Third person POV
The sound of rain had always made it easier to think.
It was coming down steadily outside, drumming against the wide windows of the Silver Fang packhouse. It felt like it had been raining steadily all fall. The gray light softened the room, making everything feel quieter.
Lance stood in the doorway, soaked through and restless, his usual cocky charm dimmed beneath a flicker of uncertainty.
“I need to talk to you,” he said. No preamble. No attempt at his usual grin. He just walked in like he always did.
Nolan set aside the file he’d been pretending to read. “You came through the storm for that?”
Lance’s lips twitched. “Didn’t feel like waiting for an invitation.”
“Fair enough,” Nolan said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s on your mind?”
Lance hesitated, which in
