I laugh along with him. “You’re such an asshole.”
“After all these years, you’re just now figuring that out?”
“Hardly,” I fire back. “Just reaffirming a known fact.”
“My mom always said she thought you were a bad influence on me.”
“That’s funny because your mom always used to tell me she wished she had a son half as amazing as me.”
Our laughter eventually tapers off, and in the silence that follows, Rider frowns slightly and looks down at his hands, which are folded in his lap. We’re sitting in my office, and I’ve just told him about the evening before – sparing all the gory details, of course. But I can tell there is something bothering him.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he replies. “Go on.”
“You can talk to me about –”
“I’m good, man.”
I eyeball him for a moment longer. Whatever it is, he obviously wants to keep it to himself for now, so I have no choice but to respect his wishes.
“Anyway, the way she rushed out like that with no explanation was strange,” I go on with a chuckle. “Which means she’s probably either married or a drug dealer.”
Rider laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, that sounds plausible,” he rolls his eyes. “Berlin just seems like the type who’d run a cartel.”
I grin but give him a shrug. “I’m just not sure what to think, honestly.”
“I think you’re overthinking this.”
“It’s possible.”
“It’s definite,” he corrects me. “It probably had nothing to do with you. She probably just had something to do.”
“At midnight?” I wonder. “I mean, she was a virgin, so I know she doesn’t have a kid –”
“So, you’re discounting the possibility of an Immaculate Conception?”
I laugh out loud. “I know she’s practically a saint and all, but…”
“She fucked you. That’s got to count for a Mother Teresa level act of charity.”
“Well, you’re just full of jokes today, aren’t you?”
He grins, but it soon fades, and he’s left looking at me, his expression more serious than before. I can see that he’s still wrestling with something in his head, but he seems no more inclined to talk about it than a few minutes ago, so I leave it alone. For now. I know if I press, he’ll likely make some comment about my control issues – which is standard fare for him. But if he’s struggling with something, I want to help.
“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way, man,” he finally says.
I lean back in the chair, the leather creaking beneath me. “And how should I be looking at it?”
“Berlin wouldn’t give you the time of day back in school, right?”
I nod ruefully. “Yeah.”
“So not only did she give you what I have to assume was her most prized possession – her virginity – she gave you her number to follow up with her,” he notes.
A wry grin touches my lips. “I haven’t tried calling yet, so I don’t know that it’s actually her number yet.”
Rider looks at me, a deadpan expression on his face, clearly not amused by my bullshit. I hold my hands up, palms out at chest level in mock surrender, chuckling at how serious he’s suddenly gotten.
“Okay, fair enough,” I say.
“Obviously, if she was willing to sleep with you, then something in her has shifted,” he declares. “God knows what, but it’s obvious that she’s into you. She wouldn’t just run away like that without a good reason.”
I let out a long breath. “Yeah, maybe.”
“No, definitely.”
There’s an underlying heat in his voice that catches my attention. I look up at him and see the struggle in his eyes. Whatever he’s wrestling with in his head is big – which makes me think it’s also important. Which, in turn, makes me even more curious than I already am.
“What is it, Rider?” I finally ask. “What is banging around in your head?”
“Nothing, man,” he replies. “I’m good.”
“That’s bullshit. I can see that you’re not,” I demand. “I can see you’re fighting with something.”
“It’s not my story to tell, Sawyer.”
“Well, whose is it?”
It’s then I realize that it’s Berlin’s story. I don’t know what Rider knows and what he’s hanging onto, but I know with utter certainty it has to do with Berlin – which means I have to know.
“Out with it, man,” I tell him.
“Like I said, this is not my story to tell, Sawyer.”
“Kind of seems like it’s something I should know, though.”
“Maybe,” he replies. “But it’s not my business and –”
“If it has to do with Berlin, as I suspect it does, I’m making it your business.”
He chuckles wryly. “Not sure that’s how that works.”
“Come on,” I press. “If it explains what happened last night, I think I need to know.”
He leans back in his seat and frowns. Rider has always been good at keeping secrets – it’s one of the reasons I trust him as much as I do. The man never opens his mouth about anything. It’s a trait I admire and value – but one that is really irritating me right now.
“Were you sworn to secrecy?” I ask.
He hesitates for a moment and then shakes his head. “No. I just don’t like being up in other people’s business.”
“I understand and appreciate that,” I continue. “But if you weren’t sworn to secrecy, there’s no expectation of privacy for whatever this is.”
He laughs softly. “You need to stop hanging out with lawyers.”
I shrug. “They teach me a few things now and then.”
Rider runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “You know, you could just ask her why she dashed out of the room yourself,” he says. “I know you can be persuasive.”
“You know I don’t like going into a situation without knowing the lay of the land,” I retort. “I like to have an idea of what I’m dealing with.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, let’s have it.”
Rider perches on the edge of the sofa, clasping his hands in front of him. He looks genuinely pained as if making the decision whether to tell me
