Wes’s face went completely slack, and he jerked his gaze away.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Wes said too fast.
Fuckin’ little fucker. “Tell me!”
Wes opened his mouth, then clacked his teeth closed, took a long drink of his beer, stalling like a pro. Ryder was a patient hunter, though, so he let him down his whole stupid beer.
Bubba set the burger baskets Ryder had ordered for them on the bar, but the second Wes reached for a fry, Ryder yanked the food away from him.
“What the hell?” Wes asked.
“Tell me what that look was for, or no food for you.”
“Come on, man.” Wes reached for his basket, but Ryder snatched it away and licked one of the burgers.
Ryder stuck his tongue out right above the other one and made his eyes as big as he could. “I’ll thuckin’ do ith,” he swore around his tongue.
“Lexi told Alana about what happened last week, and Alana told me.”
Ryder frowned and tossed Weston’s un-licked food to him. Four fries fell off the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and furthermore, Alana is being a terrible second best friend.”
“She’s worried about you, so that would make her an awesome second best friend. She asked me to talk to you, but I already know you’re a horrible sharer, so I just wanted you to know if you need to talk…you can talk to me, and I probably won’t make fun of you.”
“Noted, now what was that look really for? Because I know it wasn’t for that bullshit.”
“Nope, that was it.” But Wessy-poo wouldn’t meet his eyes, and now the Novak Raven was very busy stuffing his face with his burger.
Ryder didn’t buy it, but whatever. He had beers to drink and onion rings to devour and pussy to lick, because he was gonna get Lexi’s tasty little morsel tonight. His dick thumped against the seam of his jeans just thinking about her writhing under his mouth, gripping his hair, pulling him closer, begging shamelessly, screaming his name. His mate was a noisy little critter.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Wes asked through a grossed-out grimace.
Ryder took a giant bite of burger and nodded to the dark-headed loner at the end of the bar. With a gulp, Ryder jerked his head in invitation and said, “Kane, come be social.”
“Hard pass.” The Blackwing Dragon hadn’t even taken his eyes off the soccer game on the television screen behind the bar when he answered.
Ryder groaned. “Kaaaane. Just fucking do it so I don’t have to move all my stuff down there.”
Kane slammed the rest of his drink and twitched his head at Bubba, ordering another. With a muttered curse that started with “M” and ended with “other fucker,” Kane plopped down onto the stool beside Ryder and jacked up his black eyebrows behind his sunglasses. “Happy?”
“Yes, thank you for asking. I’m now getting laid once a night—”
“I don’t care.”
“—and our business is taking off—”
“Still don’t care.”
“—and yesterday, I convinced my mate to wear a thong for a whole hour—”
“Don’t caaaare.”
“—and now I’ve got a Blackwing Dragon as my fourth best friend.”
Kane looked sad and defeated. God, Ryder loved annoying people. Beside him, Wes snickered and shook his head.
“S’cuse me, Ryder Anderson?” a man asked from behind them.
Ryder glanced over his shoulder at a grizzly-looking older man with a long, scruffy beard and silver, greasy hair. His skin was leathered, his wrinkles deep, but there was a hardness in his dark eyes that had Ryder’s hackles on the rise.
Wes murmured, “His last name’s Croy, and he’s eating, man. He can sign autographs after we’re done.” His tone sounded as troubled as Ryder felt.
Ryder forced himself to turn his back on the predator. He didn’t smell like a shifter. Wes and Kane were still staring at the man behind him and would keep his exposed side safe enough, but fuck, he wanted away from this guy.
“You know me.”
“I assure you I don’t.”
“You don’t recognize me, son?”
Ryder’s heart dropped to the toes of his boots. Robbie Anderson. He blinked slowly and stared at the liquor case behind the bar, wishing he could smash one of them across the asshole’s cheekbone.
Ryder offered the old man his profile, then glared at him over his shoulder. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You ignored my messages.”
“I think you should leave,” Wes said coolly. The air reeked of dominance and anger now. Wes had seen all the bad years. He’d witnessed the aftermath of Robbie’s destruction.
“Two minutes of your time is all I’m beggin’.” There was still a hardness that didn’t match his pleading words, and all Ryder wanted to do was escape. He wanted to tuck Lexi under his wing and move away, break his bond to the Bloodrunners, hide for the rest of his life in a hole deep enough that Robbie would never find him again.
“Two minutes, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
Ryder turned slowly on the barstool. As he locked gazes with the man, the slight familiarity was there. It was in the eyes. They hadn’t softened in all these years. “I want your word on that. I mean, your word’s pretty fuckin’ flimsy, but I want it anyway.”