for?
I’d tell him to hurry up, but I’m certain Bianca would bite my fucking head off if I interrupted again.
I down my drink and pour another.
Five more minutes pass before the telltale cacophony of their orgasms filters through the bedroom door.
“Jesus! You two fuck, and I’m the one who needs a smoke!” I yell, patting myself down for a stray cigarette.
It’s pointless, obviously. I don’t indulge in the habit, but sometimes, when things get tense and Broadway and Carter visibly relax as they fill their lungs with smoke, I wonder if it helps or if it’s just a placebo.
Ryder joins me first, raking his fingers through his messy hair, willing it back into place. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glossy, the post-orgasm haze softening his expression. I bet he’d already be asleep with his face buried in Bianca’s boobs if I weren’t here.
Tough luck. Iam, and I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.
“You look like shit,” he quips, one eyebrow raised.
“Thanks. Real helpful.”
Also, true. I saw my reflection in the elevator mirror. I’m far from my usual charming self.
Bianca joins us, perching in the armchair, eyes on me. “What’s got you so worked up?”
“Look at that,” I chuckle, the sound humorless. “No longer snappy, huh? I see my boy got you off properly.”
Ryder shoots me a glare. “Koby, I swear—”
“What? Am I wrong?”
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Bianca says with a smile.
Her boyfriend just rolls his eyes.
“So? What’s with the intrusion?” He points at the glass I’m refilling. “And your exceptionally high intake?”
I drain half the glass in one swallow, scotch burning down my throat. It doesn’t numb me, doesn’t calm the storm tearing me a new one. If anything, it sharpens the edges.
This isinsane.
I shouldn’t have come.
The last thing I need is Ryder’s condescending, knowing smirk or Bianca wagging her eyebrow, both deciding I’ve lost the fucking plot. My knee bounces and my palm itches against the glass.
“I need...” I cough, taking another swig. “I need you to dig up everything you can on Leilani.”
I brace for laughter. For surprise. Shock, even. Eyes bulging, mouth gaping, disbelief, and Ryder’s trademark what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look. I’m ready to hear I’m a drunk idiot, or that getting so bent out of shape over a girl I’ve never spoken to is ridiculous.
But I get none of that.
They’re cool as cucumbers, watching me as if they saw this coming a mile away. Like I was always going to end up here, moping on my best friend’s couch, begging for information and obsessing over a girl who doesn’t even know my name.
“Does Carter know about this?”
