THIRTY SEVEN - RYDER

Ryder Mina texted me while I was at happy hour. The courier arrived with a package. A contract? Sent Lexie to your place with it. It'll be on your desk. Lyndon noticed my face shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" “Nothing.” I shoved my phone back into my pocket and grabbed my beer, trying to focus on Michael’s story. But the thought of Lexie being in my place, moving around my space, made it impossible to concentrate. I had to force my muscles to stay put, fighting the instinct to rush home and face her. That would be reckless—dangerous, even. I drained the rest of my beer. Or maybe, I thought, I should go home. Set her straight. Make sure she understood—under no circumstances was she ever to show up at my place again. Even if God himself told her to deliver something, she’d better leave it with the damn concierge. Then it hit me—had I closed her Instagram page on my home computer? I’d been scrolling through her profile a few nights ago. My home computer wasn’t even password protected. S