I took a breath. Calm. Rational.
“Roxanne—”
Her nostrils flared. “Do not call me that.”
Normally, this was almost fun. Our banter was a well-practiced blade—sharp, stupidly efficient, endlessly irritating.
But tonight?
I didn’t have the defenses.
Talon must’ve sensed it, because he walked over and gently pushed Roxie toward the couch.
“Okay, children,” he said. “Let’s ease off the murder attempts.”
Roxie plopped down beside Ridge. I stayed on the far cushion, as distant as the couch allowed.
Silence stretched.
Talon sat on the coffee table, facing me. Ridge eyed the TV like he wished it would magically turn on. Roxie cracked open her iced tea and sipped it like she was preparing for a show.
Talon spoke first, ignoring that I wasn’t in the mood to chat.
“Ledger. Talk to me.”
I stared at the aquarium lights. Sapphire zipped through the fake coral again, unbothered by anything beyond her fish world.
Must be nice.
“Just drop it,” I said quietly.
Roxie’s head snapped toward me.
She’d heard it. The crack in my voice I hadn’t meant to let slip.
There was a subtle shift in the air, so subtle I almost missed it. Her posture straightened a little. Her browspinched. Concern flickered across her face before she smoothed it.
She was perceptive. Always too perceptive.
“Talon,” Ridge murmured softly. “Maybe give him space?”
But Talon shook his head. “He doesn’t need space. He needs to not implode in silence.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “The sponsorship fell through.”
Ridge winced. “Shoot.”
Roxie blinked, expression unreadable. “What does that mean for you?”
Talon’s head dipped down, his face grim as he ran a hand through his hair, obviously knowing exactly what it meant.
I let out a heavy sigh. “It means the lane privileges and the apartment go with it.”
This time, nobody spoke.
Because they knew.
They knew what it meant to lose access. To have your career suddenly hinge on finances that didn’t exist.
