“Grab a seat,” I say, motioning toward one of the many available chairs lining the room.
He sits with a huff. “Been a long day.”
Why do these people think I want to talk?
But out of all the people in the universe to talk to, Hollis is the least irritating right now.
I fall back in my chair. “I feel that.”
He runs a hand through his floppy hair. “Sometimes I feel like my life is changing so fast that I can’t keep up with it.”
“Riss?”
He shrugs. “She goes a hundred miles an hour whichever direction she’s going. I have to sprint to catch up.”
This reminds me of earlier today and speeding down the exit ramp. I try not to smile.
“And then this whole family of yours …” He blows out a breath. “It’s a little intense going from no family to all of you.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, it’s a little intense being born into this family too.”
He grins. “I heard I’m going to be a godfather.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“It is. I think.” He scratches his jaw. “I know Coy, and I have gotten close with our music stuff, but I never dreamed that he’d ask me to be the godparent to his kid.”
“He likes you,” I say. “You’re a good man. I’m sure he feels honored that you accepted.”
Hollis’s hand falls slowly to his lap. “Thanks, Wade. That means a lot.”
“Sure.”
We sit with a clumsiness between us. I don’t know how to make it less awkward. Typically, I’d just excuse myself and leave, but I don’t want to do that to Hollis. Because apparently I fucking care.
I need sleep.
“I thought Coy would pick you,” he says, a laugh in his voice.
“Me?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you?”
“I thought I was the last person Coy would choose.”
I shift in my seat, wondering how well Hollis actually knows us after all. Coy is the wild one, the party boy—or he was. I’ve always been the studious, intellectual of the Mason men. No way in the world would Coy have picked me, and that’s fine by me. Just a problem I don’t have to deal with.
“Really?” Hollis looks surprised. “Coy talks about you like you’re some kind of genius saint who can fix and do anything. Why would he not pick you?”
Wow.
“I am a genius, and I can fix and do just about anything,” I deadpan. “But I suspected it would be Boone—no offense.”
“Of course not.”
The air around us grows heavy, and I can’t ignore the topic that I’d like nothing more than to avoid. I don’t know what to say to Hollis about Harlee. How do you succinctly share with someone that you’re sorry they just got the worst news of their life? Hell, Hollis might even want to have it brought up.
But when I look up and see him sitting there with his head down, I know what I have to do. Shit.
“I, um, just wanted to say that I heard about your sister. I’m sorry, Hollis.”
His head lifts. “Me too. I know it’s not my fault—”
“Of course, it isn’t. How could it be?”
He lifts his head and frowns. “You’d be surprised at what you can talk yourself into if you’re not careful.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”
“Sadly, I didn’t know Harlee long enough in her life to know what she’d want, and that fucking sucks.”
My stomach clenches. I can’t believe I’m doing this—again. Today. But here I sit, and I don’t know what else to do.
“If Harlee was anything like you, she would be pressing on and figuring shit out,” I tell him. “You’ve done that your whole life, and look at you now.”
A slow smile slips across his face.
“She’d be happy you’re doing so well,” I say. “And I know this because I have brothers and I can imagine what I’d think if, say, Boone went missing as a child.”
Hollis chuckles. “Do I hear a little missed opportunity there?”
I shrug, making his chuckle turn into a laugh.
Spotting an opening, I get to my feet and yawn. “I’m going to head out. I had a long night and an even longer day.”
Hollis stands, extending a hand. “Thanks, Wade.”
We shake, his grip firm.
“Don’t thank me,” I say. “Just don’t knock out Boone when he gives you shit about the godfather thing when you walk in there.” I start to walk away but say over my shoulder, “But, if you do hit him, knock him out cold. You’re in a hospital. They can resuscitate him.”
Hollis’s laughter follows me out the door.
I make my way to the elevator and push the button to go down. I shove my hand in my pocket while I wait.
Something in the bottom of my pocket is crunchy, and I pull it out. And laugh.
In my hand is a wrapper from Dara’s car. I found it stuck in my folder as I was walking to my office. I took it out and shoved it in my pocket until I could find a trash can. I must’ve forgotten about it.