He nodded wearily. “He’s going to kick me out of the fraternity.”

“You used him.”

Bryce paused and lifted his head. His eyes rested on me, and I felt like he was hearing something in my voice, seeing something through my wall I didn’t realize was coming out. I flushed, but then hardened my jaw. I didn’t care at that moment. All I cared about was Corrigan.

I added, “You used him, and you betrayed his trust. You abused your friendship, your brotherhood. You should be thankful that’s all that’s happening to you.”

We left him there with the instructions to leave the warehouse and lock it behind him. He was instructed to sit and wait. Bryce called a cab for him as we left the parking lot. After he hung up, he glanced at Corrigan. “He’s got some major injuries. You don’t think he’ll say anything?”

Corrigan’s eyes were narrowed. “No, I don’t think he’ll say a word, not if he’s smart, not if he wants something worse done to him.”

Bryce met my gaze in the reflective mirror. Corrigan had been outside when I said those words. The fact they were almost the same, word for word, wasn’t lost on me. Like I realized, Corrigan and I were alike.

We understood each other.

I turned away and felt a slice of pain through my chest. Something else had happened in that warehouse. I had realized how Bryce and I were not alike anymore, and the distance between us felt like an ocean now.

It was almost too wide to overcome.

“Okay,” Bryce announced, turning the car to the right on the highway.

Denton’s house was to the left.

Before we could ask where we were going, Bryce held a hand up. “Ritt was a dead end, but we need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Celebrate what?

He said to me, “Ritt’s not your stalker. That’s one celebration, and the other is that you’re no longer a suspect. We should’ve celebrated last week, but we didn’t. We’re doing it now. I don’t care what happens. We’re drinking. We’re laughing. We’re taking a fucking break from this world right now.”

There was a moment of silence, then I said, “Thank god. I need a break.”

Corrigan grinned, and some of my tension eased at that.

Bryce was a genius, although this time away presented some problems of its own. Like the fact that it was only Bryce, Corrigan, and me. I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling somersaults.

The love triangle just got real.

*

Bryce took us to a biker dive bar on the edge of the city. A line of motorcycles littered the front of it, and when we got inside, it was mostly bikers.

Corrigan said it perfectly, “Well. Being recognized isn’t a worry I have for us here.”

Bryce laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on.” He wound his way through the room to a table in the back section. When we went past the pool tables, I saw there were others there. They weren’t wearing the leather jackets like the rest of the bikers and were wearing jeans and sweatshirts like us. Sliding onto my chair, I could only stare at those people.

“What’s up?” Corrigan noticed my reaction.

“I’m not a biker.” I gestured around the bar. “I should be worried being in a place like this, but I’m not.” I paused, wondering if that was true. “Yep. Nothing. I don’t feel a thing. We have the best weapon in the world.”

Both Bryce and Corrigan were grinning. They knew what I was going to say.

I said it anyway. “The media. One call and thirty news stations will swarm this place. Nothing’s scarier than a camera light in your face and a nosy reporter sticking her mic where it’s not welcomed.”

“Hey, folks.” A waitress came over. She was tiny, her blond hair pulled into two side braids, and she was a burst of fresh air. Her face was heavily made up with blue eye shadow, black lipstick, and glitter on her cheeks. She wore a black tank top with the cleavage area ripped to show more boobage. Her eyes caught and held on Bryce.

I waited for the recognition, then a look of horror would come to me.

Nothing happened. She gave him a slow seductive smile instead.

Corrigan started laughing.

I was grinning, too.

“Shut up, you guys.” Bryce ducked his head down, but he was grinning, too.

“Oh-kay.” The waitress glanced around the table. “Can I get you three a drink?”

Corrigan slammed down a fifty-dollar bill. “Bring as many pitchers of beer that will pay for.”

“All right, indeedy.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “And keep ten of it for a tip.”

She winked at him, her voice growing warmer. “I can see who my favorite customers are going to be tonight.” Tucking the money between her fingers, she winked back at him. “Be back soon, freshlings.”

When she was gone, I smirked. “Freshlings?”

“Watch it. That’s the best come-on line I’ve heard in a while.”

Bryce shook his head, listening to my exchange with Corrigan. He groaned. “You guys, no matter what happens, I love you guys.”

I sighed. “Well, there went the light-heartedness.”

“Yeah.” Corrigan glared at Bryce, but there was no heat to it. “Thanks for bringing us back to the depths of hell.”

Bryce rolled his eyes. “I love you, guys. I wanted to state it. No matter what happens.” His gaze lingered on me. I felt a different message hidden there, something he meant only for me to understand. But I didn’t. I didn’t even want to try to dissect it. It was then when the waitress came back with two pitchers and three cups.

She never asked for our ID, and before she left, she said, “I’ve got three more pitchers coming for you guys.”

“Five pitchers?”

She smiled sweetly at Bryce. “It would’ve been six, but your boy gave me the extra for a tip. Lucky for you guys, or maybe not so lucky, it’s happy hour in here.”

Well. In that case. I slapped down another fifty. “Bring us the entire appetizer list.”

“Will do.” She seemed to reassess us. “Are you guys celebrating something? You didn’t just get out of prison, did you?” She glanced around. “Not that would be a problem. Most these guys have spent time inside. You know what? Forget I asked. I’ll be back in a few with that food, sweetums.”