"Is that so?" I eye him suspiciously with a measured lift of my brows.
He turns to the left when the sound of my phone ringing cuts through the air. I stare at the chiseled lines of his jaw and the shadow of whiskers that have settled there. He's incredible to look at. I can't deny that.
It's not a crime to think your best guy friend is insanely gorgeous.
"You're not on call, are you?" His brow perks as he turns back to look at me. "You don't drink when you're on call."
I don't. I can't. It's part of the employment contract I signed when I took the job with Dr. Hunt at his clinic. I'm on call every second weekend and at least one night during the week. "No. It's not work. I have no idea who it could be."
"Let's find out." He pushes against the counter and jogs across the room to where I dropped my purse on the table in the foyer. He scoops it up and delivers it to me. "Answer, Ad. People don't call after midnight unless it's serious."
He's right. Ellie's in bed by ten most nights because her kids are up at the crack of dawn. Brynn's schedule has changed too now that's she engaged and pregnant. Getting a call after midnight that isn't work-related is a rarity for me. When it does happen, it's almost always a booty call. I stopped answering those when I realized that I valued sleep more than the shitty feelings I was left with after a quick fuck with a man who didn't even bother to offer to pay my cab fare back home.
I dig my phone out of my clutch and glance down at the screen before I answer. "Hey, Syd. What's up?"
I'm greeted with a sob, then another. "Adley, I need you."
"What's wrong?" I ask calmly because since Sydney moved in, I've become accustomed to her fragile heart and the consequences of that. She feels things deeply, loves fiercely and from what she told me about this latest guy, he's something special.
"I fought with Banner," she whimpers softly. "I need you to come home. Please, Ad. Come home."
I close my eyes. "Try to calm down. I'll leave right away. It won't take me more than twenty minutes to get there."
She whispers something inaudible before she ends the call.
"What's going on?" Crew's voice is even and gentle. "Has something happened to her?"
I tap my fingers lightly over the center of my chest. "I'd diagnose it as a broken heart. Treatment consists of time with her roommate, followed by a night with a new man."
"Is that how you mend your own heart?"
It's a loaded question and one I don't have the time, or inclination, to answer. "Maybe I've never had a broken heart."
He surveys my expression, but he'll find nothing of substance there. I've learned how to hide my emotions, not only from the people around me but myself too. "I'll take you home. We can grab a taxi."
I appreciate the offer. I've always relied on myself to get around the city. I know it like the back of my hand and I have no problem telling a taxi or Uber driver which route to take. I did it earlier when we left Crew's office to come here. The driver of the taxi
Crew flagged down was going to go around Central Park. I told him to drive through it. It cut ten minutes off our travel time. "You don't have to come with me. I'll get an Uber."
"I'm coming," he insists as he moves to pick up the suit jacket I was wearing earlier. "Wear this in the car. I'll walk you to your door and then I'll head back to the club for lock up."
I round the counter and let him drape the oversized garment around my shoulders. I want to ask him if he has a list of must-haves for a future wife but it hardly matters at this point. I'll nurse Sydney's bruised heart and he'll go to the club. He'll pick up a beautiful brunette there to bring back here or he'll respond to the text of the woman who is naked and waiting for him.
"You're such a gentleman," I say with a tilt of my head. "Do you treat all the women in your life this well?"
He reaches to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch is soft as his fingertips linger on my cheek. "Only the ones who spill ketchup on my thousand dollar suit jacket."
"Oh shit." I swallow as I look down at the tailored black jacket. "I'll pay for dry cleaning. Can it be cleaned?"
"You'll pay for nothing." He leans down to brush his lips over my forehead. "I'm keeping the jacket as is. The stain is hardly noticeable and the jacket smells like you now."
I smile as I look into his eyes.
Flirtatious teasing has always been part of the dynamic of our friendship. This feels different. Maybe it's the rush from the drinks I had earlier. It might be the look of dark intensity that's settled over his expression.
Whatever it is, I like it.
"Let's get you home." He slips effortlessly back into friendship mode with a tap on my shoulder. "Sydney needs you and I need another scotch before I call it a night."