Page 26 of Hard Pass

“Next time.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. I can picture her perfectly, standing in her kitchen, a hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised like she’s deciding whether to call me out or let it go.

“I figured, but I had to try.” Thankfully, I can hear a smile in her voice.

“I appreciate the effort. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably never go out.”

“And that’s the problem.” She laughs. “So much so that your mom called me to check on you.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, she did.”

“Dub,” Willa says and I know a gentle scolding is coming. “You don’t have to run yourself into the ground every time you take a case.”

“I know.”

“Do you though?”

I don’t respond, because if I do, I’ll open the door I’m not in the mood to walk through tonight.

Willa and I have been having versions of this conversation since we were eighteen—freshmen at University Texas-Austin, thrown together as roommates by chance and kept together by everything that followed. Late-night study sessions that turned into life conversations. Cheap wine and bad hangovers. Big dreams and bigger failures. The kind of blissfully easy friendship that doesn’t require maintenance. The kind you find once in a lifetime.

We both stayed in Austin after graduation. We lived together for a while before she found Brian, and I encouraged her to move in with him.

“I’ll come out the next time you ask,” I repeat, this time with a little more weight behind it. Guilt has a way of doing that.

She gives a noncommittal murmur that sounds less than convinced. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“Good. Now go work or pretend to relax.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Yeah. Right.” She laughs. “Call me tomorrow.”

“I will.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

The call ends and I let the quiet settle around me, snuggling into it like a warm blanket. For a moment, I just sit there with my phone still in my hand and allow myself to feel slightly jealous of Willa and her well-balanced life. The good job. The perfect boyfriend to cuddle up to every night. The level of adulting I’m nowhere near yet.

Then again, would I even want that?

I purse my lips and honestly don’t know the answer. Sometimes I do when I come home to an empty house and just want that feeling of being wanted and other times, I’m so damn glad I get to go home to an empty place and not have to deal with anyone’s shit. The built-in sex that comes with a relationship would definitely be a perk, but at the same time, am I ready to have to be considerate of someone else’s wants and needs at all times?

“No clue,” I mutter and then glance over at my laptop and my current situation. Investigating a guy I tried to hook up with five years ago. Maybe I should take that as a life lesson to keep doing what I’m doing—focusing on my job.

l laugh, because this whole situation is ludicrous.

Cole Valor.

Fucking hell. Because of all the things I expected when he walked into that meeting, being annoyed he didn’t recognize me wasn’t one of them.

And yet it’s a small, persistent irritation I can’t quite shake.

I let my head fall back against the couch cushion and stare at the ceiling.