“I don’t have any friends, or what you could call an actual life.” I answer more sharply than I intend because I’m still rattled by all the terrible memories that talking about Nina and Capo have evoked.
But Ryan softens all my sharp edges when he says, “You have friends, Angel. They’re right here in this room.”
My throat tightens. The hot prick of tears threatens at the back of my eyes.
Connor drawls, “And as for a life, it sounds like you and lover boy here got all sorts of plans for that already. Paris, Morocco, oysters…” His grin is huge. “He’s not ever gonna want to come back to work.”
“That’s right,” says Ryan, staring hard at me. “Gonna need some paid sick leave, ’cause I’ll be too chapped and dehydrated to work for a few months.”
Tabby wrinkles her nose. “Yuck. Just got a gnar
