Then calling.
Then texting again.
Relentless.
And that was how I’d ended up outside his apartment at seven thirty, bracing myself for the interrogation I didn’t want to have.
The hallway smelled like someone had burned popcorn, and the distinct hum of his aquarium filtered through the door.
I knocked once.
He opened immediately, like he’d been standing there with his ear pressed to the wood. “You look like you want to bail.”
“I do,” I said.
He stepped aside anyway. “Too bad. Come in.”
The big aquarium lit the whole living room in soft blue, casting ripples of light across the walls. Sapphire, the blue tang Talon and Livvi had adopted during a freakishly emotional moment in their lives, darted between coral decorations like a tiny aquatic diva.
I nodded toward it. “Your fish looks … energetic.”
“Sapphire is thriving,” Talon corrected, shutting the door behind me. “Unlike you.”
I groaned. “Not tonight, man.”
“That’s exactly why we’re doing this.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder and steered me inside. If Talon had ever decided to become a therapist instead of an Olympian, he’d have been terrifyingly effective.
Ridge, Talon’s brother who had also become my friend since we’d started swimming together four years ago, was already on the couch watching TV, long legs stretched out, remote in hand. His dark hair was still wet from whatever training session he’d just finished, and he was wearing an old US National Championships swim sweatshirt that he definitely kept for nostalgia points.
He looked over. “Ledger.”
“Ridge.”
His brows rose instantly. “You sound like someone stole your goggles.”
“Pretty sure someone stole my future,” I muttered.
Talon shot me a concerned look. Ridge blinked.
“Okay,” Ridge said finally. “We’re diving right into trauma tonight. Cool.”
I dropped onto the opposite end of the couch with a sigh. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Talon said, heading to the kitchen. “Water?”
“Yes,” I said.
Talon returned and handed me a bottle.
I uncapped the water. “Where’s Livvi?”
“She’s on her way.”
Ridge angled toward me. “So what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I lied. The response was automatic.
