Call me if you have a minute.
Tristan sat up against the bed’s massive headboard. He’d paid three-thousand dollars for this superb bed he was lying in, but what was the point? He hadn’t shared his bed with anyone in months. He never imagined that cutting free from the party circuit would leave him so alone. His so-called friends had abandoned him. Only Markus kept calling, but his messages were all one and the same. Markus didn’t need his friendship, he only needed an accomplice—someone to take the fall with him.
As Tristan dialed Bernie and Rachel’s home number, Rain’s beautiful green eyes flashed through Tristan’s mind. The conversation they’d had out on the porch had been so quiet and easy—he couldn’t remember ever feeling that comfortable with another man he hadn’t slept with first. That was a change.
Bernie answered on the first ring. “Hope my text didn’t wake you,” she said, right off.