“I’m Jericho. My friends call me Rich.” Shaking his hand, I returned his smile. “Brax.” “Brax?” Loren mocked, wiping the smile from my face. His back was to me, but I could hear the sneer he undoubtedly wore as he fiddled with the coffee maker. It was all he seemed to do whenever I was in the room. “Is that supposed to make you sound cool?” Sensing that he’d won my attention, he peeked over his shoulder, and the look I gave him made him snort. I decided right then and there. I hated him the most. “You can call me Braxton.”
