from the Keurig, but instead of drinking from it, set it in front of Colton—hard enough that liquid sloshed over the edge. “Clearly you need another.”
“Walker, I appreciate the ride home last night. But you can leave now.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You know what you’re reminding me of? The sullen kid I met freshman year of college. Such a huge chip on his shoulder you’d think the entire world was out to get him.”
Colton pushed his stool away from the counter. “I’m sorry the fact that my career and the woman I thought I was going to marry being ripped from me at the same time means I’m a little worse for the wear—”
“Worse for the wear? Dude, you smell like a distillery.”
Colton jerked off the stool so hard it tipped and dropped to the floor. He skulked to the patio door.
“Listen for a minute, will you? I didn’t just stop today to check on you. I wanted to tell you about my dad.”
Colton froze, fingers in place on the screen door’s handle. He hadn’t seen his friend’s dad for years. Not since college. But the man . . . Well, he was a good guy. Took Colton under his wing during Colton’s years as Logan’s dorm-mate at the University of Iowa.
Colton had no doubt the man was a big part of the reason he’d eventually been able to sneak free from the grip of childhood shadows.
Oh, they were still there—dark and hazy as always—but he’d finally stopped peering into them. Trying to remember . . .
Yes, Case Walker’s influence had had something to do with that. “What about your dad?”
“There was a tornado last night, major damage. I spent the whole evening trying to get ahold of my family. Dad sprained his shoulder.”
Colton let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“I’m heading back to Iowa for a few days to help out. Taking Charlie with me. Thought maybe you’d want to come along. Get out of LA. Clear your head. Besides, Charlie misses you.”
For the briefest moment, the thought of his friend’s three-year-old daughter was almost enough to lend a hint of a smile to Colton’s face. Almost. “Don’t know.”
“Well, I’ve got a flight this afternoon, so make your decision fast.”
Colton nodded, opened the screen door, and stepped outside onto his sun-warmed wooden balcony. Below him, palm trees surrounded his complex’s recreation area, the sound of splashes and laughter lifting from the pool below.
He propped his elbows on the balcony railing and sighed. Shouldn’t have lost it with Logan. It’s not like he had an abundance of friends. And with no family and now Lilah out of his life, he should hold tighter to the few he had.
It’s like he was eighteen again. Alone. Aged out of a foster system that had never wanted him anyway.
He heard movement in the kitchen through the screen door. Cupboards opening, a pan rattling. Had Logan decided to cook or something? Good luck finding food, Walker.
His phone suddenly blared to life from his pocket. Didn’t have to look at it to know who was calling. He slid it out and lifted it to his ear. “This is Colton.”
“Wow, you answered. Color me shocked.”
“What is it, Ian?” He glanced into the apartment, saw Logan pulling a carton from the fridge. Huh, I have eggs?
“Okay, fine. Skipping the small talk. Got a simple question for you: You going to pull yourself together or not? Because I don’t have time to waste, Greene. I’ve been busting my butt trying to line up appearances, sponsorships—anything to keep the last of your career alive. But if you’re going to continue ignoring my calls while partying at night, let me know now so I can stop putting my rep on the line for you.”
Colton turned back to the balcony railing, the fog in his head finally starting to clear—probably from the coffee and the late-afternoon sunshine.
The flint in Ian’s tone.
“Ian—”
“I heard about last night. And the night before. And the night before that. If you want even a hope of
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley