Page 96 of Come Break My Heart Again

Tucker grins widely. “Bingo, buddy.”

I experience a swell of affection toward Tucker Franklin. As far as I can tell, he’s the one person who’s always been there for Ryder. Who Ryder has alwaysallowedto be there for him.

“Ryder James. Why does your name sound so familiar?” Prescott muses.

The vodka in my stomach hardens to ice. “I think I see a table opening up,” I blurt. “We should go?—”

“I just got released from Leavenworth,” Ryder says quietly. “It was in the papers.”

Prescott snaps his fingers, nodding enthusiastically. “Right! That’s it. It must have been in theGlobe.” The satisfaction of solving his little mystery fades slowly, somberness replacing triumph. “How, uh, how long were you in for?”

“Seven years.”

“Wow. I—wow. Must be nice to be out.”

I’m certain Prescott has never met anyone who’s served time in prison before. His childhood was as sheltered and privilegedas mine. The closest he’s gotten to criminal law is taking classes on it. It’s obvious he has no idea what to say to Ryder.

Maybe I’m being too harsh. Most people would have a difficult time navigating this conversation.

“At least friends can’t spring happy hours on you in the inside,” I say, attempting to lighten the uncomfortable moment.

“Oh, Ry picked this place,” Tucker says quickly, nudging Ryder with his elbow. “Soon as we packed up for the day, he was begging to go somewhere fancy.”

Ryder rolls his eyes. “I need a beer.”

“Wait till he sees the prices here.” Tucker grins, then follows Ryder toward an opening halfway down the bar top.

“I didn’t think Tuck would want to drive into the city after work,” Keira tells me quietly. “He finished early, wanted to surprise me.”

I hear the subtext loud and clear. She didn’t know Ryder would be here.

“You got a good one,” I reply, smiling so she knows I’m not upset with her.

I’m so happy for Keira. But, God, my life would be a lot simpler if she were marrying anyone else.

Keira’s gaze follows Tucker, her expression softening. Her smile turns dreamy. “I know.”

“How did you and Tucker meet?” Prescott asks.

Keira glances at me before answering. “We, uh, went to school together. We both grew up in Fernwood. Just … found each other, I guess.”

“Table, guys! Table!”

We all look at Juliet, who’s pointing toward an open booth in the back.

I grab my drink and follow Prescott over to the table. Keira pauses to tell Tuck where we’re headed.

None of my dread dissipates as I slide across the cool leather of the booth, next to Juliet. Gavin’s arm is draped casually over her shoulders as he types something on his phone. I find his lack of attention annoying, but Juliet doesn’t seem to care. And I’m just as senselessly irritated by Prescott’s polite conversation with one of the waiters as he orders another cognac.

“Want anything, babe?” he asks me.

My nails dig into my palm before I answer, “Sure. Another martini, please.”

Our second round of drinks arrives at the same time as Keira, Tucker, and Ryder.

Keira ends up sitting on the other side of Prescott, their polite conversation easily audible as I sip on my martini. She’s asking if he’s from Boston originally.

“No, I’m a West Coast guy,” Pres replies. “My dad works in tech. I grew up in San Francisco.”

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