“Ten hours of community service and s*x addiction rehab?” I asked conversationally. Someone needed to keep his ego from overtaking the continent. I was doing the whole nation a service.
“Oh shit.” Rhyland slapped the back of his neck. “Artem Litvin passed away. You went to his funeral today, right?”
Better get it over with. Rhy was going to find out sooner or later that Cal was in town. “He was the one teacher at school I didn’t want to set on fire.” I shrugged, bringing the bottle to my lips.
“So you saw Cal.” Rhyland’s eyebrows were floating somewhere above the atmosphere.
“Briefly,” I grunted.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Hard pass. She did enough talking for the entire decade.”
“Still adorably weird, I see.” He plastered his palms against the designer bar between us. “Well, if you wa
