“So you’re covering for Cory while he sorts out whatever Luis wants?”
Jordan gave him a side-eye. “He should be back in a few minutes.”
“He’s not in any trouble,” Beckett assured him, “and it’s fine that you’re helping out. In fact…” Beckett considered his words and decided to jump in. “What are you doing Saturday?”
“Sorry! Sorry, Beck. I’m here.” Cory raced in as though the devil himself were on his tail. His face was flushed from the run, his hair tousled by the wind. If it weren’t for the forced smile and the pain around his eyes, he would have looked adorable.
Beck scrutinized him for a long moment. “You all right?”
“Sure,” he lied brightly. Then his eyes widened a fraction, and Beck knew he didn’t want to be pushed. Beck squinted to convey he wasn’t going to let it go completely. Cory must have understood because he changed the subject.