“Oh, fuck this,” Shane complains. “No way in a million years would you react that way.” I mull it over. “I might if I wanted to sleep with him.” “Mine made you laugh.” “It did,” I relent, “but if we’re both there for sex”—I nod toward Beckett—“I think he’s my man.” He beams at me. “I knew I liked you, Graham.” “Am I interrupting?” I suddenly notice Ryder in the doorway.
