Page 76 of Mark & Don't Tell

Fuck. I’m fucking this up. “All right,” I concede. “I wasn’t trying to pry, but I can see that my question was invasive. Do you guys have any travel plans?”

He takes a bite and chews, jaw working as he stares at me.

My stomach clenches at the anger that’s slowly kindling in his gaze. I hate that he is so mad. I hate that I’m responsible for it. “We were discussing maybe going to Paris in the spring. It’s supposed to be lovely.”

Ryan doesn’t react, so I keep rambling on, occasionally taking bites and hoping I haven’t ruined everything. By the time we finish our sandwiches, the angry look is gone, but he’s still quiet, wary almost.

“Help me out here, Ryan,” I plead. “I want us to be able to talk to each other. I shouldn’t have asked what I did, but can we talk about other things?”

“Why’d you pick Vic over Mom?” His expression is hard to read, but the question isn’t.

To him, we betrayed her, when really, it was she who betrayed us. Mating to a pack means just that. It’s not a pick-and-choose situation.

Swallowing, I look away. “Is that really the conversation you want to have right now?”

We’ve talked about it some before. With him having his own pack, I thought for sure he’d understand.

“No, you know what, forget that question. Can I tell you about what me and the pack have been working on?” He leans forward, clearly excited.

I exhale and nod. “Of course. I’d love to hear about that.”

Ryan starts explaining some deal they’re putting together and how hard they’ve been working to find investors and how well they’ve been doing. His features are so alive, so animated, I can’t help but smile as he recounts how they snagged the last investor.

“Wow,” I say when he pauses for a drink. “I’m really proud of you guys.”

“Well, don’t be proud yet. We haven’t got full funding yet.” He gives me a pointed look.

“It sounds like you’re close,” I tell him with a grin. “So, who’s the next target?”

A beat of silence passes between us. Ryan arches an eyebrow. Wrinkling my forehead, I try to ignore the warning signs. Like the dark glint in his gaze. The way his lips twitch at the edges, almost like he’s ready to laugh at me. The way his muscles tense, preparing for a fight—or a difficult sales pitch.

No. That can’t be why he’s here. He told me on Monday he wanted to work on our relationship, and our lunch has been...like walking on eggshells.

Ryan tilts his head. “You’re going to make me ask?”

“Ask what?” Don’t say it. Don’t use me. Don’t break my heart again, kid.

Sighing, he leans back in his chair. “I need you to invest.”

“Need?”

He nods. “We’re so close. We need another five hundred grand to fully fund.”

“Five hundred thousand dollars?” Despite my racing heart, I try to keep my voice level. “Ryan, what are you asking me for here?”

“I just told you I need you to invest.”

Told me. Is that all he sees when he looks at me? A purse to take from?

“Son, a half-million is a lot of money.”

He shrugs. “You said the company was doing great.” Glancing around, he takes in the executive lunchroom, which has sturdy but stylish furniture. It’s not like we splurged and lined everything with gold. “It’s really not that much.”

Five hundred thousand dollars isn’t that much? That’ll put a hefty dent in our expansion plans. Even if we could afford it, I don’t know if I want to give him the money. He didn’t even bother warming me up before demanding the money. He simply “needs” it.

“I can’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “The business is expanding?—”

“Which means more revenue,” he cuts in.

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